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of showing the king they are angry. Other people have decided they are not going to buy tea or even drink it anymore. That will be their way to show the king that they are angry.”

      “Just because they have to pay a few pence more for tea?” asked Felicity.

       “It isn’t only the tax on tea,” answered Mr. Merriman. “We colonists built this country with our own hard work. Many people feel we should govern it ourselves, without the king.”

      Without the king? Felicity couldn’t imagine it. “Do you think we would be better off without the king, Father?” she asked.

      Mr. Merriman sighed. “That is the question everyone is asking.”

      Felicity looked up at him. “Miss Manderly would call it a question of general interest,” she said.

      “Quite so,” said Mr. Merriman. “And I do not know the answer to it.”

      “Well, do you think I should not stitch a crown on my sampler?” Felicity asked her father.

      Mr. Merriman handed her some red silk thread. “I think you must answer that question for yourself,” he said. “Now come along, my child. ’Tis time we were on our way home.”

      Bananabelle

       CHAPTER 9

      elicity did not say anything to Elizabeth about the talk she’d had with her father about the king and tea. She was too confused and uncomfortable. She did not decide what to do about her sampler, either. She made a few stitches with the red thread at the top of her sampler, but they didn’t look like a crown, that was for certain. They looked like bumpy knots.

      “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “I’ve tangled my thread again! I shall have to cut it and start all over.” She and Elizabeth were working on their samplers at Elizabeth’s house one cold November afternoon.

      “My mother has some scissors in her chamber,” said Elizabeth. “Let’s go and fetch them.”

      “Will we disturb your mother?” asked Felicity.

      “Oh, no,” said Elizabeth. “She and Annabelle have gone out calling. They won’t be home for hours. Follow me.”

      Felicity and Elizabeth went up the wide staircase to Mrs. Cole’s bedchamber. “She keeps the scissors in her sewing basket,” said Elizabeth. “Over here, next to her wigs.”

      “I’ve never seen so many wigs and curls outside the wigmaker’s shop,” said Felicity. She looked at the five carved, wooden heads lined up in a row. “Do you think I might try a wig on?” she asked boldly.

      “Well, I suppose so,” said Elizabeth.

      Felicity took a wig of dark hair off one of the heads. “I have always wanted to see what I would look like with dark hair,” she said. She gazed at herself in the looking glass and giggled. “I look like a ninny!”

      Elizabeth giggled. “Oh, Lissie, you do look funny!”

      Felicity loved to make Elizabeth laugh. She picked up the bald wooden head and fluttered her eyelashes at it, just like Annabelle. “Oh, my darling Ben!” she said in a high voice. “It is I, your beautiful Bananabelle! You have stolen my heart away!”

      “Bananabelle!” Elizabeth laughed. “You sound just like her!”

      Felicity pressed her cheek against the wooden head’s cheek. “Let us be married, my darling Ben. And we can discuss questions of general interest all the day long! Oh, I love you, you handsome lad! Say that you love me, your Bananabelle, or I shall die!” She gave the wooden head a big, smacking kiss.

      “WHAT’S THIS?” Annabelle’s voice boomed from the doorway.

      Felicity pulled off the wig and whirled around. Elizabeth went white.

      Annabelle crossed her arms. “So this is what you and your rude little shopkeeper friend do, Bitsy?”

      Elizabeth did not say anything. She looked down at her shoes.

      Felicity said, “Oh, Annabelle. It was only a bit of fun.”

      “Fun?” snorted Annabelle. “You have no manners! I shall tell Mama what you’ve done. We shall see if she thinks it is fun. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells Bitsy never to speak to you again!”

      Felicity was not afraid of Annabelle. “If you tell your mother,” she said coolly, “I will tell Ben you are sweet on him.”

      “Oh!” sputtered Annabelle. “Oh!” She glared at Felicity. “You…you uncivilized brat!” She stormed from the room.

      Elizabeth looked at Felicity. Her blue eyes were troubled. “Why did you say that to her?” she asked. “Now she will be angry.”

      Felicity shrugged. “She is nothing but a bully. I don’t care if she is angry. She doesn’t scare me. She shouldn’t scare you.”

      “But I’m not like you, Felicity,” said Elizabeth. “I’m not brave. Annabelle can be mean sometimes. I’ve always been afraid of her.”

      “You don’t have to be afraid of her anymore,” said Felicity. “I am your friend now. I’ll help you. I am not afraid of old Bananabelle.”

      At last, Elizabeth smiled. “Lissie,” she said, “I’m so glad we’re friends.”

      “Me, too,” said Felicity. “But I’d best go along now. Will you walk with me?”

      The girls pulled their cloaks close around them, for the wind was sharp. They hurried along to Mr. Merriman’s store and ran inside, all out of breath. “Stay for a moment to get warm,” Felicity said to Elizabeth.

      There were six well-dressed men talking to Mr. Merriman and Ben. One of the men was holding a paper that had a long list of names on it. No one noticed the girls as they slipped into a corner by the fireplace and warmed their hands. Felicity looked up in surprise when she heard her father speaking. He sounded very stern, though his voice was steady.

      “Yes, I signed the agreement,” said Mr. Merriman. “More than four hundred other merchants around the colonies signed it, too. We have decided not to sell tea anymore. It is our way of showing the king we think the tax on tea is wrong.”

      “That is disloyal!” shouted one man. “It is wrong for colonists to go against the king! You know it is wrong, Merriman.”

      Elizabeth and Felicity hid behind a barrel. They were very quiet.

      “Gentlemen,” said Mr. Merriman firmly. “Do not tell me what to do in my store. I will do what my heart and my reason tell me is right.”

      “And what of those hotheads in Yorktown? Do you think they were right to toss good tea into the river?” said another man.

      “They threw that tea away to send a message to the king,” said Mr. Merriman. “They did what they thought was right.”

      “They were wrong to toss that tea!” said the man angrily. “And you are wrong to stop selling tea.”

      “Aye!” said another man. “You are making a grave mistake. You’ll get no more of my money, Merriman. None of us will ever shop here again! We won’t give our business to anyone who isn’t loyal to the king. Will we, gentlemen?”

      “No!” called out several of the men. The store shook with their shouts.

      Felicity turned to Elizabeth, but she was gone.

      Mr. Merriman’s voice was sad. “You gentlemen are my neighbors and my friends,” he said

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