Even before peace was declared, our French allies circulated large sums of gold and silver coin, which put to flight the wretched paper currency of our country, and in an incredibly short time quantities of French and English goods were imported. "Our people," laments an old writer, "suddenly laid aside their plain, home-manufactured clothing. Fine ruffles, powdered heads, silks and scarlets decorated the men, while the most costly silks, satins, chintzes, calicoes and muslins decorated our females. Superb plate, foreign spirits, and wines, sparkled on the sideboards, and as a necessary consequence the people ran in debt, and money was hard to raise." General Washington's family resumed their old-time habits of living. They rose early, breakfasted at half-past seven, dined frugally at two, retired early. "Those who come to see me," said the general, "will always find a bit of mutton and a glass of wine. If they expect anything more, they will be disappointed." Mary Washington and the mistress of Mount Vernon never laid aside their simple customs, dress, and occupations. They seemed to have formed, said Washington Irving, "an inveterate habit of knitting" in and out of the drawing-room. Walking about her garden, Mary Washington's fingers held the flying needles. The results were sent to somebody less fortunate than herself. Martha Washington kept up her "inveterate habit" long after she became the first lady in the land, presenting unfinished gloves of her own knitting to her friends to "finish and wear for my sake," thus delicately suggesting a plan by which the gift could be rendered more valuable, and at the same time inspiring her gay young visitors with something of her own spirit of industry.