Rowland Evans Robinson,
A Hero of Ticonderoga
“ Lifting the canoe, they set her afloat, stepped lightly on board, and, kneeling in the bottom, sent her flying down the creek. They skirted the lake almost beneath the spreading branches of the maples, now already dappled with the tender green of budding leaves. A little back from the naked, western shore, with its crumbling ruins of the old French water battery, uprose the gray battlements and barracks of Ticonderoga, and the blazoned cross of England floating lazily in the breeze. ”
