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STORIES OF
tinental days, has been traced as far back as Oliver Cromwell's time, when, in words similar to our own it was sung in derision of the Great Protector (or Usurper, whichever you like). The air was handed down to the Puritans, and finally became a New England jig. In the natural order of things, it was fitted with appro-priate words by some revolutionary rhymester, and served such an excellent purpose in satir-izing the British troops, that it was adopted throughout the colonies as the patriotic song of the Sons of Liberty. At the present day, no American Fourth of July, or other festive occasion, is considered complete without its rendition, and its perennial music bids fair to last as long as the Republic itself."
I refrain from enlarging upon the irony of Paul's stealing the thunder to play upon Peter. There is much that seems probable in the above account, and it has received the support of most American papers during the last fifty years. There was an ancient rhyme that ran,
" Yankee Doodle came to town, On a little pony, He stuck a feather in his cap, And called it Macaroni. "
"Yankee Doodle" is said to have been a
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