Guns for General Washington by Seymour Reit

oxen, carried a twenty-four-pounder that the men had nicknamed the “Old Sow.” Young John was thrilled to be riding alongside his friend, and he watched with pleasure the skillful way Will handled his four pair of oxen.
    To help pass the time, William taught J. P. a lively song called “The Derby Ram,” which people said was a favorite of General Washington’s. J. P. soon learned the words, and as they rode along he and Will sang together.
    Â 
As I went down to Derby
On a market day,
I met the biggest ram, sir,
That ever was fed on hay.
 
The wool on that ram’s back, sir,
Reached up to the sky.
Eagles built their nest there,
I heard the young ones cry.
    Â 
He had four feet to walk on, sir.
He had four feet to stand.
And every one of those feet, sir,
Covered an acre of land.
 
And it’s true my lads,
It’s true my lads,
If never was given to lie.
If you’d a’ been in Derby,
You’d see the same as I!
    Â 
    By the time the caravan plodded into Westfield, everyone was in a festive mood. Once again, the whole population came out to meet them. Few of the locals had ever seen cannons before, and they marveled at the giant weapons tied on the carts. They also gave the travelers ale, cider, and all the good food they could eat.
    At the town inn, Henry and Will relaxed and joined the fun. The brothers smiled at each other happily, suddenly aware that the worst of their ordeal was over. The ale flowed freely, and numerous toasts were offered. “Here’s to Colonel Knox!” somebody shouted. “Here’s to good old General Washington!” others cried. “Here’s to the artillery train!” “Here’s to the rebel cause, ’n’ to blazes with the British!” A farmer brought out a fiddle and someone else brought out a dulcimer. They played tunes such as “The Massachusetts Hop” and “The Road to Boston,” and Will Knox, his knee all better, joined in a lively square dance called a quadrille.
    Will was bursting with pleasure and excitement. Henry was also pleased, but he tried to keep his emotions in check. “It looks right good,” he admitted to Will, “but remember—we’re not home
yet
.”
    As a climax to the festivities, Henry treated the townspeople to a demonstration. From their small supply he filled a powder horn and poured it into the breach of the Old Sow; then he put a match to the cannon’s touchhole. The gun erupted in a powerful but harmless
BOOOM!
Everyone was impressed and cheered loudly.
    â€œThank the Lord,” Will said to J. P. with a grin, “that the British are too far away to hear us!”

22
Partings
    The trip from Westfield to Springfield was a short one, but the trail was deep in mud so the pace of the convoy was slow.
    As they drew near Springfield, the happy mood of the travelers changed to one of gloom. The reason was clear to William. Many of the drivers had agreed to stay with the train as far as Springfield. At that point—with the guns safely across the mountains—they were ready to return to their farms and towns in New York State. The men missed their families and were needed at home, but they had developed ties of loyalty to the mission and found it hard to tear themselves away.
    Among those due to leave were the Beckers, who faced a long trip back to Glens Falls. They had been part of this venture day and night for over a month, and for J. P. it was painful to leave. When he said good-bye to William, he had to swallow hard to keep his voice steady. Will also felt sad, but he grinned, reached out, and ruffled J. P.’s hair. “Don’t you mind, old friend,” he said. “We’ll meet up again, I promise. We’ll have a proper visit after we send the redcoats packing.”
    At last Mr. Becker clucked to the horses and the empty wagon started off J. P. turned around and watched the group standing near the