THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 A TiNNESSEE JUDGE
 
 By Opie Read: 
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 THE COLOSSUS 
 A KENTUCKY COLONEL 
 EMMETT BONLORE 
 LEN GANSETT 
 SELECTED STORIES 
 
 LAIRD & LEE, Publishers 
 Chicago
 
 A 
 
 TENNESSEE 
 JUDGE 
 
 BY 
 
 OPIE RAD 
 
 Author of "A KENTUCKY COLONEL." "THE COLOSSUS," "EMMETT BONLORE, 
 
 (JAXSETT," "SELECTED STORIES," etc. 
 
 CHICAGO 
 LAIRD & LEE, PUBLISHERS
 
 ENTERED 
 
 According to Act of Congress in the year eighteen 
 hundred and ninety three, by 
 
 OPIE READ 
 
 In the office of the "Librarian of Congress 
 at Washington. 
 
 (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED)
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 m A suggestion of coming baldness lay on the top 
 aj of Bob Hawley's head; and an old physician who 
 > happened to have much hair on his own cranium 
 B* and who therefore regarded the loss of nature's 
 ^ top-dressing as a sure sign of a weakness some 
 where in the constitution, advised the young man 
 ^ to throw over the cares of nerve-strung speculation 
 and to rest until he should become worn out with 
 inactivity. Hawley was tall, large, strong; and 
 his movements and his talk were so quick and so 
 3 sudden as to insist that his size had more than 
 exceeded the original design. His eyes were brown 
 a and at times were of a soft light that was not in 
 harmony with his materialistic nose he appeared 
 j to have been built either to fight or to meditate, to 
 commit an impulsive aggression and then to sorrow 
 over it, Years ago his mother wrote hymns for
 
 6 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 a Boston publication, and whatever suggestion of 
 poetry there might have been about him, he surely 
 inherited from her. She was so gentle and so per 
 suasive, a creature, so modeled to assist in the up 
 building of mankind that she was induced, by her 
 sentimental friends, to go West and teach school 
 in the neighborhood of Chicago. Here it was that 
 Sam Hawley met her. At that time Sam Hawley 
 was simply an adventurous spirit, but years later 
 he was looked upon as one of the wise men who 
 had foreseen the great possibilities of Chicago. He 
 was a sort of a pioneer, not to fight Indians and 
 blaze a pathway from one settlement to another, 
 but a commercial missionary, almost fanatical in 
 his determination to convert the devotees of a rude 
 barter to the religion of an extensive trade. He was 
 willful and uncultivated. He knew or supposed 
 that he was of honest parentage, and back of this 
 self-satisfactory condition ancestry held no interest 
 for him. Physically he was attractive, but in other 
 respects he was so ordinary that the method which 
 he must have employed to win the love of the 
 gentle school teacher could not be surmised by his 
 intimates; and a wag sought to put an end to the
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 7 
 
 speculation by saying that he did not win her love 
 at all that he waited for an opportunity and 
 grabbed it from her, and that she being too gentle 
 to protest, left it in his possession. In this asser 
 tion there might have been an atom of truth. He 
 might gruffly have demanded her love and she may 
 have been too timid to refuse him. At any rate 
 she was strongly attached to him not alone by a 
 marriage ceremony which indeed did not necessarily 
 mean a stout tie but by fine threads spun by sym 
 pathy and twisted by affection. At the time of the 
 birth of his son, Sam Hawley was engaged in an 
 uncertain though it happened to be a prosperous 
 business. He speculated in stocks. In fact it was 
 said, and by an envious person, of course, that he 
 was simply the proprietor of a bucket-shop. Later 
 he settled down to the more legitimate trade of 
 buying and selling real estate, though at that time 
 in Chicago it was not easy to determine which 
 estate was real and which was not. 
 
 The desire of Mrs. Hawley's devotional heart 
 was to see her son fitted for one of the learned 
 professions, and naturally the pulpit stood first, 
 but fearing to hope for so much in this world which
 
 8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 maliciously seeks to corode our brightest wishes, 
 she secondarily settled upon the law. But Sam 
 Hawley hoote,d at the pulpit and grunted at the 
 bar. He said that he wanted his son to be a busi 
 ness man. A professional man started out as a 
 suppliant and very often ended as a failure. 
 Preachers were essential, it was true, and the 
 rascality and the stupidity of man had made the 
 lawyer a makeshift if not a necessity; but he did 
 not desire his son to begin life with an apology. 
 He must understand that it was fight from the 
 start. Oh, the preacher and the lawyer were bold 
 enough after a while, but at first they appeared to 
 frame excuses for their existence. He did not 
 object to education. Some of the world's most 
 successful men -had been educated, not as an essen 
 tial, of course, but as a happening. 
 
