esence double the mirth and cheer of all the country-side
for miles and miles around. The fate of poor Reynard being duly
settled, they would repair either to Mount Vernon, or to the residence
of any one else of the party that chanced to be nearest, and wind up
the sports of the day by a hunting-dinner, at which they were usually
favored with the company of the ladies. At such times, Washington is
said to have entered so keenly into the general hilarity, as to quite
lay aside his accustomed gravity and reserve, and show himself almost
as jovial as the merry old lord himself. Speaking of these amusements,
brings to mind an anecdote of him, which I must tell you, as it will
give you a still more lively idea of the promptness and decision with
which he was wont to act whenever occasion demanded.

In those old-fashioned times, among many other laws that would seem
odd enough to us at the present day, there were many very strict and
severe ones for the protection of game, which made poaching (that is
to say, hunting on private grounds without leave or license from the
owner) no less a crime than theft, and punished the poacher as a thief
accordingly. Now, there was a certain idle, worthless fellow,
notorious for his desperate character, as being the most daring
poacher in seven counties, who was known to be much in the habit of
trespassing on the grounds belonging to Mount Vernon. This had been
forbidden him by Washington, who had warned him of the consequences if
he did not cease his depredations, and keep at a safe distance; but to
this the sturdy vagrant gave little heed. He would cross over the
river in a canoe, which he would hide, in some secret nook best known
to himself, among the reeds and rushes that fringed the banks, and
with his fowling-piece make ruinous havoc among the canvas-back ducks
that flocked in great multitudes to the low marsh-lands of that
region.

[Illustration]

One day, as Washington was going his accustomed rounds about the
plantations, he heard the report of a gun in the neighborhood of the
river; and, guessing what was in the wind, he forthwith spurred his
horse in that direction, and, dashing through the bushes, came upon
the culprit, just as he, paddle in hand, was pushing from the shore.
The fellow, seeing his danger, cocked his gun, and, with a threatening
look, levelled it directly at Washington, who, without heeding this in
the least, rode into the water, and, seizing the canoe by