so to avoid the
Throng." Another time when he discharged an overseer for incompetency he
lessened the pain of parting by writing for the fellow "a Character."

When he went to Boston and was named as Commander of the Army, his chief
concern seemed to be how he would make peace with Martha. Ho! ye married
men! do you understand the situation? He was to be away for a year, two,
or possibly three, and his wife did not have an inkling of it. Now, he
must break the news to her.

As plainly shown by Cabot Lodge and other historians, there was much
rivalry for the office, and it was only allotted to the South as a
political deal after much bickering. Washington had been a passive but
very willing candidate, and after a struggle his friends secured him the
prize--and now what to do with Martha! Writing to her, among other things
he says, "You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you in the most
solemn manner that so far from seeking the appointment I have done all in
my power to avoid it." The man who will not fabricate a bit in order to
keep peace with the wife of his bosom is not much of a man. But "Patsy's"
objections were overcome, and beyond a few chidings and sundry
complainings, she did nothing to block the great game of war.

At Princeton, Washington ordered campfires to be built along the brow of a
hill for a mile, and when the fires were well lighted, he withdrew his
army, marched around to the other side, and surprised the enemy at
daylight. At Brooklyn, he used masked batteries, and presented a fierce
row of round, black spots painted on canvas that, from the city, looked
like the mouths of cannon at which men seek the bauble reputation. It is
said he also sent a note threatening to fire these sham cannon, on
receiving which the enemy hastily moved beyond range. Perceiving
afterwards that they had been imposed upon, the brave English sent word to
"shoot and be damned." Evidently, Washington considered that all things
are fair in love and war.

Washington talked but little, and his usual air was one of melancholy that
stopped just short of sadness. All this, with the firmness of his features
and the dignity of his carriage, gave the impression of sternness and
severity. And these things gave rise to the popular conception that he
had small sense of humor; yet he surely was fond of a quiet smile.

At one time, Congress insisted that a standing army of five thousand men
was too large; Washington replied tha