 In school the boy made smooth and easy prog 
 ress, and by his aptness at figures he delighted his 
 father. The mother insisted upon grammar. To 
 count was rude in comparison with the elegance 
 of speech. Nearly everyone could multiply and 
 divide, but every one could not employ the 
 language of a gentleman- and she did so ardently
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 9 
 
 pray that her son might be a gentleman. Her 
 father and her grandfather were gentlemen. But 
 Hawley said: "Man first and gentleman when you 
 have the time." 
 
 But he yielded to the almost ceaseless entreaty 
 of his wife and agreed that the youngster might be 
 "finished" in college, and to college he went. And 
 here he was drawing credit unto himself while 
 feeding his mother's pride, when the father snatched 
 him off the campus and placed him at a desk in a 
 real estate office. Religion softened the mother's 
 resentment; it taught her that her longing had 
 been prideful and was therefore wicked. But 
 neither the aggressive father nor the gentle mother 
 has much to do with this history; for while yet 
 comparatively a young man, the father, worn out 
 by the friction of intense activity, was laid away 
 in eternity's sub-division; and but a few years had 
 elapsed when the mother had followed him to this 
 one place whose attractions and great advantages 
 are not "bulled" by the real-estate liar. 
 
 Bob Hawley was then twenty-three years old. 
 His father had left a paying business, in somewhat 
 of a tangled condition, but in time it was straight-
 
 IO A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 ened out and so systematized as to be made to 
 yield an income that could be counted upon. But 
 speculation with its impulse soon overruled stale 
 system and came near wiping Hawley's dot off the 
 face of the commercial map. He had many friends 
 particularly among the "plungers" whom his father 
 had accommodated, but they fell away from him 
 about the time the screws were turned on to pain 
 ful and to dangerous tightness; indeed he discovered 
 that an old friend was turning the screws. This 
 friend had an office in La Salle street. Bob called 
 on him one morning, kicked him out of his own 
 office, paid his fine and obtained financial assistance 
 from an old bucket-shop gambler, a comparative 
 stranger but a man who admired nerve. When 
 his business had again been set in good running 
 order his friends, true to the traditions of human 
 nature's short-sighted frailty, called at his office 
 and congratulated him. They were sorry that 
 they had not been able to help him; and he be 
 lieved them for the hair on the top of his head was 
 still thick. Of course he had real friends, as every 
 bright and attractive young fellow must, but it 
 seems that our real friends instead of being able to
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE I I 
 
 help us, are themselves in need of aid. And it is 
 here that Fate indulges her keenest sarcasm. 
 When things or events or whatever these devilish 
 intangibilities may be termed conspire to sour a 
 man, they rarely conspire in vain. And when 
 man, as a pliant agent of this conspiracy leaves his 
 work unfinished, woman has been known to com 
 plete it. A man in whom young Hawley placed a 
 faith almost creed-like in its strength, beat him 
 out of ten thousand dollars; and a smirk young 
 woman with whom he had more or less innocently 
 amused himself, sued him for breach of promise. 
 His literary training had reached its completion 
 when his father snatched him out of Knox College; 
 his Chicago education was progressing rapidly. 
 
 At the time when this history begins and when 
 Hawley was thirty years old to him a long stretch 
 of time full of cunning experience he was rather 
 mistrustful of men and exceeding shy of women. 
 He knew that there were honest men, but it took 
 more than a fawning smile to convince him; and 
 he believed in the virtue and nobility of women 
 that is, of some women but the possibility of a 
 breach of promise suit scared him mightily. He
 
 12 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 lived in the top of a tall building in which he held 
 a third interest; he caught up his breakfast any 
 where; he swallowed his noon-tide snack in a 
 crowded feed-trough, but his dinner at the club 
 was a meal civilized with many dishes and refined 
 with leisure. 
 
 Hawley was at dinner when the doctor told him 
 that he needed to wear himself out with rest. 
 
 "But doing nothing tires me more than the most 
 constant work," Hawley retorted. 
 
