years, and Jackson,
under the impression that the Legislature had given the divorce, married
Rachel Robards at Natchez in August, 1791.

"Two years later, the skunk slips into Court and gets his divorce!

"As quick as Old Hickory heard this, he married her over again. There
was a mighty hullabaloo kicked up about it by the politicians. They
tried to run Jackson out of the country--the little pups who were afraid
of him. He challenged the leader of this pack of hounds, and shot him
dead--"

"Served him right, too," broke in the Tennesseean, removing his pipe,
with a nod of his shaggy head.

"But it don't help him on the way to Washington!" The Major grunted,
suddenly rising and dismissing the subject for the night.

The Boy's curiosity was kindled to see the great man whose name had
filled the world.

The distance to Nashville was quickly covered. The Major pressed
straight through the town without pause and drew rein at the General's
gate.

The welcome they received from their distinguished host was so simple,
so genuine, so real, the Boy's heart went out in loyal admiration.

The house was a big rambling structure of logs, in front of which stood
a stately grove of magnificent forest trees. Behind it stretched the
grain and cotton fields.

Nothing could surpass the unaffected and perfect courtesy with which the
General welcomed his guests. The tall, stately figure, moving with the
unconscious grace of perfect manhood, needed no rules of a dancing
master for his guidance. He had sprung from the common people, but he
was a born leader and ruler of men.

The Boy listened with keen ears to hear him rip out one of those
terrible oaths of which so much had been said. His speech was gentle and
kind, and he asked a blessing at every meal exactly as his own quiet,
dignified father at home. In all the three weeks they remained his
guests not an oath or an ugly word fell from his lips. The Boy wondered
how people could tell such lies.

The General liked boys, too. It was easy to see that. He gave hours of
his time to the games and sports of his adopted son, Andrew Jackson,
Jr., and his two little guests. He got up contests of all sorts. They
raced their ponies. They ran and jumped. They played marbles. They
followed the hounds. And always with them as friend and counselor, the
General, gentle, kind, considerate. The only thing he prohibited was
wrestling.

"No, boys," he said with a frown. "That's not a good sport