on?" asked the doctor.

"He--call me--when he ready: me call you."

"Good! Then I shall go to dinner."

"We had better eat our dinner," said the lieutenant: "it is growing
late.--Come and have some dinner, Washington."

Washington seemed not quite sure that he understood correctly. He had
a modest distrust of his English. In the matter of an invitation to
dinner doubt is admissible. "You--want _me_--" here George Washington
tapped himself on the savage breast--"eat--with _you_?" And here,
gracefully reversing his hand, with the index extended, he touched the
lieutenant on the civilized bosom.

"Yes: come in."

We three entered the tent. As it was an ordinary "A" tent, with a
sheet-iron stove in it, it was pretty full with the addition of two
good-sized white men and an Indian of no contemptible proportions. The
lieutenant and I sat on the blankets, camp-fashion: Washington sat on
my heavy riding-boots, with the stove perforce between his legs.

"Good wahrrm!" ejaculated George Washington, hugging the stove.

"Hustleburger!" shouted the lieutenant.

"Yes, sir."

"George Washington will take dinner with us. Set the table for three."

"All right, sir, lieutenant!"

"Good man--docther," Washington remarked, nodding several times to
emphasize his observation: "ver'--good man--docther."

We eagerly assented, pleased to see that the Indian appreciated the
doctor's kindness to his people.

Rabelais's quarter of an hour began to hang heavily on us. Washington
was equal to the occasion: taking a survey of the tent, he nodded
approvingly and remarked, "Good tepee."

"Not bad this weather."

"Good eyes!" said Washington in a burst of enthusiasm.

These two simple words in their Homeric immensity of expression meant
all this: "The fire made on the ground in our Indian lodges fills them
with continual smoke, and consequently we Indians suffer very much
from sore eyes. Now, your little stove, while it warms the tent much
better than a fire, does not smoke, and your eyes are not injured."

Our habitual table, a small box, was not constructed on the extension
plan. It would not accommodate three. So Hustleburger handed directly
to each guest a tin cup of macaroni soup. Washington disposed of the
liquid in a very short time, but the elusive nature of the macaroni
rather troubled him. We showed him how to overcome its slippery
tendency. Smacking his lips, he said, with a broad smile, "Good! What
you call him?"

"M