"Yes, indeed," answered Annie, "glad enough. Just think; no more hard sums either. I do believe arithmetic is meant on purpose to torment us, and that's the reason Willie made that mistake with such a grave face, when the lady asked him how far he had gotten in his sums."
"So it is," cried Clara; "Willie said he had got to distraction; I, for one, wish that all the people that make the arithmetic books had to eat them with pepper-sauce the moment they were printed—and that would be the end of them."
"But compositions! Just think of compositions!" cried Harry; "they are the most hateful things. Just because I wrote in my last one, that 'a mule is a beast of burden which draws a rail-car shaped like a zebra, and is sometimes used for carts with two long ears and a miserable tail,' they all burst out laughing at me, and I very nearly cried—I did cry."
"Well, never mind, Harry," cried George; "it is all over now, and we are going to that delightful West Point: I wonder if those soldiers we saw parading with the Japanese last Saturday came from West Point? they were such splendid fellows."
"Yes, indeed," cried Harry; "I dare say they did; they looked as if they were afraid of nothing, but would be really glad to have an arm or a leg shot off in every battle, and are so brave, that they would keep on fighting the enemies of America, if they had only an ear and one great-toe left."
Charley lifted his head and laughed at this, for he could hear all the children were saying; and he whispered to his mother, "Isn't Harry a funny fellow? The idea of one ear, and a great-toe firing a gun!" and he laughed again a sweet, low laugh; and Clara, who was sitting nearest, took his small thin white hand and kissed it, and patted it, and murmured, "Oh, Charley, I'm so glad you are happy; I'm so glad that cruel pain has gone away."
All this time they had been passing many beautiful villages and elegant country mansions, half buried in luxuriant foliage. They were now leaving the Tappaan Sea; and soon after the little mother showed the children Sunnyside, the lovely home of the great Washington Irving.
"He does not live there any more," said she; "his home is now 'Eternal in the Heavens;' but his fame, and goodness, and renown will live in every land for many, many years; and I hope the beautiful Sunnyside will never fall into neglect or decay as long as his memory lasts."
The children looked with mournful in terest at the beautiful place; but when their mother pointed out the spot where Major Andre was captured, there was quite a difference of opinion; the boys were glad that he, the spy, was taken and hung by the great Washington, while the more tender-hearted girls wished he could have escaped: and Minnie said, "General Wassingter ought to have forgiven him, because he would not like to be hung himself—would he?" which, I think, was the golden-rule way of putting the case.
And now the banks seemed to close in, and great dark mountains rose on either side.