The Washingtons were plain, hard-working people—­land-poor.  They lived in a small house that had three rooms downstairs and an attic, where the children slept, and bumped their heads against the rafters if they sat up quickly in bed.

Washington got his sterling qualities from the Ball family, and not from the tribe of Washington.  George was endowed by his mother with her own splendid health and with all the sturdy Spartan virtues of her mind.  In features and in mental characteristics, he resembled her very closely.  There were six children born to her in all, but the five have been nearly lost sight of in the splendid success of the firstborn.

I have used the word “Spartan” advisedly.  Upon her children, the mother of Washington lavished no soft sentimentality.  A woman who cooked, weaved, spun, washed, made the clothes, and looked after a big family in pioneer times had her work cut out for her.  The children of Mary Washington obeyed her, and when told to do a thing never stopped to ask why—­and the same fact may be said of the father.

The girls wore linsey-woolsey dresses, and the boys tow suits that 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; when he was repulsed she was never cast down.  She foresaw that he would be made President, and thought “he would do as well as anybody.”