That I was named for him and that, when he was
done with it, I should have my grandfather's ancient powder-horn. It is
red and carved out very nicely, covered with beautiful scrolls and
old-fashioned letters. The two first letters of my grandfather's name, W.
N., are on it, and toward the smaller end of the horn--my father's given
name, John. These were inscribed on it long since the horn was made. It
was made when Washington was about twenty-five years old, and, no doubt,
saw service in the French and Indian war, in the defence of the English
colonies of America. Its history, some of it, is shrouded in mystery. It
has passed down through the revolutionary war, and the war of 1812,
through four generations of men, and was given to me by my father as an
heir-loom, a relic of the past.
Next to my father's given name is the inscription, E.b. Then follows
these old lines:
"I, powder, with my brother ball,
A hero like, do conquer all."
"'Tis best abroad with foreign foes to fight,
And not at home, to feel their hateful spite,
Where all our friends of every sex and age,
Will be expos'd unto their cruel rage.
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