es and the sampling done by the future
general of the United States Army is one that is easily imagined and
strongly appeals to those who know the worth of well made pies,--for in
spite of local pride, good pies are not all limited to New England.

To a reporter two or three years ago Aunt Susan said,[A] "Law, yes, I
remember John when he wasn't more'n two or three years old. When John
was big enough to put on trousers he used to eat more pies in our
kitchen than any other boy in town.

"He was back here about ten years ago. It was on the 24th day of
October that Uncle Henry Lomax came to my house and said, 'Aunt Susan,
there's a gentleman outside that wants to see you.' When I stepped
outside and saw a tall young man, Uncle Henry asked me if I knew who it
was.

"'Yes,' I said, 'it's John Pershing. I can see his mother's features in
his face.' He came to me with his arms open and he embraced me and
kissed me and we both cried. 'Aunt Susan,' he says, and I'll never
forget his words as long as I live, 'it does my heart good to see my
mother's dear old friends. The place seems like home to me and it always
will. I've been away a long time and there have been many changes, but
this is home.' The chrysanthemums were in bloom and after we had talked
a while in the parlor I went out and picked a bouquet for him to take
away.

"'They are going to have some kind of a reception for me to-night and I
want you to come, Aunt Susan,' he says. I told him I'd try to be there
but that I was tired and worn out because I had been working hard in the
garden. 'You won't have to walk, Aunt Susan, because I'll come after
you myself.' About five in the afternoon he came in a buggy. We went to
his reception together and my! what a crowd. The whole house was packed
and people were standing in the yard. Johnny shook hands with everybody
and talked to them and he finally made a speech, which I didn't hear
because there were so many people around. John Pershing always did have
talent."

This incident of his later years is eloquent of the earlier years--and
of Pershing's mother. Behind the figure of the living is another who
being dead, yet speaketh. "A splendid home maker."

The relatives of General Pershing disclaim all knowledge of this
incident and are inclined to pronounce it "mostly fiction." The incident
is taken from the _Missouri Historical Review_. In other forms also the
story has become current. A former friend of the family, now