“Now I don’t see what more they can have except the death-bed, and that would be rather out of place in this gay company,” said the old gentleman to Mr. Burton, as he mopped his heated face after pounding so heartily he nearly knocked the ferule off his cane.

“No; they gave that up, for my boy wouldn’t wear a night-gown in public.  I can’t tell secrets, but I think they have got a very clever little finale for the first part—­a pretty compliment to one person and a pleasant surprise to all,” answered Mr. Burton, who was in great spirits, being fond of theatricals and very justly proud of his children, for the little girls had been among the Trenton maids, and the mimic General had kissed his own small sister, Nelly, very tenderly.

A great deal of interest was felt as to what this surprise was to be, and a general “Oh!” greeted the “Minute Man,” standing motionless upon his pedestal.  It was Frank, and Ralph had done his best to have the figure as perfect as possible, for the maker of the original had been a good friend to him; and, while the young sculptor was dancing gayly at the ball, this copy of his work was doing him honor among the children.  Frank looked it very well, for his firm-set mouth was full of resolution, his eyes shone keen and courageous under the three-cornered hat, and the muscles stood out upon the bare arm that clutched the old gun.  Even the buttons on the gaiters seemed to flash defiance, as the sturdy legs took the first step from the furrow toward the bridge where the young farmer became a hero when he “fired the shot heard ’round the world.”

“That is splendid!” “As like to the original as flesh can be to bronze.”  “How still he stands!” “He’ll fight when the time comes, and die hard, won’t he?” “Hush!  You make the statue blush!” These very audible remarks certainly did, for the color rose visibly as the modest lad heard himself praised, though he saw but one face in all the crowd, his mother’s, far back, but full of love and pride, as she looked up at her young minute man waiting for the battle which often calls us when we least expect it, and for which she had done her best to make him ready.

If there had been any danger of Frank being puffed up by the success of his statue, it was counteracted by irrepressible Grif, who, just at the most interesting moment, when all were gazing silently, gave a whistle, followed by a “Choo, choo, choo!” and “All aboard!” so naturally that no one could mistake the joke, especially as another laughing voice added, “Now, then, No. 11!” which brought down the house and the curtain too.