Pratt winked, and the boy looked again at the hem of the tablecloth. Pratt would explain it all later.

“Look around you, Mr. President,” he continued. “You see nothing but Yankee businessmen and merchants, tightfisted citizens who give nothing away without expecting something in return.”

“And in return for the tea set?” asked Washington.

Pratt took a deep breath. He was about to tap the anger of every man in the room. “They expect favors from the new government.”

“Why, that’s absurd!” announced Hancock, as he gestured for more port.

Now, Pratt ignored the Governor. “New England is the seat of American shipbuilding. The men of Boston hope their gift will put them in favor when it comes time to build warships for the new navy.”

“Mr. President,” protested Revere, “I donated my time with no ulterior motives whatsoever.”

“Certainly not,” shouted Pratt. “Your motive is clear. If the government smiles upon you, Revere and Son will make the spikes and sheathings and cast the cannon for the new frigates!”

Andrew Cabot, shipper and Revolutionary privateer, rose in anger. “Mr. President, this man makes a mockery of these proceedings.”

Pratt laughed at Cabot. “The new government may consider imposing tariffs and duties on men like you and me, unless we appeal to its head with silver tea sets.”

Two more stood to decry him, and Pratt could see the indignation rising like a spring tide.

“I am an architect,” announced Charles Bulfinch. “Am I seeking personal gain by showing my esteem for our President?”

“New York City will not be our capital forever, sir. Perhaps the President will give you the chance to deface a new city with your monstrosities.”

Elias Haskett Derby, another shipper and one of Pratt’s chief competitors, spoke out. “Mr. President, I beg hearing. Horace Taylor Pratt is not representative of the merchants of Boston.”

Others shouted their support of Derby, but Washington would not intervene. After two weeks on his inaugural tour, after two days of parades and tribute in Boston, he was finding this little controversy most amusing. He looked toward Pratt.

“I buy goods. I ship goods. I make money. Just like Mr. Derby,” said Pratt. “But I curry favor with no man.”

“Least of all the men in this room,” cracked John Adams.

“Least of all the Vice-President.” Pratt leveled his gaze on Adams and felt the anger overflow all around him.

“Dammit, Pratt!” Samuel Adams took the floor. He was the elder cousin of the Vice-President, the elder statesman of Massachusetts. “You’re a disgrace. A damnable disgrace, and I demand an apology right now.” He looked at Washington. “President’s banquet or not, no man worth his salt ought to sit here and take this!”

“Hear, hear!” Andrew Cabot turned to Samuel Adams and began to applaud.