where there were several
brothers and sisters, with a gentleman father of no little pride,
and a lady mother of equal pride and great beauty.

With much care for detail, Jim drew a picture of the big mansion
with its wide lawns, flower gardens and tree bordered walks; with
its wealth of culture, its servants, and distinguished guests;
for, said he, "When you get to be a fine lady, you ought to know
that you got as good blood as the best of the thorough-breds." And
Sammy, interrupting his speech with a kiss, bade him go on with
his story.

Then he told how the one black sheep of that proud southern flock
had been cast forth from the beautiful home while still hardly
grown; and how, with his horse, gun and violin, the wanderer had
come into the heart of the Ozark wilderness, when the print of
moccasin feet was still warm on the Old Trail. Jim sketched
broadly here, and for some reason did not fully explain the cause
of his banishment; neither did he comment in any way upon its
justice or injustice.

Time passed, and a strong, clear-eyed, clean-limbed, deep-bosomed
mountain lass, with all the mastering passion of her kind, mated
the free, half wild, young hunter; and they settled in the cabin
by the spring on the southern slope of Dewey. Then the little one
came, and in her veins there was mingled the blue blood of the
proud southerners and the warm red life of her wilderness mother.

Again Jim's story grew rich in detail. Holding his daughter at
arm's length, and looking at her through half-closed eyes, he
said, "You're like her, honey; you're mighty like her; same eyes,
same hair, same mouth, same build, same way of movin', strong, but
smooth and free like. She could run clean to the top of Dewey, or
sit a horse all day. Do you ever get tired, girl?"

Sammy laughed, and shook her head; "I've run from here to the
signal tree, lots of times, Daddy."

"You're like the old folks, too," mused Jim; "like them in what
you think and say."

"Tell me more," said the girl. "Seems like I remember bein' in a
big wagon, and there was a woman there too; was she my mother?"

Jim nodded, and unconsciously lowered his voice, as he said, "It
was in the old Bald Knobber time. Things happened in them days,
honey. Many's the night I've seen the top of old Dewey yonder
black with men. It was when things was broke up, that--that your
mother and me thought we could do better in Texas; so we went,"
Jim was again sketching broadly.