he room, smoking
their pipes, and telling their marvellous stories. David, during his
absence of two years, had grown, and changed considerably in personal
appearance. None of the family recognized him. They generally supposed,
as he had been absent so long, that he was dead.

David inquired if he could remain all night. Being answered in the
affirmative, he took a seat in a corner and remained perfectly silent,
gazing upon the familiar scene, and watching the movements of his
father, mother, and sisters. At length supper was ready, and all took
seats at the table. As David came more into the light, one of his
sisters, observing him, was struck with his resemblance to her lost
brother. Fixing her eyes upon him, she, in a moment, rushed forward and
threw her arms around his neck, exclaiming, "Here is my brother David."

Quite a scene ensued. The returning prodigal was received with as much
affection as could be expected in a family with such uncultivated
hearts and such unrefined habits as were found in the cabin of John
Crockett. Even the stern old man forgot his hickory switch, and David,
much to his relief, found that he should escape the long-dreaded
whipping. Many years after this, when David Crockett, to his own
surprise, and that of the whole nation, found himself elevated to the
position of one of our national legislators, he wrote:

"But it will be a source of astonishment to many, who reflect that I am
now a member of the American Congress, the most enlightened body of men
in the world, that, at so advanced an age, the age of fifteen, I did
not know the first letter in the book."

By the laws and customs of our land, David was bound to obey his father
and work for him until he was twenty-one years of age. Until that time,
whatever wages he might earn belonged to his father. It is often an act
of great generosity for a hard-working farmer to release a stout lad of
eighteen or nineteen from this obligation, and "to give him," as it is
phrased, "his time."

John Crockett owed a neighbor, Abraham Wilson, thirty-six dollars. He
told David that if he would work for Mr. Wilson until his wages paid
that sum, he would then release him from all his obligations to his
father, and his son might go free. It was a shrewd bargain for the old
man, for he had already learned that David was abundantly capable of
taking care of himself, and that he would come and go when and where he
pleased.

The boy, weary of his wanderi