“Why, madam, the very coat on my back belongs to that rascal George Washington, and I do not know when he may take a fancy to order me out of it. My soul is not my own. He drinks my whiskey, steals my tobacco, and takes my clothes before my face. As likely as not he will have on this very waistcoat before the week is out.” The Major stroked his well-filled velvet vest caressingly, as if he already felt the pangs of the approaching separation. “Oh, dear! You amaze me,” began Miss Jemima. “Yes, madam, I should be amazed myself, except that I have stood it so long. Why, I had once an affair with an intimate and valued friend, Judge Carrington. You may have heard of him, a very distinguished man! and I was indiscreet enough to carry that rascal George Washington to the field, thinking, of course, that I ought to go like a gentleman, and although the affair was arranged after we had taken our positions, and I did not have the pleasure of shooting at him. “Good heavens!” exclaimed Miss Jemima. “_The pleasure of shooting at your friend!_ Monstrous!” “I say I did not have that pleasure,” corrected the Major, blandly; “the affair was, as I stated, arranged without a shot; yet do you know? that rascal George Washington will not allow that it was so, and I understand he recounts with the most harrowing details the manner in which ‘he and I,’ as he terms it, shot my friend--murdered him.” Miss Jemima gave an “Ugh. Horrible! What depravity!” she said, almost under her breath. The Major caught the words. “Yes, madam, it is horrible to think of such depravity. Unquestionably he deserves death; but what can one do! The law, kept feeble by politicians, does not permit one to kill them, however worthless they are (he observed Miss Jemima’s start,)--except, of course, by way of example, under certain peculiar circumstances, as I have stated to you.” He bowed blandly. Miss Jemima was speechless, so he pursued. “I have sometimes been tempted to make a break for liberty, and have thought that if I could once get the rascal on the field, with my old pistols, I would settle with him which of us is the master.” “Do you mean that you would--would shoot him?” gasped Miss Jemima. “Yes, madam, unless he should be too quick for me,” replied the Major, blandly,--“or should order me from the field, which he probably would do.” The old lady turned and hastily left the room. III.