lies in the fact that we speak the same language," said
Will. "Every word of abuse spoken by one is understood by the other.
Now, if the French or the Spanish or the Russians denounce us we never
hear anything about it, don't know even that it's been done."

"That's good ez fur ez it goes," said the Little Giant. "I've seen a lot
o' English that don't speak any English, a-tall, fellers that come out
o' the minin' regions in England an' some from London, too, that talked
a lingo soundin' ez much like English ez Sioux does, but it doesn't
alter the fact that them an' us ought to be friends. An' I reckon we
will be now, 'cause I hear they're claimin' that our Washington wuz an
Englishman, the same immortal George that they would hev hung in the
Revolution along with his little hatchet, too, ef they could hev caught
him."

Will laughed with relish.

"In a way Washington was an Englishman," he said. "That is, he was of
pure English stock, transplanted to another land. The Athenians were
Greeks, the most famous of the Greeks, but they were not the oldest of
the Greeks by any means. They were a colony from Asia Minor, just as we
were a colony from England."

"I don't know much 'bout the Greeks, young William, my lad, but ef the
English kin lay claim to Washington ez one o' their sons, 'cause he wuz
of pure English blood, then me an' most o' the Americans kin lay jest ez
good a claim to Shakespeare 'cause, we bein' o' pure British blood, he
wuz one o' our ancestors."

"Your claim is perfectly good, Giant. By and by, both Washington and
Shakespeare will belong to the whole English-speaking world."

"Its proudest ornyments, so to speak. Now, that bein' settled, I'd like
to go back to a p'int that troubles me."

"If I can help call on me."

"It's 'bout that song I wuz jest singin'. At the last line o' each verse
it says: 'An' the bell'wing thunders roar.' I've thought it over a heap
o' times, but I've never rightly made out what a bell'wing thunder is.
Thar ain't nothin' 'bout thunder that reminds me o' bells. Now what is
it, young William?"

Will began to laugh.

"What do you find so funny?" asked the Little Giant suspiciously.

"Nothing at all! Nothing at all!" replied Will hastily. "'Bell'wing' is
bellowing. The writer meant the bellowing thunders, and it's cut off to
bell'wing for the sake of rhyme and metre, a poetical liberty, so to
speak. You see, poets have liberties denied to other people."

"Wa'al, I recko