"And I to the White House, sir."
"Then our ways lie together. Are you acquainted in Washington?"
"Somewhat, sir."
I began to think this rather a surly farmer, he was so chary of words, so I looked at him more narrowly. But I saw nothing surly in his face. Indeed, at a second glance, I decided it was as fine a face, its features as clearly chiseled, as one often sees, and the eyes, beneath the broad white brow, were full, open, and benignant.
"He is no ordinary farmer," I said to myself, "but most like a wealthy Virginia planter of education and social standing, but careless in matters of dress." Therefore I addressed him with a shade more of respect than I had hitherto used:
"I am a stranger in Washington, sir," I said, "and if you are better acquainted here, I thought perhaps you would be so good as to tell me something of the city."
He unbent immediately, and not only pointed out every object of interest on the road, but in a very delicate and gentlemanly manner proceeded also to pump me as to my name and errand in Washington. I was not more amused at his curiosity than at the skilful method he employed in trying to satisfy it, but, as I flattered myself, I gave him but little satisfaction.
In reply to some question of mine about the debate in Congress on the Mississippi question, he gave me such a masterly exposition of the whole subject, so clearly and concisely put into a nutshell, I began to think my eccentric planter was a political genius, possibly a member of Congress, though if so I thought his horse was headed the wrong way.
But evidently I had lighted unwittingly upon a rich mine of information. It was never my way to neglect my opportunities, and I began at once to ply him with questions about men and things in Washington. Last of all, I asked him about Mr. Jefferson.
Now my family was not of Mr. Jefferson's party: we were ardent admirers and strong partizans of Mr. Hamilton. Not that we had any fault to find with Mr. Jefferson, except for his quarrel with Hamilton. But bethinking me that it was quite possible my planter might be a "Democrat," as Mr. Jefferson calls his party, I spoke guardedly, I thought.