"By fighting the Spaniards who abuse them so, papa?" asked little Elsie.
"Yes."
"What have they been doing to them, papa?" asked Ned.
"Oppressing, robbing, murdering them, burning down their houses, forcing them into the cities and towns and leaving them to starve to death there."
"Why, papa, how dreadful! I should think our folks ought to go and fight for them. I wish I was big enough to help."
"My dear little son, I am glad you are not," said his mother, drawing him to her side and giving him a fond caress.
"Why, mamma?"
"Because you might be badly hurt or even killed, and that would break your mother's heart."
"Then, mamma, I'm glad I don't have to go, for I wouldn't like to hurt you so," said the little fellow, stroking and patting his mother's cheek, and gazing fondly into her eyes.