which, at that time, was a method
of treatment universally adopted. The overseer was accustomed to bleed
negroes, but he hesitated to practise on Washington.

"I would not be bled; you need more strength instead of less,"
interposed his wife, but Washington had confidence in the method. "Don't
be afraid," he said to the overseer; "make the orifice large enough."

But he grew worse rapidly, and early in the morning Dr. Craik was sent
for. Washington said to Mr. Lear, his private secretary:

"I cannot last long. I feel that I am going. I believed from the first
that the attack would prove fatal."

"I hope not," answered Mr. Lear, rather surprised by these words. "The
doctor will give you relief, I trust, when he arrives."

"Do you arrange and record all my military letters and papers; arrange
my accounts and settle my books, as you know more about them than any
one else," Washington continued.

"That I will do," replied Mr. Lear; "but I hope you will live many years
yet."

"Do you think of anything else it is essential for me to do? for I am
confident that I shall continue but a very short time with you,"
continued Washington.

"I can think of nothing," answered Mr. Lear, and then repeated his
opinion that he was not so near the end.

Smiling, the great man responded:

"I am certainly near the end, and I look forward to the hour of
dissolution with perfect resignation."

Turning to Mrs. Washington, he said, "Go to my desk, and in the private
drawer you will find two papers; bring them to me."

The papers were brought, when he added, taking one paper in each hand:

"These are my wills. Preserve this one, and burn the other."

Dr. Craik arrived about ten o'clock, and remained with him until his
death. Drs. Brown and Dick were sent for, and every effort possible made
to save his life.

"I am much obliged for all your care and attention," he said to the
physicians; "but do not trouble yourselves any more about me. Let me
pass away quietly. I cannot last long."

Later he said to Dr. Craik:

"Doctor, I die hard, but I am not afraid to go." He was then struggling
for breath.

At eight o'clock in the evening he appeared unable to speak. Mr. Lear
says:

"I aided him all in my power, and was gratified in believing he felt it,
for he would look upon me with eyes speaking gratitude, but unable to
utter a word without great distress."

At ten o'clock he appeared to make a desperate effort to speak, and at
l