[Illustration:  THE BATTLE OF BON HOMME RICHARD AND THE SERAPIS.]

[Illustration:  COOPER’S DIAGRAM OF THE BATTLE OF “BON HOMME RICHARD” AND THE “SERAPIS.”]

Of John Paul Jones himself Cooper wrote: 

“In battle, Paul Jones was brave; in enterprise, hardy and original; in victory, mild and generous; in motives, much disposed to disinterestedness, though ambitious of renown and covetous of distinction; in pecuniary relations, liberal; in his affections, natural and sincere; and in his temper, except in those cases which assailed his reputation, just and forgiving.”

Fenimore Cooper was a veritable pioneer in spirit.  He delighted in the details of American “clearing,”—­from the first opening of the forest to sunlight, by the felling of trees and stump-extractor, to the neat drain and finished stonewall.  On the mountain slope of Otsego’s shore, and less than two miles from Cooperstown, lay his small farm belted with woodland, from which he had filched it in true pioneer fashion.  Concerning Cooper’s “costly contest with the soil,” Mr. Keese tells us:  “The inspiring beauty of its commanding views caught Cooper’s fancy for buying it far more than any meager money returns its two hundred acres could promise.”

[Illustration:  STUMP EXTRACTOR.]

After ten years of devoted care the author is on record as saying with some humor:  “for this year the farm would actually pay expenses.”  But full returns came in charming views over field, wood, and lake, where his fancy built “Muskrat Castle” and the “Ark of Floating Tom.”  Besides, its pork and butter were the sweetest, its eggs the whitest and freshest; its new peas and green corn “fit for the pot” were the first in the country.  When the morning writing hours were over at the Hall, it was to the Chalet, as he called this farm, that he drove, to look after his horses, cows, pigs, and chickens.

[Illustration:  THE CHALET FARM.]

The dumb creatures soon learned to know and love him.  They would gather about him and frequently follow him “in a mixed procession often not a little comical.  He had a most kindly feeling for all domestic animals,” and “was partial to cats as well as dogs; the pet half-breed Angora often perched on his shoulders while he sat writing in the library.”  Then there were the workmen to direct, for whom he always had a kindly word.  One of these said:  “We never had to call on him a second time for a bill; he brought us the check.  When I knocked at his library door it was surprising how quickly I heard the energetic ‘Come in.’  When I met him in the street in winter he often said:  ’Well, Thomas, what are you driving at?’ If work was dull he would try to think of something to set me about.”  Of Cooper’s activity was added:  “When the masons were repairing his home, in 1839, he, at fifty, and then quite stout, went up their steep, narrow ladder to the topmost scaffold on the gable end and walked the ridge of the house when the chimney