 "The sick man's ready excuse," said the doctor; 
 and after a brief silence he added: "Bob, I knew 
 your father he and I came to Chicago about the 
 same time. And I was the first man to notice that 
 he was killing himself. Do you want to know what 
 the first symptom was? Loss of hair. I came 
 near saying premature baldness, but all baldness is 
 premature. A lion doesn't lose his mane; ahorse 
 doesn't lose his hair; then why should a man 
 become bald? We are told that it is a disease of 
 the scalp. But what is a disease of the scalp but 
 a disease of the body? Oh, I know that this 
 theory of mine is laughed at. And just look back 
 over the history of medical discovery and you'll
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 13 
 
 see that nearly all truth at one time or another has 
 served as a laughing stock. Mark what I tell you: 
 When a man finds that he is losing his hair it is 
 time to reduce the amount of his work. By the 
 way, I think I have a good plan for you." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "A trip." 
 
 "What sort of a trip?" 
 
 The doctor took a spoonful of soup, looked up at 
 Bob and said: 
 
 "A wedding trip." 
 
 "Ah, hah? I have heard that a bridal tour is 
 rather a pleasant sort of a journey, but does it 
 occur to you that I have no bride? And a wedding 
 journey without a bride would be rather a one-sided 
 affair, I should think." 
 
 "You must get one. The truth is, Bob, you 
 ought to marry and be more settled." 
 
 "That reminds me of Bates," Hawley replied. 
 "You know him. Well, he married and it served 
 as a settler in his case. Used to be one of the 
 best fellows in the world high-minded, independ 
 ent, paid his share always. Now what is he? His 
 wife, either by gentleness or some other means,
 
 14 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 has hen-pecked him into the belief that he is a long 
 ways her inferior intellectually. She doles out 
 money to him and he is afraid to spend a cent- 
 afraid that she'll call him to account for it. He 
 is expected to be home at a certain time and he's 
 oh the keen jump to get there. Sits up here and 
 watches the clock. He told me the other day with 
 a very weak laugh that he never really needed a 
 watch until after he was married. Says that if he 
 doesn't do exactly as his wife wants him, she cries 
 she has reduced him to slavery with the salt 
 water method. I may be in need of rest, doctor, 
 but I am not in need of marriage. To tell you the 
 truth, I am nervous, and it makes me mad, too 
 big fellow " 
 
 "My dear boy," the doctor interrupted, "that's 
 the point. 'Big fellow"' -he shook his finger at 
 Hawley "big fellow is in danger more than little 
 fellow. We naturally expect a little fellow to 
 exhibit the signs of weakness. It seems to me that 
 if I had plenty of money that I would add to the 
 length of my earthly tenure of office by gratifying 
 some sort of whim; I would travel I would do 
 something rather than to sentence myself to the
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE I 5 
 
 additional worry of trying to get more money. 
 But man hasn't any sense, Bob; that is, man and 
 money together. Poverty is the only really shrewd 
 fellow, the only genuine critic of "life. The rich 
 man is constantly doing something or eternally 
 leaving something undone that this poverty- 
 edged fellow, this sharp wit would never do or 
 leave undone. Ah, but how is it if this fellow who 
 bristles so with sharp points becomes suddenly 
 possessed of money? Does he retain his wit? Is 
 his criticism still sound? No. His wit is gone and 
 his criticism has turned out to be a dust and has 
 blown away. Money coddles him into the belief 
 that a weakness is a strength. In fact, opportunity 
 is all that man needs to become an ass. But I 
 am an ass myself an ass for trying to be a philos 
 opher when I should be a flatterer, a honeyer of 
 people. I go along and tell the truth. I say, 
 'My dear Mrs. Weaktee, there is nothing the 
 matter with you; stop sitting up so late and you'll 
 be all right.' What does she do? She dismisses 
 me and sends for Dr. Squirt. He gives her sweet 
 stuff and is a great man he is a modern physician; 
 I am an old fogy. But what were we talking
 
 T 6 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 about? Yes, about you. I would like to know 
 that you are something more than a mere money 
 getter. My home would have added to the assets 
 of the sheriff, years ago, if it hadn't been for your 
 father. Now, I would like to save you from adding 
 to the assets of the undertaker. But I don't want 
 to bore you." 
 
