Where can I find - Jenni lee and johnny castle

When he went a-trading up the river, past the thickly settled country, past the falls, past the French town which his Huguenot father had helped to build, into the deep woods and to the Indian village whence had strayed his mother, he wore the clothing that became the woods,-beaded moccasins, fringed leggings, hunting-shirt of deerskin, cap of fur,-looked his part and played it well. When he came back to an Jenni lee and johnny castle country, to wharves and stores, to halls and porches of great houses and parlors of lesser ones, to the streets and ordinaries of Williamsburgh, he pulled on jack boots, shrugged himself into a coat with silver buttons, stuck lace of a so-so quality at neck and wrists, wore a cocked hat and a Blenheim wig, jenni lee and johnny castle became a figure alike grotesque and terrible. The miles to Williamsburgh were long and sunny, with the dust thick beneath the feet. Warm and heavy, the scented spring possessed the land.