It took a full week to win every prize contained in the packing case, but only half of the maxims had been learned, as there were more “Contemplations” than rewards. When the children heard there was no more prize clothing to be won they lost interest in the learning of Washington’s rules of life.

To insure continued interest in the maxims Mrs. Davis suggested a plan.

“Now that Mr. Parke bought and gave the army uniforms, I think I’ll ‘do my bit’ also. These children ought to begin to make things and earn money for War Relief in Europe. I had thought of getting them a lightweight boat that would float on the creek, but now that every one ought to do something I think I will send for wool and needles, that the girls may learn to knit vests, caps and mittens for our boys at the front. What do you think of it?”

“Oh, George and Martha have plenty of those things, but somehow they never sit still long enough to knit more than one row a day, and the war will end before they complete a single sock. Besides, they feel as if knitting was worse than going in the trenches, so I haven’t insisted upon the work as yet. Better supply them with the boat, where they can frolic and keep healthy out-of-doors without danger to themselves,” advised Mrs. Parke.

“Quite a difference in cash between a boat and knitting outfits,” laughed Mr. Parke.

“Yes, and quite a margin in health, too, as Kate says,” replied Mrs. Davis.

“Better let us share the cost of the boat together,” ventured Mrs. Parke.

“Indeed not! I have been wondering what to buy the two children as a gift when I came through Washington, but I determined to wait and see what they would enjoy most. Now that they have the General Washington idea in their minds, I think the boat is just the thing. They can have fights at sea and use it for crossing and recrossing the Hudson, the Delaware, or Lake Champlain, as they wish—all on the creek, where the water is not half as deep or dangerous as the Hudson,” explained Mrs. Davis.

“If you wish me to select one that I think will answer all purposes for the children I will do so, as I am going down to a building concern that specializes in canoes and pleasure crafts. I have to interview them about an insurance policy which they wish to increase. At the same time I can inquire as to the price of a light-weight boat,” said Mr. Parke.

So the next evening he returned home with news for Mrs. Davis. “I saw my man who handles boats and canoes and, fortunately, he had just the thing needed for the creek. He made the boat six months ago for some children, but the father lost a great deal of money in bad speculations and couldn’t pay the balance due on it. Now, you can have that same boat for the price still owing on the bill. In this way the children get a fine boat for the same cost as a cheap or poorer one.”

“I hope you ordered it sent on?” asked Mrs. Davis eagerly.

“Yes, I did so, for now that you have spoken of the idea I wonder that I never thought of a boat before,” replied Mr. Parke.

The Davises expected to remain about three weeks, but the first week had passed so quickly and the second week was so entirely taken up with studying maxims and winning prizes that it was not until the beginning of the third week that the plan was arranged to buy the Parke children a toy which they could enjoy for a long time.

All during the third week the Provincial army dressed in its hard-earned uniforms and paraded or drilled faithfully.

As usual, George was the commander-in-chief, John was Marquis de Lafayette, Jack was General Howe, although the Englishman wore the American uniform; Jim was the whole regular army, for Martha and Anne took turns in being General Sullivan, Nathan Hale, Allen, Schuyler, and others, just according to the battles fought or the places where the army camped.

Jim’s uniform was the same as that of the general, but his hat was different, and this constituted the rank. While George had a yellow tri-cornered hat trimmed with gold braid and tassels, Jim was made to wear a cap found in the attic chest. This was a sorry trial to Jim, who fondled the gold-trimmed hat he had won by learning maxims, but was not permitted to parade with it on. As Jack sternly told him when he protested, “We’ve got to keep discipline in the ranks, and if we should let you wear any fancy hat you wanted what would the army do?”

“Ah’m shore Ah donno, cuz dey ain’t no udder ranks den me!” retorted Jim rebelliously.

That made Jack think over the situation. And the result was: “Say, general, what’s the use of having so many officers and no regulars? Make Anne and Martha play the soldier once in a while; I need some one on my side besides myself.”

But Martha and Anne felt as much pleasure in their army uniforms, which were made exactly like the boys’, as the officers did in theirs, and they would not consent to wear common caps while gay cocked hats were put on the shelf.

So the argument over proper headgear in the army and the great need of more soldiers in the ranks continued all week, but the drilling with fife and drum and the rifle practice with dried peas or beans kept up, to the great amusement of the two ladies.

