ller of all distinctions, to whom the
prayers and tears of husbands, and even of helpless infancy, are
addressed in vain, entered my humble cottage, and tore from my children
an affectionate, good mother, and from me a tender and loving wife. It
is a scene long gone by, and one which it would be supposed I had
almost forgotten. Yet when I turn my memory back upon it, it seems but
as the work of yesterday.

"It was the doing of the Almighty, whose ways are always right, though
we sometimes think they fall heavily on us. And as painful as even yet
is the remembrance of her sufferings, and the loss sustained by my
little children and myself, yet I have no wish to lift up the voice of
complaint. I was left with three children. The two eldest were sons,
the youngest a daughter, and at that time a mere infant. It appeared to
me, at that moment, that my situation was the worst in the world.

"I couldn't bear the thought of scattering my children; and so I got my
youngest brother, who was also married, and his family, to live with
me. They took as good care of my children as they well could; but yet
it wasn't all like the care of a mother. And though their company was
to me, in every respect, like that of a brother and sister, yet it fell
far short of being like that of a wife. So I came to the conclusion
that it wouldn't do, but that I must have another wife."

One sees strikingly, in the above quotation, the softening effect of
affliction on the human heart There was a widow in the neighborhood, a
very worthy woman, who had lost her husband in the war. She had two
children, a son and a daughter, both quite young. She owned a snug
little farm, and being a very capable woman, was getting along quite
comfortably. Crockett decided that he should make a good step-father to
her children, and she a good step-mother for his. The courtship was in
accordance with the most approved style of country love-making. It
proved to be a congenial marriage. The two families came very
harmoniously together, and in their lowly hut enjoyed peace and
contentment such as frequently is not found in more ambitious homes.

But the wandering propensity was inherent in the very nature of
Crockett. He soon tired of the monotony of a farmer's life, and longed
for change. A few months after his marriage he set out, with three of
his neighbors, all well mounted, on an exploring tour into Central
Alabama, hoping to find new homes there. Taking a southerly c