History of the United States in Words of One Syllable

by Helen Wall Pierson

The coat is laid off, and the boots. Ah, what is this? The hand of Ar-nold in this; and "West Point" the date. A shout went up, "He is a spy!"

He was a young Eng-lish man by the name of An-dré. He took his watch and purse, and said he would give them all, if they would let him go free. They would not, but took him to the near A-mer-i-can Post to try him. Of course, what Ar-nold had done all came out. He had known this would be the case, for as soon as the news was brought that An-dré was in the hands of our men, he took leave of his wife, gave a kiss to his boy, and sped on his way to an Eng-lish ship. He got to Eng-land, and was paid a large sum of gold; and they gave him a fine place at the head of some troops; but no man would make a friend of him. The Eng-lish had been glad to use him, but they would not take him by the hand.

You may think what a life he had. His own land had cast him out, but he came back to fight her at the head of the foe. But the new land where he had made his home had no real place for him. Once in the great house in Eng-land, where the wise men meet to talk of their laws, one rose to make a speech. But when he saw Ar-nold in a seat near him, he said, "I will not speak while that man is in the house." Long years after, when one of the great men of France had it in his mind to come to this land, he went to Ar-nold for some notes to his friends. Ar-nold said, "I was born in A-mer-i-ca. I spent my youth there; but Ah! I can call no man in A-mer-i-ca my friend."

In the mean time An-dré, the young Eng-lish man, who had met Ar-nold, and got the plans which were to give us up in to the hands of the foe, was shown to be a spy. There was but one doom for a spy. He must be hung. All felt for his fate. He was young, and had a fine face, and the air of good birth; but his hour had come. Tears were shed at his death; though he was our foe. All knew he was a brave man, who had not been slow to risk his life in the cause of his land. He thought he was right, and took all means to serve his own ends. For Ar-nold, who would have sold his own, there was but hate, and they gave him a name which would serve to show what his crime had been to all time—Ar-nold the Trai-tor!

All this while the French had been our friends; but they had not met with a chance to show what they could do, till a great fight came which made an end of this war. This was at a place by the name of York-town, in Vir-gin-ia. Wash-ing-ton was there with his troops, and the French Gen-er-al, who had a hard name, which you may learn one of these days, was with him at the head of his men. They took the best works of the Brit-ish, and made such a brave stand, that Lord Corn-wal-lis thought it would be wise to leave by night, with all his troops. But a storm came, and they could not get off, so they all had to give up to Wash-ing-ton.

There was a grand scene that day, in the fall of 1781, when Wash-ing-ton and his French friends stood in two ranks, and their old foes took up a slow march by them, and laid down their arms as they went. Great was the joy in all the land when the news was known. Those who woke that night in Phil-a-del-phia, heard the watch cry, "Past two o'clock and Corn-wal-lis is ours!" When the news came to Con-gress, they sent out word for a day to be set, in all the States, to give thanks to God, and all who were held for debt, or for crime, or what cause it might be, were set free, that they might share the great joy.

Well might they all be glad, for this meant the end of the war. It had cost them dear in gold as well as lives; but it had been worse for Eng-land than for them. The sums she had spent were vast, and one could not count the lives she had lost. Add to this the fact that she had lost this great land, which had once been all her own, and now was made free. Our land now took a new name. You can read it, I know, though it is not in short words, "The U-nit-ed States of A-mer-i-ca."

CHAPTER VIII.
IN TIMES OF PEACE.

When peace came, the men who had been in camp went to their own homes. They were all poor, and did not know what to do. There was no gold in the land, but a kind of cash which was so bad that it took more than you could count to buy a pair of shoes. Gen-er-al Wash-ing-ton found his task more hard to keep all in good cheer, now there were no fights on hand, than when they were at war. There had to be a tax on some things to keep all right, and they did not want to pay the tax, or their debts at this time. Wash-ing-ton felt that things were at loose ends, and he must make them more strong.