Rambles about Portsmouth. Sketches of persons, localities, and incidents of two centuries: principally from tradition and unpublished documents. By Charles W. Brewster.

A" COMMODORE " MIFFLIN. 305
livelong summer, fearless alike of stone throwing boys and
impertinent dogs, both of whom (?) stood in wholesome
fear of the old gander's prowess: for verily he had been
victorious in many a battle ere these youthful men and
dogs had come upon the stage.
When the ground became frozen, or was covered with
snow, and commons were short, the geese would march, in
the most exact military order, down through the town to
the Parade (now vulgarly called Market Square,) where in
those days there used to be many teams from the country,
and where many grains, and sometimes quarts, of corn,
oats, and hayseed were scattered by the oxen and horses.
When the geese had eaten what they could find, and
sometimes received a few slashes from the teamsters'
whips, they would rise and fly to their home, clearing the
tops of trees and houses, and arriving safe.
But leaving the geese, let us go back to the Commodore,
inquiring what manner of man he was, and why he was
called Commodore.
James H. Mifflin, so he wrote his name in a plain and bold
round hand, was a military man, an English soldier, said to
be born in London, educated in the blue coat school, and
enlisted in the British army, in which he fought at the
battle of Bunker's Hill.
The story, used to run that he was wounded there,
though we never heard hiT say so; but by some mischance
he became a prisoner, and preferring to stay in this country
he was not exchanged, but came to Portsmouth, married
and settled here, where he lived and died, and where some
descendants now live.
His occupation here was that of a mason's tender; i. e.
he made mortar and carried bricks, and in his day was
deemed one of the best in that business.
On training days, when our land forces took the field,
Mr. Mifflin, as waiter to the field and staff officers, made a