THE CAMP-FIRE ON DORCHESTER HEIGHTS.

     A season of gloom and anxiety, harassing as that which preceded the action on Bunker Hill, had set in upon that army of patriots which during ten months had prosecuted the siege of Boston. A movement was made silently, and by night, toward Dorchester Heights; in the bright moonlight of a still March evening, the chosen hand, under General Thomas, selected the ground, broke the frozen earth, and began the erection of breastworks. No words were spoken, save those of command, and they crept along the lines in whispers; none thought of rest, or complained of fatigue; but animated by the desire of liberty, by the remembrance of bunker Hill and Concord, and by the thoughts of those who had been left at the fireside, lonely and defenceless, they toiled with an alacrity and success which astonished themselves.

     Far different was the scene on the plains. There, throughout the night the whole park of artillery, superintended by Washington in person, played upon the city of Boston, illuminating the sky with arches of fire, and dimming the pale light of the moon. Strange and bewildering was the spectacle to many of the colonists; for even after an actual warfare of many months, they could not comprehend how brethren of the same race could embrace their hands in each other's blood. Yet the object of Washington was less to annoy the enemy, than to conceal the operations at Dorchester Heights. He succeeded; and on the following day, the British troops beheld with admiration and astonishment, a series of breastworks, which , looming through the morning mist, seemed, in their distorted proportions, to be the work of giants.

     Yet, all this was but the prelude to a more exciting scene. Throughout that day, the forts of Boston, and the shipping in the harbour, maintained a heavy fire upon the frail works on the Heights; while General Thomas and his officers, mounted on horseback, perceived, with the aid of their glasses, closely compacted regiments marching toward the ferry. That an attack was intended, none doubted; and the heart of many a patriot throbbed with mingled emotions, as he thought on the prize which was to be staked on the following morning.

     The sun went down behind thin, misty clouds; and as the light grew fainter till it was lost in darkness the bustle and animation on each side increased. The men on the Heights; no longer fearful of discovery, worked merrily; encouraging each other by every means, until the breastwork was finished. Washington crossed over from the opposite plain, that he might superintend the expected battle in person; the sturdy yeomanry, aroused by rumors of the events of he two preceding days, poured into the camp well armed, and threatening vengeance on the foe; and amid the uproar of a cannonade by night, the brave men who had labored so assiduously, raised their tents and built their fires amid showers of earth and stones, struck from the hill by the enemy's balls.

     The men lay on their arms all night. Most of them were soon sunk in slumber; but there were a few whom excitement would not suffer to sleep. These, in small groups, sat around the blazing piles, listening to the sounds which came at irregular intervals from the city, or rehearsing stories of the last year's adventures. One of these groups, consisting of four men, might be seen seated with their backs against a huge bundle of hay, that formed part of the works, and partaking with great satisfaction of a slight repast; marking a table, of course, of their knees.

     "I hope they'll get across the Neck," remarked on, whose name was Stuart.

     "Heaven grant it!" was the answer. "If they do, they'll remember Dorchester for some years, I'm thinking. It will be a bloodier battle than Bunker Hill. Think of poor Warren, boys!"

     "He shall be revenged!" exclaimed another, named Hadley. "As for me, I don't see the use of this tiresome business they call a 'siege.' Here we've been marching, and drilling, and firing cannon, ever since---let me see---wasn't it June when old Putnam fought on Bunker Hill?"

     Stuart answered in the affirmative.

     "Well, ever since then. I know it was dreadful hot, and we'll soon have summer again; so it's been almost a year. Why won't his excellency let us march ever at once, and drive the red-coat rascals and tories out of town, as we did at Concord?"

     "Because he knows better than we do," Stuart replied.

     "Hark!" exclaimed the eldest of the four, named Green. "Was that cannon?"

     A deep crashing sound broke on the stillness which had reigned for a short time previous, and the echo rolled heavily in the distance. Then all was again silent, save that the breathing of the wearied men was heard around, and sounds which seemed strange and mysterious, came from the harbor. The party grasped their muskets, and looked one upon another, to breathless expectations.

     "It sounded like thunder," Stuart said, breaking the silence.

     "Not likely to thunder in the month of March, replied Green.

     "But let's keep quiet, boys, till we get orders; for you may depend upon it, we'll have enough to do before may days."

     "Tell us about concord, Ben," said Stuart, addressing Hadley. "I wish I had been there with you."

     "You may wish that," was the reply, as Hadley placed himself in a more erect position, preparatory to beginning upon his favorite theme.

     "It was a glorious day; and the neighbors rose in their strength, to show the murderers of our people who was going to be master. It made the blood tingle in our veins, when we came to Concord, and saw our poor countrymen lying by the roadside, and heard that ruffian Pitcairn cursing the handful of men who were flying before his bayonets!"

     "Did our men run?" enquired Barry.

     "Yes," resumed Hadley, "till the boys from Reading, Dorchester, and Roxbury, came up. Then we went right at them. We didn't wait for a commandeer; we didn't besiege them; but we beat them clean up the old road from concord to Lexington, and from Lexington to Charlestown, till every poor fellow who fell on our side was properly revenged---all because they called us rebels!"

