The people around, as they looked on, were so still that the noise of breaking open the tea chests was plainly heard. All things," said John Adams,

who became afterward the second President of the United States," all things were conducted with great order, decency, and perfect submission to government." After the work was done, the town became as still and calm as if it had been a holy day of rest. The men from the country that very night carried back the great news to their villages.

This was one of the first acts which led to the war with England that gave this country its independence. Only a little more than a year afterward, the first battle was fought at Lexington, not far from Boston; and in less than ten years the colonies had become free and independent states.

clear'ance, permission to sail.

Par'lia ment, the body of law-makers

in England.

rev'e nue officer, one who collects

taxes or revenue.

HARK, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chaliced flowers that lies;

And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes;
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise:

Arise, arise.

SHAKESPEARE.

A MERRY TALE OF THE KING AND THE COBBLER

CHAPTER I

Of King Henry the Eighth's method of visiting the City Watch; and of his becoming acquainted with a merry Cobbler.

It was the custom of King Henry the Eighth to walk late in the night into the city of London, disguised, to observe how the constables and watch performed their duty; not only in guarding the city gates, but also in diligently watching the inner part of the city, that they might prevent those damages and casualties that often happen to great and populous cities in the night time. This he did oftentimes, without its being discovered who he was; returning home to Whitehall early in the morning.

Now, in returning home through the Strand, he took notice of a certain cobbler, who was always up at work, whistling and singing, every morning. So resolving to see him, he knocked off the heel of his shoe, by hitting it against the stones. Having so done, he bounced against the stall.

"Who is there?" cried the cobbler, opening his stall door. Whereupon the King asked him if he could fit on his heel. "Yes, that I can," said the cobbler; "so sit thee down, and I will do it straight."

The cobbler laid his awls and old shoes aside, to make room for the King to sit by him, who was hardly able to forbear laughing at the Cobbler's kindness; and asked him if there was not an inn near, where he could rest until his shoe was mended. Yes," said the cobbler, "there is an inn over the way, where I think the folks are up, for the carriers go from them early every morning." With that the King borrowed an old shoe of the cobbler, and went over to the inn, desiring him to bring his shoe over thither, when he had done it. The cobbler promised him that he would.

So making as much haste as he could, he carried it over to the King, saying, "Honest blade, here is thy shoe again: I'll warrant thee, the heel will not come off again in haste.” Very well," said the King, "what must you have for your pains?" "A couple of pence," said the cobbler. "Well," said the King, "as thou art an honest, merry fellow, here is a tester for you; come, sit down by me and let us talk together."

So the cobbler sat down by the King, and was very merry. He sang some of his pretty songs and catches, at which the King laughed heartily, and was very pleasant and jocund with the cobbler, telling him withal, that his name was Harry Tudor, and that he belonged to the court; and if he would come and see him there, he would make him very welcome, because he was such a merry companion;

and charged him to come, and not forget his name: and to ask any one for him about the court, and they would bring him to him. For," said the King, “I am well known there."

Now, the cobbler little dreamed that it was the King that spoke to him, much less, that the King's name was Harry Tudor. Then, with a great deal of confidence, he stood up, and pulled off his hat, and made the King many thanks; telling him that he was one of the honestest fellows he had ever met with in all his lifetime; and though he had never been at court, yet it should not be long before he would make a holiday to come and see him.

Whereupon the King, discharging the reckoning, would have taken leave of the cobbler. But he, taking him by the hand, said, "By my faith! you shall not go yet, you shall first go and see my poor habitation. I have there a good loaf and cheese, and you must needs go and taste it; for thou art the honestest blade I ever met with: and I love an

honest, merry companion, with all my heart."

CHAPTER II

The Cobbler entertains the King in the Cellar; and of the disturbance made by the Cobbler's wife.

So the cobbler took the King with him, over the way, where he had a cellar, joining to his stall, which was handsomely furnished for a man of his profes

"There,'

sion. Into this cellar he had the King. said he, “sit you down; you are welcome. But I must desire you to speak softly, for fear of waking my wife Joan, who lies hard by;" showing the King a close bed, neatly made up in one corner of the cellar, much like a closet; "for if she awake, she will certainly make both our ears ring again."

At this speech of the cobbler, the King laughed, and told him he would be mindful to follow his directions. So the cobbler kindled a fire, and fetched out a brown loaf, from which he cut a lusty slice, and set it baking by the fire; then he brought out his Cheshire cheese.

"Come," said he, "will you eat my cheese? there is good fellowship in eating." This made the King admire the freedom of the cobbler. So having eaten a piece, “Here's a health to all true hearts and merry companions," said the cobbler. At which the King, smiling, said, "Old friend, I'll pledge thee."

In this manner they ate and drank together, until almost break of day, the cobbler pleasing the King with several of his old stories. When, on a sudden, the cobbler's wife, Joan, began to awake. "In faith," says the cobbler, "you must be gone now; my wife Joan begins to grumble, she will wake presently; and I would not, for all the shoes in my shop, she should find you here."

So taking the King upstairs, he said, "Farewell,