They ran so well that they all got away except one little fellow who had
a game leg. He stumbled and fell in a hole. A big British soldier raised
a musket to brain him. The little fellow looked up and cried: 'All
right. Kill away, ding ye--ye won't get much!'
"The Britisher laughed, picked him up, brushed his clothes and told him
to go home."
The Boy laughed again and again.
"He was a spunky one anyhow, wasn't he?"
"Yes," the mother nodded, "that's why the Red-coat let him go. And we
never could have endured if God hadn't inspired one man to hold fast
when other hearts had failed."
"And who was he?" the Boy broke in.
"General Washington. At Valley Forge our cause was lost but for him. Our
men were not paid. They could get no clothes, they were freezing and
starving. They quit and went home in hundreds and gave up in despair.
And then, Boy----"
Her voice dropped to a tense whisper:
"General Washington fell on his knees and prayed until he saw the
shining face of God and got his answer. Next day he called his ragged,
hungry men together and said:
"'Soldiers, though all my armies desert, the war shall go on. If I must,
I'll gather my faithful followers in Virginia, retreat to the mountains
and fight until our country is free!'
"His words cheered the despairing men and they stood by him.
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