In Winter Quarters 



cieties in Massachusetts towns. They 

 have done a wonderful work. Bronze 

 tablets everywhere abound. In fact, 

 they sometimes supply so many de- 

 tails after the fashion of the old 

 churchyard epitaphs that at Concord 

 I fully expected every time I turned 

 around to find the spot well marked 

 where Ebenezer Dow once sat or 

 Prudence Prentice knitted. Just where 

 Major Buttrick ate his breakfast the 

 morning of the fight the tourist may 

 never know. I was much more inter- 

 ested in the condition of the pine trees 

 at the old Manse, and that big chest- 

 nut now flourishing in Emerson's front 

 yard. 



French's "Minute Man" will of 

 course forever stand as the type of the 

 stiff-necked generation that lived in 

 the old town dozing there in the New 

 England hills in April, 1776, under the 

 peace-abiding name of Concord. If 

 there has ever been any ruction in 

 which the Concordians did not loyally 

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