nd
taxes--Probable effect of this state of things on Boone's
mind--Signs of movement.

When Daniel Boone was still a youth, his father emigrated to North
Carolina. The precise date of this removal of the family residence is
not known. Mr. Peck, an excellent authority, says it took place when
Daniel was about eighteen years old. This would make it about the year
1752.

The new residence of Squire Boone, Daniel's father, was near Holman's
Ford, on the Yadkin River, about eight miles from Wilkesboro'. The fact
of the great backwoodsman having passed many years of his life there
is still remembered with pride by the inhabitants of that region. The
capital of Watauga County, which was formed in 1849, is named Boone, in
honor of Daniel Boone. The historian of North Carolina[6] is disposed
to claim him as a son of the State. He says: "In North Carolina Daniel
Boone was reared. Here his youthful days were spent; and here that bold
spirit was trained, which so fearlessly encountered the perils through
which he passed in after life. His fame is part of her property, and she
has inscribed his name on a town in the region where his youth was
spent."

"The character of Boone is so peculiar," says Mr. Wheeler, "that it
marks the age in which he lived; and his name is celebrated in the
verses of the immortal Byron:"

"Of all men--
Who passes for in life and death most lucky,
Of the great names which in our faces stare,
Is Daniel Boone, backwoodsman of Kentucky."

* * * * *

"Crime came not near him--she is not the child
Of Solitude. Health shrank not from him, for
Her home is in the rarely-trodden wild."

* * * * *

"And tall and strong and swift of foot are they,
Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions,
Because their thoughts had never been the prey
Of care or gain; the green woods were their portions:
No sinking spirits told them they grew gray,
No fashions made them apes of her distortions.
Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles,
Though very true, were not yet used for trifles."

"Motion was in their days, rest in their slumbers,
And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil.
Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers;
Corruption could not make their hearts her soil;
The lust which stings, the splendor which encumbers,
With the free foresters divid