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Two days later Major Stoddard appeared unexpectedly, to Sally’s unconcealed joy. He was looking thin and sick, and was taken care of by Mrs. Foulke, but said if he heard firing, he should go with the troops, sick or well, which Sally calls “heroic,” and at once, fearing he may flee hastily, says, “I dressed myself, silk and cotton gown. It is made without an apron. I feel quite awkwardish and prefer the girlish dresses.”

The Major improved so rapidly that on the following day he drank tea with the Wisters, and Sally and he had a little private chat, when he promised if there should be a battle to come back with a full account of it. Later in the afternoon firing was distinctly heard, and it was supposed that the opposing armies had begun an engagement. This was Howe’s famous demonstration against Washington’s position at Whitemarsh, and a general battle was expected by everyone, but nothing occurred except several severe skirmishes. However, at the sound of platoon firing, the Major ordered his horse saddled, and if the firing had not decreased, could not have been dissuaded from going, though still far from strong, and Sally shows great pride in his bravery, as she calls it.

The next day’s entry tells Debby, “Rejoice with us, my dear. The British have returned to the city–charming news this!” They reached Philadelphia on that evening, plundering farms on their way, as they marched in. Sally devoutly adds, “May we ever be thankful to the Almighty Disposer of events for his care and protection of us while surrounded with dangers.

“Major went to the army. Nothing for him to do so he returned.”

On the following day she writes, “Our Army moved, as we thought to go into Winter quarters, but we hear there is a party of the enemy gone over the Schuylkill, so our Army went to look at them.

“I observed to Stoddard: ‘So you are going, to leave us to the English.’

“‘Yes, ha, ha, ha! Leave you to the English!'” was his answer, and the glance that accompanied it spoke volumes.

At noon he was gone again, leaving Sally pining for new fields to conquer. She did not have to wait long as there were already at the farm two officers, whom she now deigns to notice, and describes as “A Captain Lipscomb and a Mr. Tilly;” the latter she calls, “a wild noisy mortal who appears bashful with girls,” and she adds, “We dissipated the Major’s bashfulness, but I doubt we have not so good a subject now. He keeps me in perpetual humour but the creature has not addressed one civil thing to me since he came.” An incentive to exert all her charms and force a victory, Mistress Sally!

It was now nearly the Christmas season, and Stoddard was again at the farm, for a brief visit, when an amusing incident took place. Sally was sitting in her aunt’s parlour with the other girls, darning an apron when Major Stoddard joined them, and began to compliment her on her skill, with the needle.

“Well, Miss Sally, what would you do if the British were to come here?” he asked.

“Do!” exclaimed Sally, “be frightened just to death!”

He laughed and said he would escape their rage by getting behind the figure of a British grenadier which was upstairs. “Of all things I would like to frighten Tilly with it,” he said. “Pray, ladies, let’s fix it in his chamber to-night.”

“If thee will take all of the blame we will assist thee,” said wary Sally.

“That I will,” he replied, and then they made their plan to stand the life-size figure of the grenadier which was of a most martial appearance, at the door which opened into the road (the house had four rooms on a floor with a wide entry running through), with another figure which would add to the deceit. One of the servants was to stand behind them, others to serve as occasion offered.