“Yes,” answered John, “he probably did. I’ve always thought I’d like to have known Washington. I don’t believe he was the straight-laced old prig that the school histories try to make out. Between you and me, Ryerson, I fancy he was a regular old sport. Look at the way he could swear! Why, he could give cards and spades to a Nantucket skipper! The only really reprehensible thing that I can lay at his door,” continued John, as they turned and took up their walk, “is the way in which he established headquarters. I believe that if it hadn’t been for that weakness of his we’d have licked England long before we did. Consider the time he must have wasted. He was as bad as that old English queen――was it Bess?――that used to go through the country sleeping in people’s beds for them.” “There are a lot of Washington’s headquarters,” acknowledged Phillip. “I should say so. I can imagine the _Trenton Patriot_ coming out with something like this: ‘Word has been received from Philadelphia that Gen. George Washington will arrive in our midst on Thursday of next week for the purpose of establishing headquarters here. It will be a gala occasion in the history of our prosperous town and it is anticipated that all patriotic citizens for miles around will attend. The Stage Line will make extra trips and has offered a special rate of one and one-third regular fare. During the afternoon the ladies of the Front Street Methodist Church will serve refreshments in the old Armory Building on Main Street. Come one, come all.’” Phillip laughed, but doubtfully; John’s humour seemed to him to smack of irreverence. “George Washington,” summed up John, “was the Andrew Carnegie of his day.” “He was a great man,” said Phillip, his loyalty to the Greatest Virginian overcoming his awe of his companion. “He was indeed,” answered John, realizing that Phillip’s sense of humour did not extend to sacred ground. “He was great and good and human, and that’s a combination of virtues that you don’t often find. I know of only one other American who approached him in goodness and humanity, while perhaps lacking his greatness.” Phillip looked an inquiry. “And that was Lincoln,” said John. “Oh.” Phillip dropped his gaze gravely to the ground. John observed him smilingly. “You’re still a bit of a rebel, eh, Ryerson?” “I reckon so,” answered Phillip. “But I’ve heard my father say that Abraham Lincoln was a good man and a brave one, and that if he could have had his way the North and South would never have gone to war. But you can’t hardly expect us to――to think about Lincoln just the way you do up here, can you?” “No,” answered John gravely. “Only don’t be behind us in forgiveness, Ryerson.” “Do you think we are?” asked Phillip in surprise. “A little, maybe.” “But, sir, we lost!” “True.”