When the twin sisters had completed their twenty-fifth year, which 

 was during the Revolutionary War, a party was given at Morven in 

 celebration of the birthday, and Colonel Aaron Burr was one of the 

 guests. When the festivities were at their height, a great roaring and 

 clanking of chains was heard in the cellar and Colonel Burr, drawing 

 his sword, boldly descended to investigate. After a time he returned 

 and reported that the disturbance had proceeded from the Devil, who 

 had come to seal the sisters as old maids, as they were twenty-five and 

 unmarried. Burr had argued the point with Satan, who was disposed to 

 be reasonable and had agreed that, in view of the war and the scarcity 

 of eligible young men, he would give the hapless maids five years more. 



The last of my yarns refers to the time shortly after the close of the 

 war, when Aunt Cuthbert had married and was equally renowned for 

 the plainness of her countenance and the keenness of her wit. A great 

 banquet was given in Philadelphia, which was attended by several 

 famous beauties and Mrs. Cuthbert, who was no beauty. An officer, 

 name unknown, either from dullness or malice, threw an apple of 

 discord into the company by proposing a toast to the fairest lady present. 

 This led to an embarrassed silence, for no one dared to accept the honour. 

 Finally, Aunt Cuthbert rose to her feet, curtsied profoundly and said: 

 "Thank you. General!" She sat down amid great applause, having saved 

 the situation. 



Because of his connection with the Navy, my Grandmother's father 

 lived in Washington and was there during the War of 1812. The dear 

 old lady remembered very distinctly the flight of the family before the 

 invading British in 1814. Her father feared capture as a naval officer 

 and took the children away in a two-wheeled cart, but her mother re- 

 mained behind to face the "insolent foe" and was none the worse for 

 the experience. Some of her letters remain to tell of the courteous treat- 

 ment the British officers gave her. My Grandmother's oldest brother, 

 Richard, was a midshipman on the U. S. S. Adams, which, to escape 

 capture by the British cruisers, took refuge in one of the Maine rivers 

 and was there burned. One of my Grandmother's favourite stories was 

 an account of the long and toilsome march of the officers and crew of 

 the Adams through the Maine woods after their ship had been destroyed. 



Two of my Grandmother's brothers were living in my time, Dr. 

 Lewis Hunter, of the Navy, lived in Philadelphia and the other. Major 

 General David Hunter, in Washington; I often visited at their houses. 

 Both of these "uncles," by courtesy, were very kind to me and I hold 

 their memory in a sincere affection. 



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