the other rooms were clothed in the “rag” carpeting of the country.  Hawkins put up the first “paling” fence that had ever adorned the village; and he did not stop there, but whitewashed it.  His oil-cloth window-curtains had noble pictures on them of castles such as had never been seen anywhere in the world but on window-curtains.  Hawkins enjoyed the admiration these prodigies compelled, but he always smiled to think how poor and, cheap they were, compared to what the Hawkins mansion would display in a future day after the Tennessee Land should have borne its minted fruit.  Even Washington observed, once, that when the Tennessee Land was sold he would have a “store” carpet in his and Clay’s room like the one in the parlor.  This pleased Hawkins, but it troubled his wife.  It did not seem wise, to her, to put one’s entire earthly trust in the Tennessee Land and never think of doing any work.

Hawkins took a weekly Philadelphia newspaper and a semi-weekly St. Louis journal—­almost the only papers that came to the village, though Godey’s Lady’s Book found a good market there and was regarded as the perfection of polite literature by some of the ablest critics in the place.  Perhaps it is only fair to explain that we are writing of a by gone age—­some twenty or thirty years ago.  In the two newspapers referred to lay the secret of Hawkins’s growing prosperity.  They kept him informed of the condition of the crops south and east, and thus he knew which articles were likely to be in demand and which articles were likely to be unsalable, weeks and even months in advance of the simple folk about him.  As the months went by he came to be regarded as a wonderfully lucky man.  It did not occur to the citizens that brains were at the bottom of his luck.

His title of “Squire” came into vogue again, but only for a season; for, as his wealth and popularity augmented, that title, by imperceptible stages, grew up into “Judge;” indeed’ it bade fair to swell into “General” bye and bye.  All strangers of consequence who visited the village gravitated to the Hawkins Mansion and became guests of the “Judge.”

Hawkins had learned to like the people of his section very much.  They were uncouth and not cultivated, and not particularly industrious; but they were honest and straightforward, and their virtuous ways commanded respect.  Their patriotism was strong, their pride in the flag was of the old fashioned pattern, their love of country amounted to idolatry.  Whoever dragged the national honor in the dirt won their deathless hatred.  They still cursed Benedict Arnold as if he were a personal friend who had broken faith—­but a week gone by.

CHAPTER VI.

We skip ten years and this history finds certain changes to record.

Judge Hawkins and Col.  Sellers have made and lost two or three moderate fortunes in the meantime and are now pinched by poverty.  Sellers has two pairs of twins and four extras.  In Hawkins’s family are six children of his own and two adopted ones.  From time to time, as fortune smiled, the elder children got the benefit of it, spending the lucky seasons at excellent schools in St. Louis and the unlucky ones at home in the chafing discomfort of straightened circumstances.