Sfortunate you had the drum, Davy," he said gravely, "'rwe'd had no
procession."

"It is fortunate I have it now," I answered, looking ruefully at the
battered rim where Nick had missed the skin in his ardor.

"Davy," said he, "funny thing--I didn't know you wash a Jacobite. Sh'ou
hear," he added relevantly, "th' Andy Jackson was married?"

"No," I answered, having no great interest in Mr. Jackson. "Where have
you been seeing him again?"

"Nashville on Cumberland. Jackson'sh county sholicitor,--devil of a
man. I'll tell you, Davy," he continued, laying an uncertain hand on
my shoulder and speaking with great earnestness, "I had Chicashaw
horse--Jackson'd Virginia thoroughbred--had a race--'n' Jackson wanted
to shoot me 'n' I wanted to shoot Jackson. 'N' then we all went to the
Red Heifer--"

"What the deuce is the Red Heifer?" I asked.

"'N'dishtillery over a shpring, 'n' they blow a horn when the liquor
runsh. 'N' then we had supper in Major Lewish's tavern. Major Lewis came
in with roast pig on platter. You know roast pig, Davy?... 'N' Jackson
pulls out's hunting knife n'waves it very mashestic.... You know how
mashestic Jackson is when he--wantshtobe?" He let go my shoulder,
brushed back his hair in a fiery manner, and, seizing a knife which
unhappily lay on the table, gave me a graphic illustration of Mr.
Jackson about to carve the pig, I retreating, and he coming on. "N' when
he stuck the pig, Davy,--"

He poised the knife for an instant in the air, and then, before I could
interpose, he brought it down deftly through the head of my precious
drum, and such a frightful, agonized squeal filled the room that even I
shivered involuntarily, and for an instant I had a vivid vision of a pig
struggling in the hands of a butcher. I laughed in spite of myself. But
Nick regarded me soberly.

"Funny thing, Davy," he said, "they all left the room." For a moment
he appeared to be ruminating on this singular phenomenon. Then he
continued: "'N' Jackson was back firsht, 'n' he was damned impolite....
'n' he shook his fist in my face" (here Nick illustrated Mr. Jackson's
gesture), "'n' he said, 'Great God, sir, y' have a fine talent but if
y' ever do that again, I'll--I'll kill you.'... That'sh what he said,
Davy."

"How long have you been in Nashville, Nick?" I asked.

"A year," he said, "lookin' after property I won rattle-an'-shnap--you
remember?"

"And why didn't you let me know you were in Nashville?" I asked, tho