have guessed Michigan and Indiana and Mississippi--that was
where Fort Adams is--they make twenty. But where are your
other fourteen? You have not cut up any of the old ones, I
hope?"

Well, that was not a bad text, and I told him the names in
as good order as I could, and he bade me take down his
beautiful map and draw them in as I best could with my
pencil. He was wild with delight about Texas, told me how
his cousin died there; he had marked a gold cross near where
he supposed his grave was; and he had guessed at Texas. Then
he was delighted as he saw California and Oregon,--that, he
said, he had suspected partly, because he had never been
permitted to land on that shore, though the ships were there
so much. "And the men," said he, laughing, "brought off a
good deal beside furs." Then he went back--heavens, how
far!--to ask about the _Chesapeake_, and what was done to
Barron for surrendering her to the _Leopard_, and whether
Burr ever tried again--and he ground his teeth with the only
passion he showed. But in a moment that was over, and he
said, "God forgive me, for I am sure I forgive him." Then he
asked about the old war--told me the true story of his
serving the gun the day we took the _Java_--asked about dear
old David Porter, as he called him. Then he settled down
more quietly, and very happily, to hear me tell in an hour
the history of fifty years.

How I wished it had been somebody who knew something! But I
did as well as I could. I told him of the English war. I
told him about Fulton and the steamboat beginning. I told
him about old Scott, and Jackson; told him all I could think
of about the Mississippi, and New Orleans, and Texas, and
his own old Kentucky. And do you think, he asked who was in
command of the "Legion of the West." I told him it was a
very gallant officer named Grant, and that, by our last
news, he was about to establish his headquarters at
Vicksburg. Then, "Where was Vicksburg?" I worked that out on
the map; it was about a hundred miles, more or less, above
his old Fort Adams and I thought Fort Adams must be a ruin
now. "It must be at old Vick's plantation, at Walnut Hills,"
said he: "well, that is a change!"

I tell you, Ingham, it was a hard thing to condense the
history of half a ce