Saturday a telephone message came to the house while the army was on the lawn questioning Washington’s right to choose Englishmen to help Jack. It had been decided that John take turns being first French and then British to help out General Howe, and the girls were supposed to each take a side, but they declined the honor and preferred to remain American.

In the midst of an excited explanation from George why and wherefore, stating the reason the army never amounted to anything, Jim jumped up and pointed a trembling index finger at the driveway.

The others jumped up from the grass to see the cause of his surprise, and all stood still in wonderment.

On a long-framed wagon drawn by two truck horses lay a fine boat gayly painted in red, white and blue stripes. The ladies, Mrs. Parke and Mrs. Davis, walked behind the wagon as it slowly went down a side road that led over the bridge.

But the army did not remain long in a paralyzed state. Before the teamster had covered more than five yards of the side road crossing the creek British and American officers and men yelled and ran up to tug at the two ladies, demanding to know how the boat happened to be there.

So loud was the clamor that no one heard what any one else said, and the driver reached the creek, where many hands were eager to assist him in lifting the wonderful craft from the wagon to the creek.

“No, I sent for the gardener and chauffeur to help this man. He is responsible for the safe delivery of the boat, and it is not fair to him to risk its safety by letting excited boys help carry it from the wagon,” said Mrs. Davis firmly.

The two men soon arrived and helped transfer the boat to the water, where it rode gracefully on the slow surface of the stream. The teamster and the help went away, but the army was not aware of their going—all eyes were fixed on the boat.

Mrs. Parke told the children that it was a gift from aunty, so that they could play American history with a warship better than without any.

“Who can row? Can you, Jack?” asked George.

“No, but it’s easy. You just pull back and forth on the upper end of the oar and away she goes,” said Jack.

“Well, please take off the general’s uniform before you begin practice. A bathing suit would be better to wear while you are learning,” laughed Mrs. Parke.

“Why, we won’t fall out,” said Anne.

“There isn’t any reason why you should, but there is no telling when such experts in rowing as Jack, take a hand,” said Mrs. Davis.

George, John and Jack were already in the boat, but there was but one pair of oar-locks and one set of oars, so only one could row. Seeing that Jack’s mother presented the boat, George relinquished his prerogative as commander-in-chief, and sat down to watch his cousin row.

In spite of Jack’s explanation that all you did was “to just pull back and forth,” it seemed difficult to move the boat in the right direction. After many futile attempts, he turned over the oars for George to try.

The ladies stood on the bank laughing at the general’s failure to row properly, and then John also failed.

“Do you girls want to try?” asked Mrs. Davis.

Jim stood by grinning delightedly at the boys in the boat, but not daring to hope that he would ever be invited to row. Martha saw his intense attitude and whispered to her mother, “Let’s ask Jim if he wants to try?”

Mrs. Parke nodded smilingly. “Jim, do you want to try and see if you can move the boat?”

With a start of amazed joy, the “rank and file” of the American army stuttered and stammered that it would!

George and Jack jumped out, leaving John in the prow, and then Jim climbed in. He turned and said: “Does de lady officers wanta come in?”

“Not till you have your trial, Jim. Then they are going to try, too,” replied Mrs. Parke.

Now Jim had often accompanied his daddy on fishing trips for the day, and upon these excursions on the river, the little fellow had been taught how to manage a pair of oars and a boat. But the oars and boats found tied up to old tree stumps along the sluggish river banks were cumbersome, unmanageable affairs in comparison to this eggshell craft, with its ash blades to propel it on the bosom of the quiet creek.

Hence, Jim sat down and admired the oars to his heart’s content, and then examined the ribbed sides and deck-flooring of the inside of the boat. The shiny varnish and brass-studded wood enchanted his soul so that he forgot to take up the oars.

“Hurry up, Jim! Take your turn and then let the rest have theirs!” shouted George impatiently.

Jim grinned so that every glistening tooth in his wide mouth showed distinctly, and he bent to pick up the oar-blades. After fitting them methodically in the oar-locks, he sat down. But the boys noticed that he sat on the next seat to the one they had occupied when trying to row. They also saw him try to brace his feet against the foot-rack, but he was too short. They found, however, that Jim very well knew what he was about.

While the spectators held their breath in surprise, Jim bent back on the oars and slowly let the blade sink under water. He then bent forward, and as the flat sides of the oars pushed against the water, the boat began moving. With surprisingly regular and serviceable strokes for such a little shaver, Jim soon rowed the boat across the creek and started back for the landing, where his friends stood waiting to congratulate him.