 "Doctor," and the young man laughed, "you talk 
 as though I have a long handled rake stuck into a 
 mint and stood there, drawing out the coin. I 
 haven't so much money; I haven't so shrewd a 
 faculty for making investments. But I'll tell you 
 what I have: I have a grain of that admirable 
 quality which you say the poverty-stricken wit 
 possesses. That is, I have a whim and I'm going 
 to gratify it. I am going to buy an old farm down 
 in Tennessee and breed fine stock. One of the 
 best places in that state is for sale. Years ago it 
 had a wide-spread reputation. Men came from 
 England to attend the sales there. Its importance 
 went down with the war and has never come up 
 again. I haven't seen it but a friend of mine has 
 and he is charmed with it. My business is now in 
 such shape that I can close it, and next week I
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE I? 
 
 shall start for Tennessee. Think of it an old 
 estate covered with blue-grass, with the tradition 
 of many a famous race-horse back of it; and in the 
 mind of many an old man the memory of great 
 gatherings there in the days when the South had 
 an aristocracy. To think of it is almost enough to 
 make a poet of a plodder. The climate is delight 
 ful; and my friend, who is something of a poet, 
 most happily described it when he said that there 
 I would find no lagging winter and no wajiton 
 spring." 
 
 "Your friend steals most happily from Shake 
 speare," said the doctor. 
 
 "Does he? Well, he steals wisely at any rate." 
 
 "The man that is found out doesn't steal wisely," 
 the doctor declared. "But go ahead with your 
 pastoral enthusiasm," he added. 
 
 "You hit a man's enthusiasm on the head with 
 an interruption and then expect him to revive it 
 when you tell him that he is in league with a thief. 
 Seriously, however, I'm going down to look at the 
 place and if the agent hasn't pushed the price up 
 into the clouds I'll buy it." 
 
 "Don't mar your bright landscape by introducing
 
 !8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 clouds, Bob. . You're right," he quickly continued, 
 glancing at the young man. "Buy the place with 
 its traditions and its blue grass; put yourself in 
 touch with your neighbors; share their sympathies 
 and claim a part of their prejudices; turn to the 
 story supplement of the newspaper and leave 
 market quotations alone; black-out the annoyances 
 of late years so that you may not see them when 
 you look back; believe that men are honest but 
 don.'t give them much of a chance to cheat you, 
 do this and you'll be happy. I was going to say 
 that you would be a great man, but being great 
 would alloy your contentment. Did you ever hear 
 anyone call me a crank?" he broke off. "I warrant 
 you have; and let me say right here that the best 
 advice is the advice given by a crank. And why ? 
 Because it is the most adventurous advice. Well- 
 balanced men give commonplace advice; a crank 
 is inventive. Never mind, Bob, I'll take the 
 checks. You paid yesterday. No? All right. 
 Have your own hard-headed way." 
 
 As they were getting into the elevator, two men 
 got out. One of them, speaking in a low tone, 
 asked: "Who is that gray-haired old man?"
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 1 9 
 
 "Dr. Ford, the crank," the other man answered. 
 
 Hawley and the doctor halted for a moment 
 under the arch of the door- way down stairs. "I may 
 not see you again for some time," said Hawley, 
 holding out his hand. 
 
 "Are you really in earnest?" the physician asked, 
 shaking hands with him. 
 
 "About going to Tennessee? Yes; it's not 
 central Africa. Why shouldn't I be in earnest? 
 Give me advice and then be surprised that I should 
 follow it ?" 
 
 "Well, you see, Bob, a wise man is always a 
 little afraid that his friend may follow his advice. 
 But really I am glad you're going. Your way 
 here is dangerous and your sojourn there will save 
 you. Let me hear from you."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was early on a morning in July when Hawley 
 got off a train at Gallatin, Tennessee. The old 
 town was still asleep. A star was fading in the 
 west. The train rushed on and the silence that 
 had been driven away, crept back slowly from the 
 town. There were but few persons on the platform. 
 One of them was rather an old man, dressed in 
 gray tweed. He looked at Hawley and Hawley 
 looked at him. The agent and the would-be pur 
 chaser had met. The agent, after introducing 
 himself, began to apologize for the slowness of his 
 town. He seemed to feel that the man from 
 Chicago was necessarily grieved not to find a 
 whirling turmoil. And his countenance brightened 
 when Hawley assured him that the town was fast 
 enough. He had left his horse and buck-board at 
 a livery stable, not feeling sure that his visitor 
 would come, and he would fetch it immediately. He 
 
 hastened away and Hawley walked up and down 
 
 20
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 21 
 
 the platform. Signs that the place was slowly 
 awaking to its regular course of occupation began 
 to appear. An old sow crossed the railway track 
 and was pounced upon by a dog; a sprinkling cart, 
 driven by an old negro, turned into the street; a 
 woman opened a door not far away and kicked a 
 cat into the yard; the station agent's underling 
 began to sprinkle his floor; a horse was heard 
 galloping in the distance; the town was awake. 
 
