consisted of two pieces, which in Winter were further added to by hat and
boots. If the weather was very cold, the suits were simply duplicated--a
boy wearing two or three pairs of trousers instead of one.

The mother was the first one up in the morning, the last one to go to rest
at night. If a youngster kicked off the covers in his sleep and had a
coughing spell, she arose and looked after him. Were any sick, she not
only ministered to them, but often watched away the long, dragging hours
of the night.

And I have noticed that these sturdy mothers in Israel, who so willingly
give their lives that others may live, often find vent for overwrought
feelings by scolding; and I, for one, cheerfully grant them the privilege.
Washington's mother scolded and grumbled to the day of her death. She also
sought solace by smoking a pipe. And this reminds me that a noted
specialist in neurotics has recently said that if women would use the weed
moderately, tired nerves would find repose and nervous prostration would
be a luxury unknown. Not being much of a smoker myself, and knowing
nothing about the subject, I give the item for what it is worth.

All the sterling, classic virtues of industry, frugality and truth-telling
were inculcated by this excellent mother, and her strong commonsense made
its indelible impress upon the mind of her son.

Mary Washington always regarded George's judgment with a little suspicion;
she never came to think of him as a full-grown man; to her he was only a
big boy. Hence, she would chide him and criticize his actions in a way
that often made him very uncomfortable. During the Revolutionary War she
followed his record closely: when he succeeded she only smiled, said
something that sounded like "I told you so," and calmly filled her pipe;