The Little Washington's Relatives

Old mammy couldn’t contain herself – she chuckled at the sight, but quickly dodged out of the door the moment she realized that she would be discovered.

Sharp ears had heard the amused giggle, however, and Anne turned quickly to see who was at the door. As she did so, she stepped on Martha’s skirt, thus bringing the bride suddenly to a halt. Jim and Anne collided with Martha and the rehearsal almost ended disastrously for that day, as George was disgusted, and Jack threw himself on a near-by lounge to laugh.

But the lounge had both back legs broken off, unseen or unknown to the children, and when Jack’s weight came against the upholstered back, the whole piece toppled over backward, rolling the occupant over with it.

Jack yelled, George laughed, John dropped the heavy history book on his toe and cried, and the others stood in surprise waiting for Jack to crawl out from under the lounge and appear again, this time with cobwebs and dust covering him.

Old mammy ran in at the clamor and helped the groom to his feet. Then all stood and laughed at the outcome of the first rehearsal of the great Washington-Custis wedding.

“Yoh mama says to come t’ tea! Mammy-cook baked some fine choklate cakes fer yo’ all,” said mammy seriously.

The wedding party exchanged looks with each other and it was seen that Jim appeared to be most uncomfortable. He looked back of him and then at his granny, then at his companions-in-disgrace, but they seemed not to feel the same dismay at a possible punishment such as Jim had reasons to anticipate.

Old mammy helped the wedding party free itself of the many and entangling articles of dress, and then they all hurried down to tea, regardless of mammy’s pleading to wash and brush up.

In the library, both mothers were waiting and chatting when the juvenile party rushed in. They never entered a room – it was either a mad rush from the hallway or a stealthy entrance through a window.

“Why, children! Haven’t you been up in the bathroom washing and dressing after the journey, and preparing to come down to tea?” asked Mrs. Davis in surprise.

“Oh, we prepared somewhat for tea, aunty, but not with soap and water,” replied Martha.

“What have you been doing all this time? – and here is John, too. How do you do, John? Come here and meet George and Martha’s aunt from Philadelphia,” said Mrs. Parke sweetly.

As John shuffled over to shake hands with Mrs. Davis, a woolly head peeped from between the folds of the velour portières, where a lean little body was completely hidden. Jim felt that, as Hercules the man-servant, he had a right to watch the toothsome refreshments disappear even if he couldn’t partake of the same.

“Well, mother, we really hadn’t a moment’s time in which to wash and dress. We’ve visited the whole place, met John and Jim, and rehearsed for the wedding. So, you see, we have been a bit crowded for time in which to brush up,” explained Jack.

“Wedding? What wedding?” asked Mrs. Davis, in surprise.

Mrs. Parke thought she saw light, however, and turned to George. “Is the Custis wedding coming off soon?”

“Yes, but Martha says she won’t marry me as Washington. She thinks Jack looks better in the cocked hat,” grumbled George.

“But looks never make the general!” laughed Mrs. Parke.

Then, turning to the still amazed guest, she explained.

“I have lately been reading the life of George Washington to the children and they have a great deal of fun playing the chapters as I read them. Only they sometimes have very realistic fun – for instance when they burned down the old homestead, and again when they went on a survey trip. Last week they had the dreadful battle between the French and British at Fort Duquesne, and as a result, our entire hedge is broken down for more than thirty feet in length.”

“Thank goodness, then, that history has reached the point where Martha Custis subdues the fighting inclination of George,” laughed Mrs. Davis.

The maid appeared with tea just then, and in the deep dish where so many tempting cakes had reposed in the early afternoon, there now were two lonely scorched cookies. Thin slices of buttered bread without jam, and hot waffles sugared but with no honey, caused consternation in all present.

“Katy, is there any jam?” asked Martha.

“Mammy say dat jam’s goin’ t’ stay locked up fer anudder day!”

“Katy!” gasped Mrs. Parke. “What are these scorched cakes doing here?”

“Cook say ast Marse George an’ Martha. Dey knows better’n we-all.”

“Oh, yes, I remember, mother. When our cousins arrived they felt very weak and hungry, so I suggested a little bite, to keep them up till tea was served. I found the dish of cookies the most convenient, and, not wishing to disturb the cook, who was busy, I insisted upon their having a few,” explained George.

And Martha hastily added: “Naturally, not wishing to make our visitors feel that they were giving us any trouble, we ate some cakes, too, to make them feel at home.”

“Well, the cakes felt very much at home, I’m sure!” laughed Mrs. Davis, who was accustomed to these escapades, as well as Mrs. Parke.

“But that need not deprive you ladies of the jam, you know!” hinted Jack.

“Nor uv dis ice cream dat cook sent up fer de two ladies t’ tek de place uv dem cakes!” added Katy significantly, placing a deep dish of French cream before each one of the ladies.

The children stared aghast at such partiality, and then looked at each other, wondering if they would have had ice cream, had they not eaten the cakes.

At the discovery that no cakes or jam were to be served at that tea, Jim silently disappeared from the friendly portières, and soon after appeared in the culinary department, watching for an opportunity to snatch a slice of bread and butter when his mammy’s back was turned. And, oh joy! An apple was right there by the homely chunk of bread. In another moment Jim and the apple were gone, and when mammy turned to put the apple in the barrel, the place knew it no more!

CHAPTER III – MARTHA CUSTIS’ STORY

Many eager eyes opened the following morning to a dismal sight. Rain fell as if it meant to wash away everything on top of the earth. It continued to rain all morning, and it thus behooved the ladies to provide amusement indoors for the active children.

“I think I will read another chapter of Washington’s life,” suggested Mrs. Parke.

“Read a quiet, uneventful chapter,” hinted Mrs. Davis.

“Read about the battle of Bunker Hill!” cried George.

“On a dreary day like this we ought to read about the dying of the first child of Martha Custis and then later, the death-bed scene of Colonel Custis. Then we can fill in time with reading of Mrs. Custis’ life with her two remaining children after she was widowed,” ventured Mrs. Parke.

But the objections violently raised against such mournful readings, soon quieted both ladies and led them to see the wisdom of a more active tale for that day.

“If you do not care to hear me read of Martha Custis’ bereavement perhaps you will like to hear of her second marriage?” said Mrs. Parke, turning over the pages of the book slowly.

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