walk had whetted his appetite, and the pies looked exceedingly tempting;
but the shyness of childhood led him to say, "No, I thank you." When he
had delivered his message, he lingered, and lingered, hoping they would
ask him again. But the family were Quakers, and they understood yea to
mean yea, and nay to mean nay. They would have considered it a mere
worldly compliment to repeat the invitation; so they were silent. Isaac
started for home, much repenting of his bashfulness, and went nearly
half of the way revolving the subject in his mind. He then walked back
to the house, marched boldly into the supper-room, and said, "I told a
lie when I was here. I did want a piece of pie; but I thought to be sure
you would ask me again." This explicit avowal made them all smile, and
he was served with as much pie as he wished to eat.

The steadfastness of his whig principles led him to take a lively
interest in anecdotes concerning revolutionary heroes. His mother had a
brother in Philadelphia, who lived in a house formerly occupied by
William Penn, at the corner of Second Street and Norris Alley. This
uncle frequently cut and made garments for General Washington, Benjamin
Franklin, and other distinguished men. Nothing pleased Isaac better than
a visit to this city relative; and when there, his boyish mind was much
occupied with watching for the famous men, of whom he had heard so much
talk. Once, when General Washington came there to order some garments,
he followed him a long distance from the shop. The General had observed
his wonder and veneration, and was amused by it. Coming to a corner of
the street, he turned round suddenly, touched his hat, and made a very
low bow. This playful condescension so completely confused his juvenile
admirer, that he stood blushing and bewildered for an instant, then
walked hastily away, without remembering to return the salutation. The
tenderness of spirit often manifested by him, was very remarkable in
such a resolute and mischievous boy. There was an old unoccupied barn in