“Behold, the conquering hero comes!” sang Mrs. Parke, as Jim brought the nose of the boat up against the mossy bank.

“My goodness! Jim knows more about a ship than any of us!” declared George, willing to give praise when it was deserved.

“He is the real captain—not the play-kind we made him on the raft that day!” admired Jack, looking Jim up and down to find out how such a miracle could happen.

“Ef yo’ all say Ah am a reel cap’n, den Ah ain’t goin’ t’ be no common solger no moh! Ah kin be a cap’n uv a warship!” said Jim daringly.

“He must be an admiral of the navy!” suddenly exclaimed Jack.

“And wear a sword from his belt—they all did!” added John, not to be outdone in magnanimity.

“And teach all the common seamen and marines how to row and manage a ship at sea!” laughed Mrs. Parke.

But Jim was overcome with so many unexpected honors, and he might have started for the barn to hide, had not General Howe challenged him.

“Admiral Dewey, I dare you to sail to Cuba and fight the Spanish fleet there!”

Jim looked around for explanations, and Jack laughed. “I mean, we will run over to John’s side of the creek while you sail the ship across the sea to attack us there.”

“No, Jim isn’t going to enter into any such plan as that! The boat is not to be used for a sea-fight till every one knows how to manage and row it,” interjected Mrs. Davis.

During the next week armies and uniforms were forgotten, while the children spent their entire time at the creek learning to row the boat. It had been named “The Washingtons,” and many wonderful cruises were planned by the American army that week.

Mrs. Davis had been persuaded to extend her visit over a fourth week, but now she said she must go home again. Mr. Davis wrote he was lonesome without the children, and the cook had gone the day after the mistress left. He had been eating at his club, but being a family man, he missed his home.

When Mrs. Davis learned of the cook’s leaving, she was annoyed, for the woman had promised faithfully to remain during her mistress’s absence.

“Dear me, I wish we had such faithful servants as you Virginia people have!” sighed she, thinking of the devoted help her cousin always had.

“Environment has much to do with it. If I lived North and you lived South, the tables would be turned. But do not let the loss of a cook make you hurry away from us,” said Mrs. Parke.

“It won’t, but I have already over-stayed my time a week, and I did want to stop off at New York on my homeward way and show the children some of the historic places there. Now, I suppose I’ll have to go straight home and find a cook!”

“If you will listen to me, I’ll make a suggestion,” said Mr. Parke, lowering his newspaper.

“We always listen to the men, but we seldom follow their advice,” laughed Mrs. Parke.

“I was about to say: Why not wire Sam to meet you in New York, and in that way forget his club dinners for a few days? I am going to New York on a business trip, and I had a vague idea of inviting my wife to accompany me. Now, if you will consider such a plan, we may as well take George and Martha, too, and make a family party of it. The children will be greatly improved by visiting all the points of interest mentioned to them in the history of George Washington’s life, and I am sure you ladies will enjoy taking them about during the day while I am busy with my New York branch of business.”

The ladies looked at each other with pleased surprise, for such a trip always met with approval from all concerned.

“I see you offer no objections, but it still remains for me to consult the four younger members of the family and hear their verdict!” laughed Mr. Parke.

“Oh, no—no! If you love peace and quiet at home, do not drop a hint of this proposed treat to them. Why, they’d have the whole place in an uproar until the time to leave for the train,” remonstrated Mrs. Parke.

“Just wire Sam and arrange it with him. We’ll fix up matters here, and, without a word to the children, prepare for a visit to New York,” added Mrs. Davis.

So it was done, but the party was not to start till Monday. On the Friday preceding, Mrs. Graham called at the Parke house to invite George and Martha to go with John on a visit to a great-aunt living in New York.

“I haven’t said a word to John about it, but I knew your visitors were going on Monday, and I thought the children would enjoy a trip if I promised to watch them well,” explained Mrs. Graham.

Then she heard of the secret plan and as she and John expected to start Tuesday morning, it was decided that she would change her plans and go with the others on Monday.

It is quite impossible to describe the excitement and deafening chorus that greeted the announcement of the New York trip. Mr. Parke was most grateful that he had not mentioned the event sooner; for even at that late hour he was not given a minute’s rest until the four wild travellers were safely seated in a Pullman chair going north to New York.

THE END