cers of superior rank. This, the main object of his
journey, thus happily disposed of, Col. Washington set out on his
return to Virginia: but, knowing that the Indian war-whoop was not
likely soon to be heard in the Shenandoah Valley, he indulged himself
so far as to tarry two whole weeks at New-York City; and for the best
of reasons, as I will tell you.

On his way to Boston, he had met here with the beautiful and
accomplished Miss Phillipps, with whom he was vastly pleased; and it
was for the nearer study of this young lady's charms, and further
cultivation of her acquaintance, that our young Virginia colonel was
now tempted for once in his life thus to linger on his way. Nothing
came of it, however, that anybody now can tell; although the lady, you
may stake your heads upon it, must and ought to have been highly
flattered at being thus singled out by the young hero whose name and
praise were in everybody's mouth. Perhaps his admiration never ripened
into love; and, if it did, his modesty, as in the case of the Lowland
Beauty, must have hindered him from making known his partiality.
Whatever it may have been, it is, at this late day, of little
consequence; for long before that year had passed away, with all its
anxious cares, its perils and privations, and with all its train of
ghastly Indian horrors, these tender sentiments had become to him
nothing more than pleasant memories.

XIX.

DARK DAYS.

It were long to tell you, my dear children, all that happened to
Washington, and all that he did for the next two or three years of his
life. I shall, therefore, in as brief and clear a manner as may be,
present to your minds a picture simply of those scenes in which he
figured as the chief actor; although there were, it must be
remembered, others who played a far more important part in this old
French War than our young Virginia colonel.

The French and Indians, early in the spring of these years, were wont
to cross the mountains at different points, and for months together
follow their usual programme of fire, plunder, and massacre, till the
approach of winter, when, loaded with booty and scalps, they would go
as they had come, only to return on the opening of the following
spring. With these cruel savages, and their scarcely less cruel white
allies, neither age nor sex found mercy; old men, tender women, and
helpless children, alike falling victims to their murderous tomahawks
and scalping-knives. Farms wer