It was the terrible winter of 1777. The snow lay thick on the ground, and the cold was piercing. Through the snow, a detachment of Patriot troops was wearily plodding toward winter-quarters at Valley Forge. Half-naked, hungry, and numb with cold, they pushed on. Presently Washington rode slowly up after them. He was eying the snow intently through which they had marched. There was something on its frozen surface, something red that he had tracked for many miles. Saluting the commanding officer, Washington drew rein. “How comes it, sir,” he said, “that I have tracked the march of your troops by the bloodstains of their feet upon the frozen ground? Were there no shoes in the commissary’s stores, that this sad spectacle is to be seen along the public highways?” “Your Excellency may rest assured,” replied the officer, “that this sight is as painful to my feelings as it can be to yours. But there is no remedy within our reach. When the shoes were issued, the different regiments were served in turn. It was our misfortune to be among the last to be served, and the stores became exhausted before we could obtain even the smallest supply.” Washington’s lips compressed, while his chest heaved with the powerful emotions that were struggling in his bosom. Then turning toward the troops, with a trembling voice, he exclaimed:-- “Poor fellows!” Then giving his horse the rein, he rode sadly on. During this touching interview, every eye had been bent upon him; and as those two words warm from the heart of their beloved commander and full of commiseration for their sufferings, reached the soldiers, there burst gratefully from their lips:-- “God bless your Excellency, your poor soldiers’ friend!” _George Washington Parke Custis_ (_Arranged_) AN APPEAL TO GOD On a cold wintry journey to Valley Forge, Mrs. Washington rode behind her husband on a pillion. He was on his powerful bay charger, and accompanied by a single aide-de-camp. On his arrival at Valley Forge, Washington placed her in the small but comfortable house of Isaac Potts, a Quaker preacher. So in all the trials of that Winter at Valley Forge, Washington had the most earnest sympathies, cheerful spirit, and willing hands of his loving wife to sustain him and share in his cares. She provided comforts for the sick soldiers. Every day except Sundays, the wives of officers, and other women too, assisted her in knitting socks, patching garments, and making shirts for the poor soldiers. Every fair day, she might be seen, basket in hand and with a single attendant, going among the huts and giving comfort to the most needy sufferers. On one occasion, she went to the hut of a dying sergeant, whose young wife was with him. His misery touched the heart of Mrs. Washington, and after she had given him some food prepared with her own hands, she knelt down by his straw bed, and prayed earnestly for him and his wife, in her sweet serious voice.