ought of anything else that ought to
be done; he had but a very short time, he said, to remain with his
friends. The secretary answered that he could think of nothing, and that
he hoped the General was not so near his end as he thought. Washington
smiled, and said that he certainly was, "and that, as it was a debt
which we must all pay, he looked on the event with perfect resignation."

Sometimes he seemed to be in pain and distress from the difficulty of
breathing, and was very restless. Lear would then lie down upon the bed
and raise and turn him as gently as possibly. Washington often said, "I
am afraid I shall fatigue you too much"; and when the young man assured
him that he wished for nothing but to give him ease, Washington replied:

"Well, it is a debt we must pay to each other, and I hope that when you
want aid of this kind you will find it."

He noticed that his servant, Christopher, had been standing most of the
day, and told him to sit down. He asked when his nephew Lewis and his
adopted son Custis, who were away from home, would return. When his
lifelong friend, Dr. Craik, came to his bedside, he said: "Doctor, I die
hard, but I am not afraid to go. I believed from my first attack that I
should not survive it. My breath cannot last long." The doctor was
unable to answer from grief, and could only press his hand.

He afterward said to all the physicians: "I feel myself going. I thank
you for your attentions; but, I pray you, take no more trouble about me.
Let me go off quietly; I cannot last long." He continued to be restless
and uneasy, but made no complaints, only asking now and then what time
it was. When Lear helped him to move, he gave the secretary a look of
gratitude. About ten o'clock at night he made several efforts to speak
to Lear before he could do so. He finally said: "I am just going. Have
me decently buried; and do not let my body be put into the vault in less
than three days after I am dead." Lear nodded, for he could not speak.

"Do you understand?" asked Washington.

"Yes."

"'Tis well," said the dying man.

About ten minutes before death his breathing became easier; he felt his
own pulse, and the expression of his face changed. One hand presently
fell from the wrist of the other. Lear took it in his and pressed it to
his bosom.

Mrs. Washington, who sat near the foot of the bed, asked in a firm
voice, "Is he gone?"

Lear was unable to speak, but made a sign that Washington was de