and maids, and the great breakfast would have been a failure, if Madam, with the presence of mind of her sex, had not suddenly bethought herself of the cows feeding on the common.
"To be sure, they belonged to her neighbors, and there was no time to ask leave, but it was a national affair; our allies must be fed; and feeling sure that her patriotic friends would gladly lay their cows on the altar of their country, Madam Hancock covered herself with glory, by calmly issuing the command, 'Milk 'em!'
"It was done, to the great astonishment of the cows, and the entire satisfaction of the guests, among whom was Lafayette.
"This milking feat was such a good joke, that no one seems to have remembered much about the great man, though one of his officers, a count, signalized himself by getting very tipsy, and going to bed with his boots and spurs on,—which caused the destruction of aunt's best yellow damask coverlet, for the restless sleeper kicked it into rags by morning.
"Aunt valued it very much, even in its tattered condition, and kept it a long while, as a memorial of her distinguished guests.
"The time when I saw Lafayette was in 1825, and there were no tipsy counts then. Uncle Hancock (a sweet man, my dears, though some call him mean now-a-days) was dead, and aunt had married Captain Scott.
"It was not at all the thing for her to do; however, that's neither here nor there. She was living in Fed-
