. And though his teeth
were singularly good, those same ungracious ones might have hinted that
they were too good to be true; or rather, were not so good as they might
be; since the best false teeth are those made with at least two or three
blemishes, the more to look like life. But fortunately for better
constructions, no such critics had the stranger now in eye; only the
cosmopolitan, who, after, in the first place, acknowledging his advances
with a mute salute--in which acknowledgment, if there seemed less of
spirit than in his way of accosting the Missourian, it was probably
because of the saddening sequel of that late interview--thus now
replied: "Colonel John Moredock," repeating the words abstractedly;
"that surname recalls reminiscences. Pray," with enlivened air, "was he
anyway connected with the Moredocks of Moredock Hall, Northamptonshire,
England?"

"I know no more of the Moredocks of Moredock Hall than of the Burdocks
of Burdock Hut," returned the other, with the air somehow of one whose
fortunes had been of his own making; "all I know is, that the late
Colonel John Moredock was a famous one in his time; eye like Lochiel's;
finger like a trigger; nerve like a catamount's; and with but two little
oddities--seldom stirred without his rifle, and hated Indians like
snakes."

"Your Moredock, then, would seem a Moredock of Misanthrope Hall--the
Woods. No very sleek creature, the colonel, I fancy."

"Sleek or not, he was no uncombed one, but silky bearded and curly
headed, and to all but Indians juicy as a peach. But Indians--how the
late Colonel John Moredock, Indian-hater of Illinois, did hate Indians,
to be sure!"

"Never heard of such a thing. Hate Indians? Why should he or anybody
else hate Indians? _I_ admire Indians. Indians I have always heard to be
one of the finest of the primitive races, possessed of many heroic
virtues. Some noble women, too. When I think of Pocahontas, I am ready
to love Indians. Then there's Massasoit, and Philip of Mount Hope, and
Tecumseh, and Red-Jacket, and Logan--all heroes; and there's the Five
Nations, and Araucanians--federations and communities of heroes. God
bless me; hate Indians? Surely the late Colonel John Moredock must have
wandered in his mind."

"Wandered in the woods considerably, but never wandered elsewhere, that
I ever heard."

"Are you in earnest? Was there ever one who so made it his particular
mission to hate Indians that, to designate him, a special w