 The tweed-dressed man arrived with his buck- 
 board. Hawley got on and was driven away. 
 
 Both date and tradition make Gallatin a very 
 old town. But it has not the appearance of dilap 
 idation; it is solid and venerable, and with a strong 
 resolve it has held its three thousand inhabitants 
 during many years. In the center of the town is 
 a square and in the center of the square is the 
 court-house. It underwent material repairs in 
 1865 and since that time has been pointed at with 
 pride. Before the war this town was the seat of a 
 proud aristocracy and was consequently a plant- 
 bed of secession; but long after one of the finest 
 regiments that ever marched on the face of the 
 earth had left the neighborhood, an old Union flag
 
 22 
 
 floated from a tall pole near the railway station. 
 No hand was rebellious enough to pull it down 
 and a sorrowful yet a tender memory it was left 
 there until a man who had come from New England 
 to engage in the traffic of human flesh climbed the 
 pole and tore it from its fastening. 
 
 Turn-pikes, coming from every directon, center 
 here. The town is built where the ground is lifted 
 into a graceful eminence and about it the green 
 country lies in gentle undulation. Trouble and 
 even despair might have been hidden within these 
 old walls, but after the din of Chicago how peace 
 ful was the scene. There was not a real estate 
 advertisement within sight ; there was no smooth 
 suburban lawn but the long grass in the yards 
 was tangled like a horse's mane witch-woven. 
 Why had not some one whose heart was beyond 
 the reach of the world's eager greed brought forth 
 a poem in this place of true repose a poem to 
 water the hard eye of man? 
 
 Again the agent apologized for the slowness of 
 his town. If the people had taken his advice 
 years ago the place would have had a "boom." 
 He had begged them to offer inducements to man-
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2$ 
 
 ufacturers; he had urged them to raise money 
 enough to advertise their wonderful resources so 
 that the world might be induced to contribute to 
 their prosperity, but his words, so ready to sprout, 
 found no soil in which to take root. Hawley 
 inquired as to what these wonderful resources con 
 sisted of, and the agent arose, holding to the dash 
 board to keep from tumbling out, and waved his 
 hand at the surrounding universe. Then he sat 
 down and sadly shook his head. The man from 
 materialistic Chicago ventured to assert that mills 
 with their blurring smoke would spoil the scene 
 and the agent looked at him in surprise. 
 
 They had turned into another street, having 
 passed through the town, and had crossed a stone 
 bridge, thrown in a single arch over a clear stream ; 
 and here two turnpikes merged into a V shape, one 
 running along a hedge; the other stretching far off 
 in the distance, like a white mark. The agent 
 drove along the hedge, and was silent, not seeming 
 to know what to say to this man from the com 
 mercial jungle of the West. But he felt about and 
 found the unfailing recourse, that of declaring that 
 he might now be a rich man had he gone to Chicago
 
 2 4 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 years ago. Many a business failure throughout 
 the country soothes its own vanity by believing 
 that wonders would have been accomplished had 
 it immigrated to Chicago in the early days. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so," said Hawley. "Let's see, 
 how many acres are there in the Ingleview farm ?" 
 
 "Four hundred and eighty, sir." 
 
 "Is it under cultivation at all?" 
 
 "Well, in spots, sir. Of late years nobody has 
 attempted to run it; couldn't get at it very well, 
 anyway. It belongs to the Radford heirs and they 
 have done considerable squabbling among them 
 selves. Yonder it lies." He pointed off to the 
 left. Hawley gazed in silence. He saw rest among 
 the trees. "We turn in here," said the agent. 
 "There used to be an iron gate here but it was 
 torn off and taken away, I don't know how long 
 ago. We'll go to the house and see if we can get 
 something to eat." 
 
