106 WILD SPOETS m THE SOUTH. 



CHAPTER Yin. 



THE FIRESIDE AT FAR AWAY. 

 " 'Tis liome -wliere'er the heart is." 



Lou Jackson was not a beautiful girl — much less did 

 she deserve the title of pretty. Her eyes and hair were 

 both good, though the coarse and irregular eyebrow 

 gave a masculine cast to her regard. Her nose was 

 short, her mouth almost a line, and her complexion, 

 naturally dark, was further injured by a roughness of 

 skin that made it resemble a laboring woman's. The 

 prevailing pose of her features was thoughtful, at times 

 almost .stern, yet once in a long while the lines of her 

 mouth would curve, her cheek slightly dimple, and her 

 eye would flash out a look of joy, recognition, and 

 sympathy, the more gentle for being rare. So, at the 

 close of a murky day, the western sky flashes out the 

 sunshine of the morrow, and darkens again into twi- 

 light. 



She had received the ordinary course of education as 

 practised among American girls. A little geography, a 

 little history, a little of the natural sciences, a little of 

 two or three modern languages, and a little of two or 