     "It was a glorious day!" ejaculated Stuart, half-musingly.

     "But tell us how it all began, and all about it," said Barry.

     "So I will; but let us stir up the fire first, for it's getting chilly---You remember what a stir there was in Boston, when Gage arrived with 'reinforcements,' as he called them. A worse-looking set of rascals---for they are nothing else---you never saw. They squinted maliciously at the neighbors as they marched by; and some of them had got so used to that fashion, that they couldn't look straight when they tried! I was in town then; and I tell you, lads, it was hard to keep hands off of them, even though they did shoulder muskets. Some brisk lads meet, two or three days afterwards, to see if they could plan some mischief against them; but one, who had been to college and read a great many books, persuaded them out of it. I think he was half a coward, though he did know more than the rest of us.

     "Things went on bad enough for more than a year, but we didn't get to blows with the soldiers, because the time hadn't come. Our great men had determined not to strike the first blow, and not to take the second without putting one in between. By and by, the Boston men discovered that Gage had spies out, who went through all the streets, prying into everybody's business, and reporting anything that they thought would hurt one of our men, to the officers. Many a one was treated hard enough, merely because these telltales informed on him. But still we kept quiet, only trying to get one of these villains into a by-place, where tar and feathers might be had. At last, however, these fellows became such a nuisance, that some working-men in town formed a society to watch them; and you may depend upon it, they did the business close enough. Every night, even in the depth of winter, they would be out, walking the streets in all directions, mixing with the soldiers, talking to the spies, and picking up all kinds of news about the army, sometimes before it reached Gage's men themselves. No weather could keep them from their duty. These men waded through snow0storms, breasted the rain, and travelled over the glib ice when everything cracked with the cold. Once, one of them, tired, I suppose, with working hard all day, stumbled and fell into a frozen pond in the upper part of the town, which came near costing him his life.

     "There was a good deal of drilling among our boys about the same time, and we continued to store up some ammunition where Gage's men couldn't find it. The women helped us mightily in this work, knowing, as they did, so man nooks and corners where things could be stowed away in safety. By and by our men grew bolder. They stored their powder and balls at concord, not caring whether Gage knew of it or not; and some of them talked pretty strongly about kicking up a fuss, if the soldiers should be sent to take away what didn't belong to them."

     "They were sent, though," interrupted Barry.

     "Yes---but don't drive me ahead of the story.---The battle, you know, took place on Wednesday. Well, on the Saturday previous, Dr. Warren observed a great stir among the soldiers; and before night a good number of them were off duty, and pretending to drill. But this was only a sham to deceive us; for you must know, lads, that Gage was as artful and as sly as a black snake. Dr. Warren, however, watched him close enough; and about midnight what should he behold but the sailors getting the boats ready to cross over toward Concord. Then it was he felt sure that no time was to be lost; so he send Colonel Revere to tell Mr. Adams and Mr. Hancock to take care of themselves. These three talked over the matter together at Lexington; and it was agreed that when Revere went back to Boston he should make signals to let the surrounding country know if the rascally soldiers were going to attack them."

     "Signals," interrupted Stuart; "what kind of signals?"

     Scarcely was his question asked, when the same heavy sound, which had disturbed the party before again broke on the stillness of the night. Now it rolled near enough to convince them that it was thunder; and each one, on gazing around, beheld the sky overcast with pitchy clouds, and the atmosphere shrouded in thick darkness, while the wind rushed by in fitful and powerful gusts. A feeling of gloom, mingled with uneasy foreboding, stole upon the heart of even the boldest; and after a vain attempt to pierce the darkness with the eyes, the little party again drew close to their campfire, wrapped their blankets around them, and awaited the conclusion of Hadley's narrative.

     "I believe I left off at the signals," he resumed. "It was managed, boys, in this way. If the soldiers should march out by Roxbury, a light was to be hung in North Church steeple; but if they crossed in their boats to the country, thee were to be two lights.---Revere got back to Boston on Sunday; and he arranged matters with Dr. Warren, in such a manner that Gage knew nothing about it. All day o9n Monday and Tuesday, our men were busy picking up information about what the soldiers intended to do; but the busiest time was yet to come. All the town was in alarm; folks left their own houses and ran to others, whenever anybody arrived with fresh news; no one talked loud, but only whispered. Few men worked on those days; but you might see crowds at the corners, speaking low, but rolling their eyes like mad people, and clenching their hands as firm as iron. Some were afraid to speak, or to listen when others wanted to speak; and a good number, not knowing what might happen, were busily engaged in hiding their little notions where they thought the soldiers couldn't get at them.

     "After some time the fears of the people increased. An order came on Tuesday, that no one should leave Boston that night; but Warren had just send Colonel Revere and Mr. Dawes to warn the whole neighborhood; so Gage cheated after all his pains. They didn't forget to hang the lanterns in the steeple either; and it was a sight to make one hold his breath.