He was
the master of Nature now when they flew along the trail through the deep
woods. His horse had given him wings.
He looked up into the star-sown sky, and promised God to be kind and
gentle to all the dumb world for the love of the beautiful friend He had
given.
III
THE HERMITAGE
At the last stand on the banks of the winding Tennessee, the Major sat
up late in eager discussion about Old Hickory with an enthusiastic
Tennesseean. The ladies had retired, and the Boy listened with quiet
eagerness to the talk.
"Waal, we're goin' ter make Andrew Jackson President anyhow, Major!" the
Tennesseean drawled.
"I'm afraid they'll beat us," the Major answered, with a shake of his
head.
"How'll they beat us when we git ready ter make the fight?"
"Old Hickory says himself, he ain't fit--"
"I reckon we know more about that than he does," persisted the man from
Tennessee.
"The aristocrats don't think so--"
"What t'ell they got agin him? Ain't he the biggest man in this country
to-day? Didn't he lick Spain and England both at Pensacola and didn't he
finish the Red Coats at New Orleans--"
"They say his education's poor--"
"He knowed enough to make this country cock o' the walk--what more do
they want--damn 'em!"
"They say he swears--"
The Tennesseean roared:
"Waal, if all the cussin' men vote fur him--he'll sho be elected!"
"The real trouble--" the Major said thoughtfully, "is what the
scandal-mongers keep saying about his wife--"
"He's killed one son-of-a-gun about that already, an' they better let
him alone--"
"That's just it, my friend: he killed that skunk in a duel and it's not
the only one he has fought either.
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