were a great nuisance to the wealthy planters on its
banks. Fishing and duck-hunting lured them thither. One day Mrs.
Washington remarked to her husband, "I think that strangers are at the
landing."

"Are you sure they are strangers?"

"Yes, I think so," Mrs. Washington answered. "Look and see."

"They are strangers, surely," responded Washington, after a critical
look towards the landing. "An oysterman's craft, I think."

"What should an oysterman come to our landing for?"

"We shall find out before long, no doubt," Washington replied.

It was at the landing where the family barge was tied up. The affluent
planters kept beautiful barges, imported from England, for the use of
their families. Washington had one, rowed by six negroes, wearing a kind
of uniform of check shirts and black velvet caps.

They did find out very soon who the strangers were--an oysterman and his
crew. They were a drunken, noisy rabble, who disturbed the neighborhood
with their yells and revelry.

"They must be sent away," remarked Washington, as he hurried toward the
landing. But they were not in a condition to listen to his counsels.
They were in the defiant state of intoxication, and refused to evacuate.
They declared themselves able and determined "to hold the fort."

The hero of Monongahela was not to be defied in that way. He adopted
immediate measures to drive the mob away, but was not successful.
Finally, summoning his negroes, and organizing a campaign against them,
he forced them to leave, though, Irving says, "It took a campaign of
three days to expel these invaders from the premises."

At another time Washington was riding over his estate, when the report
of a gun on the banks of the river, not far away, startled him. Turning
his horse in the direction of the report, he soon discovered an
interloper in a canoe, making havoc among the canvas-back ducks which
were numerous on the river.

"Stranger," he called.

The hunter looked up.

"By what authority are you trespassing upon these grounds?"

The only reply that Washington received was, the hunter aimed his gun at
him as if to fire. But the owner of Mount Vernon had seen guns pointed
at him before; and, nothing daunted, he dashed into the river, shouting,
"Fire if you dare!"

Seizing the painter of the canoe, he drew it to the shore; then,
springing from his horse, he wrested the gun from the hands of the
astonished hunter.

"I am the proprietor of this estate," he s