The Loom of Destiny
us. He's not English, you know; he's only an American boy."
"Well, I guess yes!" said Freckles with spirit, "and us Americans licked the English. We licked the stuffin' out of them twice, and we can do it again!"
"Freckles, you know that's a lie," calmly reproved Mary Edith.
"Not on your life." Freckles wagged his head knowingly. "I guess you never heard of Washington. He did n't do a thing to your old King George, did he?"
"Did he, Georgie?" asked Mary Edith, with a sudden qualm of fear. Georgie, long ago and in certain indirect ways, had heard something about this same Washington, and his face fell. He nodded.
"Then we just let him do it," protested Mary Edith. Freckles smiled a very superior smile. "You did, eh! Just ask Aunt Mary."
So the little cloud, no bigger than the face of patriotic Freckles, overcast the sky of a perfect day. A wordless sense of unhappiness fell upon Mary Edith and Georgie, and
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