Like his master, he had a natural antipathy to “old women,” and as the Major’s threat for years had varied between “setting him free next morning” and giving him “a mistress to make him walk straight,” George Washington felt that prudence demanded some vigilance on his part. One day, under cover of the hilarity incident to the presence at dinner of Jeff and of his guest, Mr. Lawrence, Miss Jemima had pushed her inquisition even further than usual. George Washington watched her with growing suspicion, his head thrown back and his eyes half closed, and so, when, just before dinner was over, he went into the hall to see about the fire, he, after his habit, took occasion to express his opinion of affairs to the sundry members of the family who looked down at him from their dim gilt frames on the wall. “I ain’t pleased wid de way things is gwine on heah at all,” he declared, poking the fire viciously and addressing his remark more particularly to an old gentlemen who in ruffles and red velvet sat with crossed legs in a high-backed chair just over the piano. “Heah me an’ Marse Nat an’ Miss Margaret been gittin’ long all dese years easy an’ peaceable, an’ Marse Jeff been comin’ over sociable all de time, an’ d’ ain’ been no trouble nor nuttin’ till now dat ole ooman what ax mo’ questions ‘n a thousan’ folks kin answer got to come heah and set up to Marse Nat, an’ talk to him so he cyarn hardly eat.” He rose from his knees at the hearth, and looking the old gentleman over the piano squarely in the face, asserted, “She got her mine sot on bein’ my mistis, dat’s what ‘tis!” This relieved him so that he returned to his occupation of “chunking” the fire, adding, “When women sets de mines on a thing, you jes’ well gin up!” So intent was he on relieving himself of the burden on his mind that he did not hear the door softly open, and did not know any one had entered until an enthusiastic voice behind him exclaimed: “Oh! what a profound observation!” George Washington started in much confusion; for it was Miss Jemima, who had stolen away from the table to intercept him at his task of “fixing the fires.” She had, however, heard only his concluding sentence, and she now advanced with a beaming smile intended to conciliate the old butler. George Washington gave the hearth a final and hasty sweep, and was retiring in a long detour around Miss Jemima when she accosted him. “Uncle George.” “Marm.” He stopped and half turned. “What a charming old place you have here!” George Washington cast his eye up towards the old gentleman in the high-backed chair, as much as to say, “You see there? What did I tell you?” Then he said briefly: “Yes, ‘m.” “What is its extent? How many acres are there in it?” George Washington positively started. He took in several of the family in his glance of warning.