 The gate posts were of stone, roughly fashioned 
 and rudely carved by the hand of a country mason. 
 A graveled driveway led down a gentle slope, 
 crossed a rivulet and then wound about in a grove 
 of oaks, the first growth, the trees grand and in-
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 25 
 
 dividualized. Here was a sudden rise of ground 
 and from it could be seen the blue grass stretches 
 of the farm. Low stone walls, tumbled down in 
 many places; distant hillsides ribbed with gullies; 
 scars here and there the shiftless pretenses of 
 cultivation; a whitening vista of sycarriore trees; 
 a creek, blue and silent between bluffs and then 
 breaking out in noisy shallows; spring houses built 
 of stone; old barns, a negro quarter fallen into 
 decay slavery's deserted village; old orchards and 
 tangled plum thickets the atmosphere of a phase 
 of life that is now forever gone. The dwelling 
 house was on a graceful swell of ground, over 
 looking the creek a mansion fine and modern 
 in its day, but now a quaint old structure, rough, 
 built of undressed stone, contructed in the form of 
 an L. And the end of one wing had fallen into 
 ruins; one room had bean exposed to the sunlight 
 and to the rain. when it drove hard from the north, 
 but now it was half protected by the thick inter 
 weaving of a trumpet vine. 
 
 An old negro woman who had been born on the 
 place had charge of the house. She had been 
 warned of the coming of an important visitor and
 
 26 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 had been instructed to prepare for him; and deft 
 in her touch, she had gone from room to room, 
 dusting the scant furniture. The old piano that 
 looked like the mounted skeleton of some pre 
 historic monster was ornamented with a basket of 
 flowers gathered in the yard; the grim portraits, ' 
 forgotten, by the quarreling heirs, were rubbed back 
 to a ghastly semblance of the painter's art; and 
 three young Shanghai "pullets" had been slaugh 
 tered. 
 
 The shrewdness of Hawley's instincts veiled his 
 delight; the agent was closely watching him; an 
 expression of pleasure might cost him money. After 
 breakfast he examined the house, and seemed to 
 hang with fondness about the end room that had 
 fallen into ruin. He felt that his father's keen eye 
 might gaze out over the rich lands but he knew 
 that his mother's poetic senses would have found 
 repose among the vines. He rode over the farm 
 and then came back to the house. The agent 
 talked almost incessantly but the man from the 
 busy city paid but little attention to him. The 
 old negro woman appeared to be worried. She 
 was evidently afraid that her administration was
 
 27 
 
 at an end. She crossed the yard, singing a most 
 doleful air and then returning to the place where 
 Hawley stood, plaintively said that she "didn't 
 wish anybody any trouble and that she did not 
 intend to interfere with anybody's affairs but 
 that she had so often prayed that she might be 
 permitted to end her days on the Ingleview place. 
 Hawley looked at her compassionately. "And 
 so you shall," said he. Then quickly he looked 
 about to see if the agent were within hearing. He 
 was not he was talking to a haggard-looking man 
 that had just come through the yard gate. "If I 
 buy this place," Hawley continued, "I don't intend 
 to wrench out any of its tenderer associations. 
 Make yourself perfectly easy." The old woman 
 uttered a fervent "God bless you," and as though 
 overcome by this stranger's generosity, she hastily 
 turned away. The agent and the cadaverous man 
 approached. He was worse than being merely 
 cadaverous he was wretched. His cheeks were 
 hollow and his eyes were sunken and lusterless. 
 His head shook, and though the day was warm, 
 he wore a gray overcoat drawn about his shoulders. 
 He was introduced as Dr. Moffet.
 
 2 8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Mighty glad to meet you, sir," said the doctor. 
 "I have heard a great deal about you 
 
 Hawley shut him off with a look. "I don't know 
 why you should have heard very much about me." 
 
 The doctor bowed. "I admire your modesty, 
 sir," he said. And presently he added: "Judge 
 Trapnell and I were talking about you the other 
 day." 
 
 "Talking about me?" Hawley asked in surprise. 
 
 "Yes, Judge Trapnell and I. And we agreed, 
 sir, that you must be a very modest man." 
 
 "I don't know why you should have come to any 
 such agreement since neither of you had any means 
 of finding out anything about me." 
 
 "Ah, you unconsciously insist in asserting your 
 modesty, sir," the wretched-looking man declared, 
 drawing his overcoat closer about his shoulders and 
 bowing. "By the way," he added, "may I have 
 the honor of a moment's private talk with you ?" 
 
 "Yes," Hawley answered, significantly looking 
 at his watch. 
 
