"Yes—I'm proud of you. I know what that gift cost a boy's heart. It was big because it was all you had and the pride of your soul was in it."
The sense of loss was gone and he was rich and happy again.
When the supper was over and they sat before the flickering firelight he asked her a question over which his mind had puzzled since he left the old soldier.
"Why is it," he said thoughtfully, "British soldiers can't fight?"
The mother smiled:
"Who said they couldn't fight?"
"The old soldier I gave my fish to. He said we just made hash out o' them. We've licked 'em twice and we can do it again!"
The last sentence he didn't quote. He gave it as a personal opinion based on established facts.
"We didn't win because the British couldn't fight," the mother gravely responded.
"Then why?" he persisted.