the worship of God, and putting the people in fear of life and limb. They were fined 200 pounds of tobacco and imprisoned one hour.

For being a vagabond and cheating at cards Jacob Saunders was ordered to receive 25 lashes at the common whipping post, and John O'Neill was committed to jail and required to give security for good behavior for speaking traitorously of King George and Governor Gooch.

Presentments for swearing oaths and for not attending church were very common, and there were also presentments for not "raising corn according to law," and for "setting stops in the rivers," In 1741 Jonathan Gibson, clerk of the Court, and others were fined ten shillings each for not attending church for two months.

As late as 1803 sundry people, including some of the most conspicuous of the gentry, were before court for unlawful gaming. They were Zachary Herndon, Paul Verdier, Thomas Bell, James Madison, John Burnley, Willis White, Edmund Terrell, William Hamilton, John Pollock, William Terrell, Reuben Hamilton, George Hughes, Charles Bell, Thomas Barbour, Jr., William Madison, Jr., Thomas Davison, and Abner Newman. All were presented, and the presentments appear to have been dismissed.

Yet it is well in the memory of many people now living when gaming was more usual than otherwise at Orange, and that it was a regular habit for a "faro" outfit to be brought over from Culpeper every courtday, to remain as long as there was inducement.

So it is related, in the palmy days of the Orange Springs, known at first as the "Healing Springs," where James Coleman was licensed to keep a tavern as early as 1794, while it was yet a place of public resort, that gentlemen used to indulge in a quiet game there, as was also the case at several private residences in the County; and no great harm done. Happily times have changed greatly in this respect, and gaming for stakes appears to be a thing of the past.

Militia musters, both company and regimental, constituted a distinctly social feature down to the war. The companies had their convenient places of assembly for drill, and the contrast between the flamboyant and gorgeous uniforms of the officers and the homespun drab of the privates was very striking. The officers would be assembled for "training" for several days at a time prior to each annual "General Muster," and when that great occasion came the people flocked to see it as they now do to a circus. The appearance of the field and staff mounted on prancing steeds was a triumphal pageant, and when Allan Long and Peter Gilbert struck up "The Girl I left behind me" on fife and drum, the martial spirit became intense, and the maneuvres much involved. The new element in our citizenship, as one of the results of the war, has eliminated "musters" for all time, but they were great while they lasted.

It was a good old fashion, too, long continued and much enjoyed, to give neighborhood dances to the young people. There were simple music, ample refreshments, pretty but inexpensive apparel, and happy

people, young and old. It was part of the celebration of Christmas week to have these "parties," though by no means confined to that week. The young people attended them not to display gowns, or the lack of them, but to enjoy themselves in honest, simple, and innocent pleasures, which they did to the full. The poorer people, too, had their pleasant social amusements "during the consulship of Plancus."

Those were the years when the men who afterwards composed the Army of Northern Virginia were reared, and when their mothers and sisters were the women of Orange, such years and such pleasures as their posterity can never enjoy—Arcadian days when people met for pleasure not for display. Hœc olim meminisse juvabit!

They were continued for some years after the war, but that violent shock to social and domestic conditions put an end to them, and they remain only as pleasing and pathetic memories.

Educational facilities were few and simple, but such education as there was appears to have been practical and thorough as far as it went. It was the day of "OldField Schools," when a neighborhood, or the leading men of it, would employ a teacher for their children, build a log schoolhouse at some convenient point, and throw the doors open to all comers; to boys and girls, the rich and poor alike. The overseers' sons would be at the same desk, when desks were to be had, and in the same classes with the planters' sons; and ordinarily "the three R's" would constitute the curriculum, though Latin was taught to all who wished to learn it. The