a good-looking Federalist like me, instead
of throwing herself away on a near-sighted United Irishman with silver
shoe-buckles?"

II. A NOTED CHARACTER ARRIVES IN PITTSBURG.

On the last day of April, 1805, more than the usual number of guests
crowded the bar-room or lounged about the open door of the Green Tree,
a popular tavern on the bank of the Monongahela, in Pittsburg. The
proprietor had found difficulty in providing refreshment for the swarm
of hungry mechanics, farmers and boatmen who elbowed their way to a
seat at his famed dining-table. To the clatter of dishes was added the
clamor of voices making demands upon the decanters, which yielded an
inexhaustible supply of rum, whiskey and peach brandy.

In the throng of bar-room loafers was a swarthy boatman, wearing a
leathern waistcoat, who, on being jostled by a stalwart roysterer
carrying a long rifle, poured out curses and slang epithets, swearing
he could whip any man in the tavern or in the town. The challenge was
no sooner uttered than the offender for whom it was meant called out
to the landlord:

"Here, Billy, hold my shooter a minute until I pitch this Louisiana
rat into the river."

"Don't mind him, Mike; he's drunk."

"Drunk or sober," blustered the quarrelsome boatman, "I swear I can
whip the best man in Pittsburg or in Pennsylvania."

This sweeping defiance elicited laughter and derision.

"Give him the heft of your fist, Mike!" cried one.

"Bruise the snout of the Mississippi alligator!"

Thus incited, Mike Fink, the recognized champion of Pittsburg,
disposed of his rifle, doubled up his fists, and stood ready for
assault or defence.

"Fair fight or rough and tumble?" said he, appealing to the crowd.

"Fair fight," growled the boatman and tossed a fiery dram down his
gullet. But fair fight in the accepted sense of the phrase was
farthest from his intention. Quick as a flash, he drew from his belt a
dirk, and would have stabbed his antagonist, had not a bystander
seized his uplifted arm, while another wrenched the weapon from his
grasp. The ruffian's comrades hurried their dangerous leader from the
inn, and guided his steps to the river and aboard a large new flatboat
recently launched.

A flourish of bugle notes and the noise of wheels announced the
arrival of the mail-coach from the East. Everybody went out to hail
the lumbering vehicle, which, drawn by four horses, came bowling down
the road in a dust-cloud of glory. The d