Arizona republican., 1903-03-02
ORIGINAL RATCHET STORY
And Its Probable First Appearance in
 Pri.t.

If the gentle reader has. sense of humor. coupled with love of old books. let him read The Life of George Washington: With Curious Anecdotes, Equally Honorable to Himself and Exemplary to His Young Country men," by NJ. L. Weems, formerly rec
 tor of Mount Vernon parish. 1908.
 He will find this quaint, unauthenuc
 history a constant source of amuse- ment from cover to cover. The author begins with the boyhood of the Father of His Country, and the hatchet story is told, probably for the first time in print. as he says the an ecdote was related to him twenty years
 before by ''an aged lady, who was 3 distant relative, and when q girl spent much of her time in the (WashingtoD family" Tt is,' he adds. too valu- able to be lost, ard too true to be doubted"
 The story, with it's original punctu- ation. is as follows:
 When George was about six years
 old. he was made the wealthy master of q hatchet! of which. like most little | boys, he was immoderately fond; and s everything that came in his way. "One day. in the garden. where The often amused himself hacking his mothers pea-sticks. he unluckily tried
 the edge of his hatchet on the body of beautiful young English cherry tree,
 which Ee parked so terribly that l don't believe the tree ever got the bet ter of it.
 The next morning the old gentle man. finding out what had befallen his | tree. which. by the way. was great favCrite, came into the house: and with
 much warmth asked for the mischiev- GUS author. declaring at the same time,
 that he would rot have takcn five guineas fer his tree. Nobody could tell him anything about it.
 Presently George and his hatchet made their appearance. George said his father. do you know who killed | that beautiful little cherry tree wonder in the garden? This was a tough question: and George staggered under
 it for d moment: but quickly recovered himself: and looking at his father. with the sweet face of youth frightened with the inexpressible charm of all- conquering truth, he bravely cried out. I can't tell lie, Pa; you know l can tell a lie. I cut it with my hatchet. | Run to my arms. you dearest boy, cried his father in transports. run to
 my arms: glad am l, George, that you
 killed my tree; for you have paid me for it a thousand fold. Such an get of horoism in my son is worth more than thousand trees. though blossomed with silver, and their fruits of purest
 gold" "
 Perhaps a word about the author of tl-is nearly forgotten history would not be amiss just here.
 The Rev NJ. L. Weens. a native of | Virginia, was an Episcopal clergyman
 whose circuit at one time extended
 over a goodly portion of Virginia and
 North Carolina.
 Ire circuit riders life seventy five wears ago was not an easy one. but
 though the summer sun poured down | its blistering rays or the cold winds of winter swept round the old parson s
 high seated gig. still he logged con i tertedly along, for he found many
 drops of sweetness in life's cup. And i first of all was his cherished fiddle, snugly stored under his old gigs seat. l The writers great uncle kept open house, as was usual at that day, for
 the wayfarinS stranger. and no one
 was more welcome than this cheery old
 minister. When supper was over. with
 many jest. he would tune his fiddle
 and play. while the young folk, with | blithesome hearts, danced to his merry | tunes.
 Then resting by the fire he would en-
 certain them with stories whose rare
 humor never failed to hold the atten-
 tion.
 And when facts gave out, he would all unconscioCsly. wander into the
 realms of fancy. and a vivid imagina-
 tion put the finishing touch to many a
 tale.
 LEGALLY QCALIEIED