old prison mines. Each morning he would replace the fetters and be checked by the prison guards. Each night he would work on his escape plans. He worked at picking bits of mortar around iron bars which were at the end of a narrow drainage channel. After weeks of hard labor, he was ready to flee. He had a narrow escape. He got into the narrow channel and could not get back into the prison, but was unable to get out the drainage channel. He worked for some time with his feet and finally pushed the stone which was impeding his progress. When all was ready, he and a few others escaped. For some reason David Wooster did not join his cousin Henry in the exploit.
    About a year later David Wooster, Jr. petitioned the State Legislature for his freedom. It was granted because he had served two of his four year sentence, and he had agreed to enlist as a soldier in the Continental army, as a condition for his freedom. He was released, and he eventually returned home. The estate of his father had been placed in the care of the town of Waterbury. After  the war it was restored to the family, and young David remained in the area and raised several sons: One of them became a Methodist minister and another a local magistrate.

THE RETURN OF THE LAST WOOSTER:

    An interesting account of the return of the last Wooster is given in Israel Warren's book. As his volume is out of print, and not generally available, we quote this passage from that book in full:
    "Four years after the termination of the war, a traveler, one day in the dusk of the evening, came to the house of Henry Wooster, Sr., in Derby, and asked permission to lodge for the night. He was weary and footsore, he said, and could go no farther. Hospitality in such cases was a habit of New England, and his request was granted. Mrs. Wooster was then engaged in preparing a kettle of hasty pudding for the family supper, and at her invitation the traveler partook of the repast.
    "In the course of it he contrived to turn the conversation upon the subject of her own family, and especially of her absent son. She recounted with a mother's partiality his amiable qualities, his manly agility and strength. Won by the interest he seemed in her story, she bewailed the sad occasion