as they
had for several years been stretched over the Major's ample person. He
carried a well-worn beaver hat in his hand, which he never donned except
on extraordinary occasions.

"De pistils is ready, suh," he said, in a fine voice, which he
always employed when he proposed to be peculiarly effective. His
self-satisfaction was monumental.

"Where did you get that coat and waistcoat from, sir?" thundered the
Major. "Who told you you might have them?"

George Washington was quite taken aback at the unexpectedness of the
assault, and he shuffled one foot uneasily.

"Well, you see, suh," he began, vaguely, "I know you warn' never gwine
to wear 'em no mo', and seein' dat dis was a very serious recasion,
an' I wuz rip-ripresentin' Marse Jeff in a jewel, I thought I ought to
repear like a gent'man on dis recasion."

"You infernal rascal, didn't I tell you that the next time you took my
clothes without asking my permission, I was going to shoot you?"

The Major faced his chair around with a jerk, but George Washington had
in the interim recovered himself.

"Yes, suh, I remembers dat," he said, complacently, "but dat didn't have
no recose to dese solemn recasions when I rip-ripresents a gent'man in
de Code."

"Yes, sir, it did, I had this especially in mind," declared the Major,
unblushingly--"I gave you fair notice, and damn me! if I don't do it
too before I'm done with you--I'd sell you to-morrow morning if it would
not be a cheat on the man who was fool enough to buy you. My best coat
and waistcoat!"--he looked affectionately at the garments.

George Washington evidently knew the way to soothe him--"Who ever heah
de beat of dat!" he said in a tone of mild complaint, partly to the
young men and partly to his old master in the ruffles and velvet over
the piano, "Marse Nat, you reckon I ain' got no better manners 'n to
teck you _bes'_ coat and weskit! Dis heah coat and weskit nuver did you
no favor anyways--I hear Miss Marg'ret talkin' 'bout it de fust time you
ever put 'em on. Dat's de reason I tuck 'em." Having found an excuse he
was as voluble as a river--"I say to myself, I ain' gwine let my
young marster wyar dem things no mo' roun' heah wid strange ladies an'
gent'man stayin' in de house too,--an' I so consarned about it, I say,
'George Wash'n'n, you got to git dem things and wyar 'em yo'self to keep
him f'om doin' it, dat's what you got to do,' I say, and dat's de reason
I tuk 'em." He looked the picture of s