Free Becoming Americans by Donald Batchelor

not hickory or ash, like they should have been. The hogsheads—and your beautiful tobacco—would have been destroyed before they left the Chesapeake!"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "Your impudence will only warrant additional punishment!" Anger had returned to Harper's voice.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "But, Sir, I could not have busted the hoops had they been…."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "If you had suspicions you could have told Old Ned, or spoken to your master, here." Mr. Ware sounded less angry than curious.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "There was no one here, and I…" Richard began.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "And you were drunk, again, with our host's rum?" Harper's anger had returned in force. "You were angered by me sending you from the churchyard, and this was an opportunity for mischief! Don't try deceiving us, Boy! Mister Ware would not have slack coopers!" Harper stepped forward and boxed Richard's ears.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Richard did not protest. He waited silently as the ringing in his ears subsided.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "How do you know to say this about my casks, Boy?" Mister Ware asked calmly.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "Most of my days, before coming to Virginia, were spent with my friend who is apprenticed to a cooper. I couldn't help but learn some basic things. And when my sleeve caught on a hoop, and I looked closer at the hogsheads, it was obvious that they wouldn't hold. I was amazed that on such a grand plantation as yours, Sir, that such workmanship would be allowed." Mr. Ware needed to know that his was the real responsibility for the shoddy casks. It was Ware's tobacco in Ware's hogsheads!
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Harper boxed his ears again.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "How dare you criticize our host!"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "Enough for this evening, Harper," Mr. Ware said. "We will pursue the matter in the morning light."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â "Return to your quarters," Harper said.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Richard stumbled back to his dark cabin and sat on the bed. He replaced his suit in the chest, then went to the corner and felt for Old Ned's jug of rum. It was gone, no doubt, to the fireside revelry; being passed around.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â A fusillade of muskets and other firing guns exploded, frightening away the evil spirits that the Devil loosed on this night. Richard feared for the morrow.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â He undressed and knelt by the bed. His prayers were long and earnest. When he'd finished, he felt for his rabbit's foot and climbed into the bed.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â A crowing rooster brought him back. Old Ned was snoring, but the third bed was empty. The morning had arrived so quickly!
    Â Â Â Â Â Â What would he do? How could be he prepared? He must make a plan.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Penitent and innocent. Both. Penitent and innocent. That's what he'd show them. And that's how he felt. He'd apologize for not reporting the stretched and splitting hoops instead of breaking them. He'd apologize for getting drunk. And he'd tell Francis Harper about the suit; that it was Uncle Edward's parting gift. He'd admit to vanity—he'd admit to that—but he'd not intended to embarrass Harper. He'd look humble, wearing his work breeches. He'd….
    Â Â      His clothes weren't on the floor where he dropped them when he'd undressed. He looked about the dimly lighted room and knew that they were missing. He scampered to the chest and opened it to find only his fine blue suit and linen shirt.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Someone had stolen or hidden his clothes. A trick, to make him wear the new suit again today. To force him into renewed embarrassment and shame at a time when humility was called for. It would look like defiance!
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Old Ned turned in his bed. A rooster lets no one sleep. Old Ned muttered and coughed the cough of one who'd concentrated on pipe and tankard for most of two days and