#pg. 157

“Why, I've done all the screaming already," said the Queen.

       Spring holds so many delights. Its recurrent promises should humble and dwarf and yet invigorate a man.

       Washington, as a farmer, felt this, but was in no mood to realize it to full extent.

       He had a sputtering Lafayette to deal with.

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       He sat at his desk and said to Lafayette, “Try to be tame to this, Marquis.”

       “I should call Gates to a duel!” Lafayette said in a boy’s fury. “I cannot be tame to it. Nom de Dieu, to put me to an expedition with a great show of stir and then to make of me the butt of disgrace and jokes in America--in Versailles--in the whole world! Expedition, parbleu? Hah! An aborted monster! A madman’s dream! I sit in Albany with my hands tied. I am left sitting so. I am told, ‘My esteemed Marquis, you will get the things you require.’ I do not get them. Axmen, wagoners, engineers, mortars, powder and shot--they do not appear. All is turvy-topsy. The regiments are not paid. I write to Gates for money. ‘Yes, yes, esteemed Marquis, of a sureness you shall have it.’ I do not get the money, which I learn goes elsewhere. It is a cheatery to me. I am pulling at a rope of sand, and General Conway is going out of his mind for the vexation. And then--pouf!--airy as you please, our loud expedition is ended and we are ordered to return. I know where I will return! I will return to France!”

       Washington let the gale glow itself out.

       When there came a breathless stop he said, “You had every right to expect support, Marquis.”

       “But no support at all. That Gates is a--is a--oh, mort du diable!” And Lafayette wound up in a flurry of French that could only have been profane.

Episode 2: I Tire of Fashionable Attire

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