CHAPTER VIII. 



Ridge field to Datibiiry. — The Burning of the 

 Town in i^jj-j.— The Battle and Other Revo- 

 lutiojiary Incidents. 



The mercury stood at six degrees above 

 zero in the morning at Ridgefield. It had 

 rained on the previous day, and now the sun 

 shone as it shines here through a foliage and 

 over a landscape of glittering silver. In- 

 doors the prospect was as satisfactory as it 

 was charming without. The cheerful fire in 

 the breakfast-room, the aroma of the coffee, 

 the juicy steak, the frequent relays of buck- 

 wheat cakes that came upon the table hot 

 from the griddle, and the mug of hard cider 

 which always goes with a genuine country 

 breakfast — above all, the society of my hos- 

 pitable entertainers — were strong inducements 

 for delay. But the vis inertics of the after 

 breakfast easy-chair was at length overcome, 

 and wrapping my stirrups with straw, pulling 



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