In a few moments Patty and mamma sat down to breakfast. Tony waited behind Mrs. Gray's chair. Judy had gone down to get poor Owen up, and the "slip of a girl" was kept at home from school to look after the shop.

As soon as breakfast was over, Mrs. Gray and Patty started for Arlington. Tony had offered to go with them himself, and mamma asked him if anything of value had been left in the house. Tony said there was very little. After General Lee had gone off to the war, the house was sold, because the taxes were not paid, and the United States bought it. All the valuable things were carried over to the Patent Office, where Patty had seen some of them, and Tony thought the government meant to send them back to General Lee, now the war was over.

That is too bad," said Mrs. her fair face flushing all over.

Gray, hastily,

"General Lee

is the last person to have the care of things that

we all value."

"Miss Sophie," said Tony, "I have got the key of the superintendent's room, and there are two or three things in the office that little miss there might like to see. Perhaps they may be gone when you come back."

So Tony opened the door of the office, and, standing on the table, Patty saw three dark-blue vases, one much larger than the other two. The largest vase had a cover, and on this cover there was a wild boar, beautifully painted. On the vase beneath there was a lioness and her whelps.

"Oh, mamma!" said Patty, "did he get these instead of his wild beasts?"

It very often happened that Patty said things no one could understand who did not know a great deal about her. Everything kept so fresh in her own little head that she never thought anybody could forget. Mrs. Gray had to think twice before she remembered the "wild beasts" that George Washington ordered for the drawing-room at Mount Vernon. The side vases had pictures of dogs upon them, and when Patty had looked at them long enough, mamma said,—

"You must carry them in your mind, Patty, for they used to stand on the beautiful mantel at Mount Vernon; and when you see it, you will want to remember them."

"Where did they come from?" said Patty.

"They were sent from London by Samuel

Vaughan," said her mother. "They came with the mantel-piece. They were made in India, and painted in London. Do you see the pretty landscapes on the back?"

There was only one other curious thing in the office, and that was an iron chest. It was covered with bars, riveted on, and it had a pretty rosette of iron on one side, that looked as if it were put there for beauty; but it only covered a key-hole. There were two strong handles, and some staples, through which a stout bolt shot when a spring was touched. Patty had not an idea what it could be for, and so mamma had to tell her.

"When Washington married," said Mrs. Gray, "his wife was a rich widow, with two little children, and in this box all her deeds and papers were kept. These papers were just the same as money. The box was brought from England, and is very strong. Mrs. Washington used to keep all the General's letters in it. He wrote to her almost every day, when he was away; but before she died, she ordered it brought into her chamber, and burned every letter with her own hand."

"Oh, what for?" said Patty.

"I do not know, dear; but there are a great many people who destroy the letters of those who love them best, or order others to do it. In Mrs. Washington's case it seems a great pity, for the General wrote to her about everything with great care, and all his letters were valuable. Only one was saved. It was a short note telling her of his appointment to the head of the army."

"Where is it now?" asked Patty.

"I do not know," said her mother. "Mr. Custis used to keep it in this very iron box, with the letter which told Washington himself of his election as President. Charles Thomson, as

Secretary of Congress, carried that letter to Mount Vernon, and there was no man whom Washington loved more."

९९

Who was he, mamma?”

"Patty," said her mother, "do you remember the four dingy books on my shelf at home, that we always take down when we want to read the Psalms, or the book of Job?"

"Oh, yes!" said Patty, brightly; "why, that is the book I like so much, because it makes sense! "

"That is a translation of the Bible that Charles Thomson made," said Mrs. Gray, "and very precious I think it. He was a little Irish boy who came over to America, when he was eleven years old, with his father and three brothers. His father died on the way, and they landed in Delaware as poor as boys could be. After a time Charlie was sent to school in Maryland, by his oldest brother. Books were so scarce then that there was only one dictionary for the whole school. Charlie read everything he could get. One of the boys had an old book called the Spectator. He read every word of it with delight, and when he heard that there was a whole set to be had in Philadelphia, he ran away from school, walked all the way there, and came back with his book!"

Patty clapped her hands. "I like that," said she.

"I believe Charles Thomson was a Friend," said her mother. "He was the first person who resisted the Stamp Act in Philadelphia. Congress made him its Secretary, and he was a man of such integrity that everybody trusted him. The Indians adopted him, and gave him a name which meant man of truth.”