"Ditto," said Maggie, interrupting him, "do you think that is all true?" "Pastor Harms would not have lied to save his right hand." "And--but--Ditto, do you think people in America are so bad as that?" Meredith smiled and hesitated. "Yes, Ditto," said Flora; "you know they are not." "I don't know anything about it," said Meredith. "There are not any better soldiers, I suppose, in the world than the Germans, nor anywhere such a band of army officers, for knowledge of their business and ability to do it. But there are some cowards in every nation, I reckon; and as there, so here. But among those old Saxons, it appears, there were none. As to truth"--Meredith hesitated--"There are not a great many people I know whose word I would take through and through, if they were pinched." There was a chorus of exclamations and reproaches. "And as to marriage-breaking," he went on, "it is not at all an uncommon thing here for people to separate from their wives or their husbands, or get themselves divorced." "Why do they do that, Ditto?" Maggie asked. "Because they are not true, and do not love each other." "So you make it out that the heathen are better than the Christians!" said Esther. "I do not make out anything. I am only stating facts. What is called a 'Christian nation' has but comparatively a few Christians in it, you must please to remember. But I do think those old Saxons were extraordinary people. I like to think that I am descended from them." "You, Ditto!" exclaimed Maggie in the utmost astonishment. "Why, yes, certainly. Don't you know so much history as that? Don't you remember that the Saxons went over and conquered England, and England was peopled by them, and ruled by them, until the Norman Invasion?" "Oh!" said Maggie with a long-drawn note of surprise and intelligence. "But I didn't know those Saxons were like these." "No, nor did I. It interests me very much. Shall I go on with Pastor Harms?