e a spell, and, even at that
early age, was something to many quite overawing. The dinner, that had
at first, in his hurry, seemed so long in coming on, seemed now quite
as fast in going off. Not that I would have you suppose by this, that
he thought the guests were showing any indecent haste to make way with
the dishes that were set before them without number, and heaped up
without measure, on Mr. Chamberlin's ample board. On the contrary,
they partook of the good things of the table with a well-bred
slowness, that would have been beyond his endurance to bear, had Mars
been thundering with his iron fist at the gates of his fortress. But
as it was Cupid, only tapping with his rosy knuckles at the casement
of his heart, that dinner seemed no longer to him than, no, not half
so long indeed as, the shortest snack he had ever eaten on horseback
in the hurry of a forced march. The dinner over, Washington seemed in
no haste to depart.

The trusty Bishop, knowing well what a punctual man his master always
was, had appeared, according to orders, with the horses; and was
plainly enough to be seen from the parlor window, had any one cared to
look that way, patiently waiting with them in the pleasant shade of an
apple-tree. The fiery white charger soon began to paw the ground,
impatient at his master's unwonted tardiness; but no rider came.
Bishop Braddock shifted his place once, twice, thrice, to keep himself
and horses in the shade of the apple-tree; but still his master
lingered: and the ivory grin that settled by degrees on his ebony mug
showed that he had a sly suspicion of what was going on in the house.
The afternoon sped away as if old Time, all of a sudden forgetting his
rheumatism, had reached sunset at a single stride. Of course, they
would not suffer him to depart at this late hour: so Bishop was
ordered to restable the horses, and make himself easy and snug for the
night with the colored folks down at their quarters. The next morning,
the sun was hours on his journey to the west, before our love-smitten
hero was on his way to Williamsburg.

Once in the saddle, however, all his yesterday's impatience returned
upon him with redoubled force; and, giving his fiery white charger the
spur, he dashed away at a break-neck speed on the road to the Virginia
capital. It is said, so fast did he travel on that day, that, to keep
up with him, Bishop Braddock ran serious risk of having his woolly nob
shaken from his shoulders by t