“Washington?” repeated Ethel enquiringly. “I think I never heard of him before. He was a good man, I suppose?”
“Yes, my dear, and a great one also. I think there was never a better or greater mere man. He is called the father of his country because, with the help of God, he did more to gain her liberties than any other man.”
“Oh, if it isn’t too much trouble, will you please tell me about him and what he did?” Ethel asked eagerly, adding, “I’m only a little girl, you know, ma’am, and haven’t lived in America very long; so I don’t know much about its history.”
The lady smiled, and softly stroking the child’s hair, “Do you call yourself English, my dear?” she asked in a pleasant tone.
“No-o, ma’am,” returned Ethel doubtfully; “papa was English but—but mamma, you know, was born on this side of the ocean, so I suppose I’m only half English, and Cousin George told me I’d have to be an American now, as I’ve come to live in this country.”
“And you don’t object?”
“Oh, no, ma’am; America seems a very good country and my cousins are all Americans, because they were born here.”
“Yes; the generality of us Americans think these United States, taken all together, make the best land the sun shines on, as it certainly is the freest.”
“Are all the people in it good, ma’am?” queried Ethel innocently.
“No, my dear, I am sorry to have to acknowledge that that is far from being the case. True very many of the wicked ones—burglars, murderers, and the like—are of foreign birth or parentage, but some are natives and the children of natives. But I must answer your question about Washington. He was the great-grandson of a gentleman named John Washington, who came over from England and settled in Virginia, which was then an English colony, as were the other twelve States. There were thirteen in all of those that formed the Union in the beginning. Do you know anything about how the colonies were settled in the first place?”