Jim obeyed and presently the General's friend went out.
"Now, my boy," said the General, walking back to the stove, "what did you mean by following me?"
Little Jim's blue eyes looked up into the blue eyes of the old soldier. "Our eyes is the same color," he thought. And then he answered: "My mother told me to be makin' a pattern out of you. She told the same to Pat and Mike, too, and I'm goin' to do it better than they do, see if I don't. Why, they don't walk fine and straight like you do. But I can do it. I larned this morning."
The General laughed. "And what were you peering in at the window for?"
"Sure and I wanted to be watchin' your face, so I did. 'Tis my mother as says I'm the born fighter, and she says, 'Look at the General. Does he be goin' round fightin' in times of peace? That he don't.' And she wants me to be like you and I'm goin' to be."
"What's your name?"
"Jim."
"Well, Jim, I don't think your mother meant that you should follow me through the street and try to walk like me. And you must not do so any more."
"But I knows how now, sir," objected Jim, who was loth to discard his new accomplishment.
"Nevertheless you must not follow me about and imitate my movements any more," forbade the General.