"Of course they did," she answered, with
conviction. "You see my grandfather fought in the Revolution, so I
ought to know. But," with an entire change of conversation, "bravery
isn't the only thing in the world for a little boy to think of. He
should try to be nice and polite to everybody; obedient to his mamma
and gentle to his sisters; he shouldn't love to have his own way and go
ordering people about. I don't think," with sudden assurance, "you'd
have found Washington or Paul Revere or Lincoln behaving that way."
"Pooh! that's all you know about it," cried Stevie, ungratefully,
slipping down from his nest among the cushions; he did not relish the
personal tone the conversation had taken. "Didn't Washington order his
troops about? And anyway, Kate's just as 'ordering' as I am, and you
never speak to her about it." Then, before the old housekeeper could
answer, he ran out of the room.
You see that was Stevie's great fault; he was a dear, warm-hearted
little fellow, but he did love to have his own way, and often this made
him very rude and impatient--what they called "ordering"--to his
sisters, and Hitty and the servants, and even disobedient to his mamma.
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