"I have to write a composition about George Washington. When was he born, Ruthie?" Ruth was busy and did not appear to hear. "Say! when was he born?" repeated the ten-year-old.
"Eighteen seventy-eight, I think, dear," said Agnes, with more kindness than confidence.
"Oh-o-o!" gasped Dot, who knew something about the "Father of His Country." "He was dead-ed long before that."
"Before when?" demanded Ruth, partly waking up to the situation.
"Eighteen seventy-eight," repeated Tess, wearily.
"Of course I meant seventeen seventy-eight," interposed Agnes.
"And at that you're a long way off," observed Neale, who chanced to be at the Corner House that evening.
"Well! you know so much, Mr. Smartie!" cried Agnes. "Tell her yourself."
"I wouldn't have given her the date of George's birth, as being right in the middle of the Revolutionary War," exclaimed Neale, stalling for time to figure out the right date.
"No; and you are not telling her any year," said the wise Agnes.