My Country, ’tis of thee
I cutta the cherry-tree,
Sweet land of libertee
My name is George Wash!
He bowed again as all laughed and applauded. Virginia took him in her arms and kissed him. While she was yet complimenting the boy on his fine speech Angela whispered to Vassar:
“My man Tommaso—he want to see you, signor! He send this—”
She slipped the note into Vassar’s hand, repeated her apologies and hurried from the lawn, shaking Tommaso:
“Ah, you leetle mik! You maka me seek—! I tella you play George Wash and cutta the cherry-tree—and oh, my Mother of God! You play hell and cutta the orange-tree!”
Little Tommaso took the scolding philosophically. Orange or cherry-trees were all the same to him. He merely answered his mother’s dramatic rage with a twinkle of his eye until she stooped at last and kissed him.
CHAPTER XIV
VASSAR looked at the scrawled note and saw that he must return to the city. The incident probably meant nothing and yet it brought to his mind a vague uneasiness.
He instinctively turned to Virginia who was looking at him with curious interest. She spoke with genuine admiration:
“I had no idea that any politician in America could win the hearts of his people in the way you hold yours—”