ons. In the minds of
these young men there was less doubt in regard to the age and quality of
the brandy than there was in regard to the negro trader's birthplace.
Major Frampton might or might not have been born in the Old
Dominion--that was a matter for consideration and inquiry--but there
could be no question as to the mellow pungency of the peach-brandy.

In his own estimation, Major Frampton was one of the most accomplished
of men. He had summered at the Virginia Springs; he had been to
Philadelphia, to Washington, to Richmond, to Lynchburg, and to
Charleston, and had accumulated a great deal of experience which he
found useful. Hillsborough was hid in the woods of Middle Georgia, and
its general aspect of innocence impressed him. He looked on the young
men who had shown their readiness to test his peach-brandy as overgrown
country boys who needed to be introduced to some of the arts and
sciences he had at his command. Thereupon the major pitched his tents,
figuratively speaking, and became, for the time being, a part and parcel
of the innocence that characterized Hillsborough. A wiser man would
doubtless have made the same mistake.

The little village possessed advantages that seemed to be providentially
arranged to fit the various enterprises that Major Frampton had in view.
There was the auction block in front of the stuccoed court-house, if he
desired to dispose of a few of his negroes; there was a quarter-track,
laid out to his hand and in excellent order, if he chose to enjoy the
pleasures of horse-racing; there were secluded pine thickets within easy
reach, if he desired to indulge in the exciting pastime of
cock-fighting; and variously lonely and unoccupied rooms in the second
story of the tavern, if he cared to challenge the chances of dice or
cards.

Major Frampton tried them all with varying luck, until he began his
famous game of poker with Judge Alfred Wellington, a stately gentleman
with a flowing white beard and mild blue eyes that gave him the
appearance of a benevolent patriarch. The history of the game in which
Major Frampton and Judge Alfred Wellington took part is something more
than a tradition in Hillsborough, for there are still living three or
four men who sat around the table and watched its progress. It is said
that at various stages of the game Major Frampton would destroy the
cards with which they were playing, and send for a new pack, but the
result was always the same. The mild blue