Now this is a poor little story, with no point at all save to illustrate Mary Washington's estimation of the relative importance of the sword and the ploughshare. Like all others it is changed as the years pass. A short time ago a revised edition reached me from the West. This is the amended story: "'What are you doing there with my horses?' said an irate old woman who appeared just then on the field. 'Leave the place instantly!' 'But--Madam--we have orders from the Commander-in-chief! We must obey.' 'Well, then, you may just obey _me_! Go back and tell your _Commander-in-chief_' (with great scorn and derision) 'that his mother's horses are not for sale, and he can't borrow 'em till her spring ploughing is done.' It was the part of prudence to leave. The officers left!" The story grew to this proportion in a hundred years. Given another hundred, and we will find that Mary Washington laid violent hands on the men who claimed the horses, and chastised the ploughmen who surrendered them. In 1765 two pair of observant eyes opened upon the world, and were focussed upon the "awe-inspiring" lady, Betty Lewis, little Betty and Dr. Charles Mortimer's little Maria. The children were playmates, schoolmates, and girl friends from a very early age, each intimate at the other's home and both intimate at the home of Mary Washington. They adored her! They found naught to remember but smiles, gentle words, sweet, motherly ways. Betty (afterwards Mrs. Charles Carter) has furnished many of the unimportant traditions quoted in various accounts of her grandmother's home life. They come to us as traditions of traditions, not to be despised, yet not to be accepted as history. The other pair of eyes were keener for the dress and belongings of her venerable friend. To Maria Mortimer, daughter of Mary Washington's physician, we are indebted for the familiar picture of the short skirt and sack,--a sort of cote-hardi,--the mob cap, the table upon which lay "Sir Matthew Hale" and his ally, in the presence of which there was such small hope for the sinner. Freshly gathered from the friendly peach tree, this was used as freely--this much we willingly concede--as circumstances demanded. The two children played happily at her knee despite the menacing tools of the Inquisition, which we would fain believe were never used on them. [Illustration: Mrs. Charles Carter.]