Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 302: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

284 Tom ANDERSON, Dare-DEvIL coming home from a canter under the great arc of cocoa- nut trees, noticed a crowd in the street; and as they remarked it, Lady Amy recognized Edward Coleridge, Bishop of Barbados and the Windward Islands, rubbing elbows with “roosters,” nurse-girls, and soldiers from St. Peter’s. “There’s the Bishop! Surely, Marquis de la Jonquiére, we may go where His Lordship does?”’ suggested she. “And there’s Captain Tulloch. The Church and the Army. We shall be safe.” They turned their horses’ heads. “Pshaw!” exclaimed De la Jonquiére. “Street musi- cians.” “Come on,” retorted the girl, with a shake of the bridle. *’Pon my soul, It s the American,” said the Marquis abruptly. “Listen.” The clear, legato notes were full of compass and sweet- ness. Lady Amy gave an exclamation of delight. ‘There he is, sure enough,”’ said, the Marquis. Tom was standing on the corner of a little street cistern, and he was busy; digging out of an old banjo all the music that was left in it. For the shortcomings of an inferior in- strument his rich voice made ample amends. With such an incongruous audience, cabin-songs would be a safe lead, he had decided. And so he sung — meltingly !—the foolish old ditty: — “It’s all ’roun’ the mountain, It’s all ’roun’ the sea: Ev’y pretty girl I fly ’roun,’ She goes right back on me. “Oh, there’s many a change in the wind that blows, An’ there’s many a change in the sea; There’s many a change in them blue eyes o’ yours, But there ain’ no change in me!” Clamorous applause, and a chucking of coins, which Unaka picked up and put into a gourd. The boy sang on and on, reaping a goodly harvest of CONNIE KOOKS (E(0) m