“Thank you, Missis Page,” the girl’s face had lighted with repressed joy, “sure I’m an American. I can’t do nottings mit the fight, like the soldiers, but you bet yer life I can knit for them, hein?” And the little daughter of Israel held up a strip of wool with its two shiny needles. “Shure und my hands are straight,” she continued pathetically, “even if my legs ain’t healthy.” Nathalie’s eyes blurred, but she answered smilingly, “Why, that will be lovely, Marie.” Then, turning towards the girls, she cried, “Every one in favor of appointing Marie Katzkamof captain of the Knitting Squad, please hold up her hand.” And every hand went up. “And we’ll call you Captain Molly,” went on Nathalie, “in memory of that brave young woman, Molly Pitcher, who, when her husband fell dead at the battle of Monmouth, during the Revolution, took his place,—she was carrying water to the soldiers,—seized the rammer of his gun, and fired it. And she kept on firing it,” cried Nathalie with glowing eyes, “with the shot and shell flying all about her, until the battle was over. And with that name and the bravery of _that_ Molly—for I know you are brave, Marie—I know you will do _your best_ for liberty, and for the soldiers who are on the firing-line, doing their best, as the Sons of Liberty, for the right of every man in the world.” After Lillie Bell had been duly elected vice-president of the club, and several other club matters had been disposed of, Nathalie proposed, as an inspiration to the girls, that they form a circle in the center of the room, and stand with clasped hands, to show the interdependence of one upon the other. “Then in turn,” she explained, “let each girl tell of some woman, or girl, who, by her bravery in doing what she could for some one else, or for the world, has given of her best to mankind, and shown that she was a true lover of humanity, and a daughter of liberty.” The girls, quickly grasping Nathalie’s idea, were soon standing in a circle, hurriedly trying to concentrate their minds on some one woman who had given of her greatness to mankind. “Can we tell about the Pioneer women?” asked a Girl Pioneer timidly. “Yes, indeed,” answered the young president, “and we ought to hear about them first, too, for they were the ones who really taught us what it means to love liberty. Although they were not the first women who did great things for their fellow-beings, they were the ones who made clear to us that real liberty means humanity, justice, and democracy for all.” Helen now started the liberty chain by clasping the hand of her neighbor on each side of her and telling of the women of the _Mayflower_, who, by their acts of sacrifice, and stern determination to worship God as they thought right, gave us religious freedom.