Book Report On George Washington's Life

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In 1732, when Ben Franklin was at work on his newspaper, a boy was born on a plantation in Virginia who was one day to stand higher than even the Philadelphia printer. That boy when he grew up was to be chosen leader of the armies of the Revolution; he was to be elected the first president of the United States; and before he died he was to be known and honored all over the world. The name of that boy was George Washington. Washington's father died when George was only eleven years old, leaving him, with his brothers and sisters, to the care of a most excellent and sensible mother. It was that mother's influence more than anything else which made George the man he became. George went to a little country school, where he learned to read,…show more content…
He was a well-meaning boy, but he had a hot temper, and at times his blue eyes flashed fire. In all trials of strength and in all deeds of daring, George took the lead; he could run faster, jump further, and throw a stone higher than any one in the school. When the boys played "soldier," they liked to have "Captain George" as commander. When he drew his wooden sword, and shouted Come on! they would all rush into battle with a great hurrah. Years afterward, when the real war came, and George drew his sword in earnest, some of his school companions may have fought under their old leader. Once, however, Washington had a battle of a different kind. It was with a high-spirited colt which belonged to his mother. Nobody had ever been able to do anything with that colt, and most people were afraid of him. Early one morning, George and some of his brothers were out in the pasture. George looked at the colt prancing about and kicking up his heels. Then he said: "Boys, if you'll help me put a bridle on him, I'll ride him". The boys managed to get the colt into a corner and to slip on the bridle. With a leap, George seated himself firmly on his back. Then the fun began. The Colt, wild with rage, ran, jumped, plunged, and reared straight up on his hind legs, hoping to throw his rider off. It was all useless; he might as well have tried to throw off his own skin, for the boy stuck to his back as if he had grown there. Then, making a last desperate bound into the air, the animal burst a blood vessel and fell dead. The battle was over, George was victor, but it had cost the life of Mrs. Washington's favorite

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