the Stars and Stripes floating from the log
bastion of Fort Finney. And below the fort, on the gentle sunny slope to
the river's brink, was spread the green garden of the garrison, with its
sprouting vegetables and fruit trees blooming pink and white.

We were greeted by a company of buff and blue officers at the landing,
and I was bidden to breakfast at their mess, Captain Wendell promising to
take me over to Louisville afterwards. He had business in the town, and
about eight of the clock we crossed the wide river in one of the barges
of the fort and made fast at the landing in the Bear Grass. But no
sooner had we entered the town than we met a number of country people on
horseback, with their wives and daughters--ay, and sweethearts--perched
up behind them: the men mostly in butternut linsey hunting shirts and
trousers, slouch hats, and red handkerchiefs stuck into their bosoms; the
women marvellously pretty and fresh in stiff cotton gowns and Quaker
hats, and some in crimped caps with ribbons neatly tied under the chin.
Before Mr. Easton's tavern Joe Handy, the fiddler, was reeling off a few
bars of "Hey, Betty Martin" to the familiar crowd of loungers under the
big poplar.

"It's Davy Ritchie!" shouted Joe, breaking off in the middle of the tune;
"welcome home, Davy. Ye're jest in time for the barbecue on the island."

"And Cap Wendell! Howdy, Cap!" drawled another, a huge, long-haired,
sallow, dirty fellow. But the Captain only glared.

"Damn him!" he said, after I had spoken to Joe and we had passed on, "HE
ought to be barbecued; he nearly bit off Ensign Barry's nose a couple of
months ago. Barry tried to stop the beast in a gouging fight."

The bright morning, the shady streets, the homelike frame and log houses,
the old-time fragrant odor of cornpone wafted out of the open doorways,
the warm greetings,--all made me happy to be back again. Mr. Crede
rushed out and escorted us into his cool store, and while he waited on
his country customers bade his negro brew a bowl of toddy, at the mention
of which Mr. Bill Whalen, chief habitue, roused himself from a stupor on
a tobacco barrel. Presently the customers, having indulged in the toddy,
departed for the barbecue, the Captain went to the fort, and Mr. Crede
and myself were left alone to talk over the business which had sent me to
Philadelphia.

At four o'clock, having finished my report and dined with my client, I
set out for Clarksville, for Mr. Crede had told