The Major walked slowly up the steps and seated himself comfortably in the arm-chair I had just occupied, and then waited patiently until I drew up a chair and was seated. I saw he had some important news, but, of course, was not discourteous in my haste to find it out. The Major had served through the entire French war with Colonel George Washington, and was a man of the most pronounced military method in all things. It would have been showing a gross disregard for his training had I even suggested that he should hurry and tell me what was uppermost in his mind, before he had thought carefully upon the proper manner and time for doing so. For himself, he was most punctilious, at all times, in his manner and address to gentlemen of his own rank and station. He was sometimes truculent of speech, but he even went so far into the matter of politeness and good breeding that when his trusty body servant, Snake in the Grass--he always had a humorous way of naming his people--forgot to bow properly and remove his hat on one or two occasions, he had the rod-like contrivance rigged upon the slave's back which lifted and replaced his hat as I have described. The idea that Snake was a lazy, shiftless nigger, never entered the Major's head. Snake may have been a good servant, but for my part, I've always stuck to the old method of training one's people and have seen more than one Prince George county nigger all the better for a little dressing with a small hickory switch; especially when extenuating his circumstances. My cousin, Will Byrd, who was a few years my senior, came out of the house on hearing us talking, and, after greeting the Major, had a small table brought within easy reach. Upon this was placed a bottle of brandy, some sugar, ice and sprigs of young mint. The Major sat there silently stroking his beard while Will mixed the beverage, nor did he even offer my cousin a suggestion, knowing well the mixture that had been famous in Judkins' Hall ever since the days my grandfather and Lord George Fairfax honored its roof. But because we held our English ancestry dear, and observed their customs, don't think that we were rank tories. Will and I had both been friends of Lord Dunmore, before he started his aggressive policy, but since then we had had little to do with him. We also held aloof from the too radical followers of Mr. Patrick Henry. That is, from all except Major Bullbeggor. The Major had been my father's friend, and since his death had always been a welcome visitor at the Hall, even though he had helped to raise a company sent to Boston, and had joined Colonel Woodford's militia.