Accordingly he hustled through the dishwashing at a great rate the next morning, for his mother had lately decided that he might wash the dishes as well as wipe them. The dusting, usually carefully done, was a whisk here and a wipe there in the most exposed places. By such means did he obtain a half hour of extra time, and off he went up the railroad track on his way to General Brady's. He soon came to the point where he must leave the track for the street, and, the street being comparatively unused and so without a pavement, he was compelled to wade the snow. Into it with his short legs he plunged, only anxious to reach the house before the General started down town. And he was almost out of breath when he came to the corner and turned south on the cleared sidewalk. On he hurried and around to the kitchen door. "Is he gone?" he inquired, poking his head into the room where his brother was busily washing dishes. Mike stared. The door had opened so softly, the words were so breathless, and the little boy so very red in the face. "Who?" he asked in astonishment. "The Gineral," said Jim impatiently. "Just going," returned Mike. And at the words Jim was out with the door shut behind him. "What's got into little Jim?" thought Mike. Out of the yard flew Jim, and took on an air of indifferent loitering as he waited. Yes, there came the General. How broad his shoulders were! How straight his back! How firm his tread! At sight of all this little Jim squared himself and, a half block in the rear, walked imitatively down the street. It was all very well for his mother to say that Jim was a born fighter. But she had entirely overlooked the fact that he was a born mimic also. Here and there a smiling girl ran to the window to gaze after the two as they passed--the stately old General and his ridiculous little copy. But it was when they neared the square that the guffaws began. The General, being slightly deaf, did not notice, and little Jim was so intent on following copy that he paid no attention. Thus they went the entire length of the east side of the square, and then along the south side until, at the southwest corner, the old soldier disappeared in the doorway of the bank. By this time little Jim's shoulders were aching from the restraint put upon them, for Jim was not naturally erect. And his long walk at what was, to him, an usually slow pace had made his nose blue with cold. But instead of running off to get warm he pressed close against the big window and peered in at his pattern. He knew his back and his walk now, and he wanted to see his face. Presently one of the amused spectators stepped into the bank and spoke a few words to its president, and the General turned to look at the little fellow. "Who is he?" he asked. "One of your O'Callaghans, General," was the laughing answer. The General flushed. Then he beckoned to Jim, who immediately came in. "Go back to the stove and get warm, my boy," he said. "You look cold."