all put on a listening
look, he poured out a little yellow, squat, Dutch mug brimful of rich
brown cider from a big blue pitcher that Black Daddy had just placed
on a table close at hand, and, having wet his whistle therewith, began
his story. And now and then, as the story went on, the fire, keeping
its bright, watchful eye upon the old gentleman, would wink at him in
a sly manner, that seemed to say, "Well done, Uncle Juvinell,--very
well done indeed. You see, sir, I was quite right in what I told you.
We have hit upon the very thing. The little folks are enchanted: they
are drawing in wisdom with every breath. A merry Christmas to us all!"
Pop, pop! hurrah! pop!

I.

GEORGE AT SCHOOL.

A hundred years ago or more, there stood on the green slopes of the
Potomac, in the county of Westmoreland, Va., an old red farmhouse,
with a huge stone chimney at each end, and high gray roof, the eaves
of which projected in such a manner as to cover a porch in front and
two or three small shed-rooms in the rear. Now, although this house
was built of wooden beams and painted boards, and was far from being
what could be called, even for those times, a fine one,--looking as it
did more like a barn than a dwelling for man,--yet, for all that, it
had the honor of being the birthplace of the good and great George
Washington, who is said, by many very wise persons who ought to know,
to have been the greatest man that ever came into this pleasant and
glorious world of ours.

His father, Augustine Washington, was married early in life to Jane
Butler, who died after having borne him two sons, Lawrence and
Augustine. In a year or two after this loss, feeling the want of some
one to gladden his lonely heart and home, he married Mary Ball, the
belle of Horseneck, and said to have been the most beautiful young
lady in all that part of the country. By this union he was blessed
with six children, of whom our George, the eldest, was born on the
twenty-second day of February, in the year of our Lord one thousand
seven hundred and thirty-two.

It has often appeared strange to me that nothing should be known of
this great man's life up to the completion of his fifth year: and I am
sorry for your sakes, my little ones, that such is the case; for it
would be such a nice beginning to our story, could we say with
certainty that he distinguished himself by walking alone at the age of
five months; that he could pronounce "Mother" and "Good" wi