in, he had the gravity
and the sadness born of responsibility, and the suffering sure to come
to an unselfish mind. It was at this time that he began to be most
closely observed of men, and hence came the idea that he never
laughed, and therefore was a being devoid of humor, the most
sympathetic of gifts. But as a matter of fact, the old sense of fun
never left him. It would come to his aid at the most serious moments,
just as an endless flow of stories brought relief to Lincoln and
carried him round many jagged corners. With Washington it was hearty,
laughing mirth at some ludicrous incident. Putnam riding into
Cambridge with an old woman clinging behind him; Greene searching for
his wig while it was on his head; a young braggart flung over the head
of an unbroken colt; or a good, rollicking story from Colonel Seammel
or Major Fairlie,--all these would delight Washington, and send him
off into peals of inextinguishable laughter. It was ever the old,
hearty love of fun born of animal spirits, which never left him, and
which would always break out on sufficient provocation. Mr. Parton
would have us believe that this was all, and that the common-place
hero whom he describes never rose above the level of the humor
conveyed by grinning through a horse-collar. Even admitting the truth
of this, a real love of honest fun and of a hearty laugh is a kindly
quality that all men like.

But was this all? Is it quite true that Washington had only a love of
boisterous fun, and nothing else? It is worth looking a little deeper
than the current stories of the camp to find out, and yet one of these
very camp-stories raises at once a strong suspicion that Mr. Parton's
conclusion in this regard, like so many conclusions about Washington,
is unfounded. When General Lee took the oath of allegiance to the
United States, he remarked, in making abjuration of his former
allegiance, that he was perfectly ready to abjure the king, but could
not bring himself to abjure the Prince of Wales, at which bit of irony
Washington was greatly amused. The wit of the remark is a little cold
to-day, but at the moment, accompanying as it did a solemn act of
abjuration, it was keen enough. Washington himself, moreover, was
perfectly capable of good-natured banter. Colonel Humphreys challenged
him one day to jump over a hedge. Washington, always ready to accept
a challenge where riding was concerned, told the colonel to go on.
Humphreys put his horse at the hed