THE STILL HUNT. 137 



her sicli like stuff? It's natural enougli that I should 

 watch fur her. Wall — ^wall — thar are piles o' painters in 

 this State purty as this one, but there aint no woman 

 that is as handsome as Lou Jackson. That's so ?" 



"Do you know anything about the duel that Col. 

 Jackson fought ?" 



" I've heern tell that it was a hard go ; they fired one 

 at the t'other till the Colonel bored his man, and then 

 he larnt it was all a mistake, and they needn't have fit at 

 all ; but who the man was, or what they fit about, I don't 

 know. Whar's the terbacker ?" 



I passed the pouch of squirrel-skin over to the hunter, 

 and filling his pipe again, he relapsed into a musmg 

 silence, while I watched the lengthening shadows, and 

 thought over the strange life at Far Away, the moody, 

 reckless, hearty, proud planter, and the gentle though 

 strange tastes of the daughter. What a wasting, sensi- 

 tive, weary heart he seemed to carry, joyous only by. 

 turns, and then boisterously gay ! What a cheering 

 controlling presence hers, so earnest and frank, yet all 

 the while so lively and self-willed ! And the house itself 

 was a perfect mixture of roughness and grace, the life 

 within contrasting with its appearance, as did the fancy 

 of its name with the rudeness of its exterior. No news of 

 the world, no society, no lover, no music, the literature 

 of the most meagre kind, and yet the whole family 

 instinct was graceful and thoughtful, and like to no 

 western farm that ever yet was seen. 



As I thus ran on, I noticed the sun was low in the west. 