 The doctor drew him aside, from the agent and 
 from the old negro woman who had now returned, 
 and said: "I have lived here, sir, all my life, you
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 29 
 
 might say. I was educated by the second Radford 
 and was placed here as physician in charge of the 
 health of this place. In truth and in short, I 
 doctored the negroes and the horses, saving the 
 estate many a dollar thereby and reflecting con 
 siderable credit upon myself. Every minute of my 
 professional time belonged "to old General Radford, 
 and when he died about the time the war closed, 
 I continued to live here on the ground to which I 
 had during a busy life become so tenderly attached, 
 still seeking to alleviate pain. I might have gone 
 out and made a name, but no, I remained here, 
 faithful to what I regarded as a trust. And now, 
 sir, coming straight to the point and those who 
 know me, especially Judge Trapnell, will tell you 
 that straightness of statement is one of the features 
 that has characterized me during my long career 
 I say, coming to the point, or rather I ask, having 
 come to the point as you perceive, what am I going 
 to do if you buy this place? Hold a moment," he 
 quickly added, lifting his hand with a warning 
 gesture, "I entreat you not to be rash. Although 
 sudden and straightforward myself, I beg of you 
 not to speak impulsively but to take your own
 
 3O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 deliberate time. It is unfortunately true that there 
 is no particular doctering to be done here as in the 
 hallowed days, but still I may be of some use to 
 you, but again taking up the point which as you 
 perceive persists in obtruding itself, what arrange 
 ment can I make with you for remaining on this 
 place, that is in the etfent that your good judgment 
 leads you into the aforesaid purchase? I don't 
 ask any salary, sir; all I ask is that cabin over 
 there and what little I may find myself able to eat, 
 and I pledge you my word that I eat scarcely 
 enough to keep a chicken alive. Hold," he added 
 with another gesture, "don't force yourself to 
 answer me now with impulsive generosity, but take 
 your time and let your judgment frame your reply. 
 But I can be of a great deal of use to you." 
 
 "I don't know of any particular harm that you 
 might do," Hawley replied. 
 
 "I thank you profoundly, sir, most profoundly. 
 It is so rare in this day of withered hope that de 
 pendent man receives a kindness, even by word, to 
 say nothing of deed, that I cannot but say that I 
 
 thank you most profoundly. Look at me, sir" 
 
 opening his overcoat and showing his sunken breast
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 3! 
 
 "look at me, sir. I am an old man, and I am 
 not well. There, I will not detain you longer, and 
 I hope that you will excuse the abrupt way I have 
 of reaching a conclusion." 
 
 Hawley told the agent that he would take the 
 plac*e if the matter of terms and title could be 
 satisfactory settled; and early in the afternoon they 
 drove back to town. Under the heat of the fervid 
 day the place had lost some of its poetic freshness, 
 but its air of restfulness remained. It held a lazy 
 attractiveness. There was no sign anywhere of 
 want, and yet the people ruffled not their good 
 humor with unseemly thrift. Every man appeared 
 to regard himself as eminently respectable, and if 
 it be true that leisure is one of the marks of gen 
 tility, he certainly placed not too high an estimate 
 upon himself. About the court-house, sitting in 
 the shade with their chairs tipped back, reposed 
 the town's aristocracy, waiting for some one to cut 
 a watermelon. Their hats were on the ground 
 beside them and each hat contained a handkerchief. 
 They had not come merely to rest for a few 
 moments they were there for all day. No not 
 exactly for all day. They had a "recess" when the
 
 32 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 court-house bell startled them into the conscious 
 ness that it was time to go home and get some 
 thing to eat. How did they live? That question 
 has been asked a thousand times, and no Solomon 
 has ever been able satisfactorily to answer it. 
 Occasionally the group would receive reinforcement 
 from the lawyers and tradesmen about the square, 
 and sometimes the county clerk would come out, 
 and standing in the door, would tell a joke that had 
 been brought from North Carolina in 1795. 
 
 Hawley was introduced. The business in hand 
 was as nothing in comparisonwith a presentation to 
 these worthies. The old .gentlemen tilted forward 
 as if they were about to pitch straight out on their 
 faces, but recovered themselves with a knack learned 
 after many years of practice, they straightened up 
 and shook hands with him. How cordial they were ; 
 how perfect was their mastery over that smooth 
 palaver which distinguishes the well-bred man who 
 has nothing to say and who therefore must say it 
 well. An old justice of the peace took the agent's 
 place and acted as director of ceremonies. "I wish 
 to assure you," he said to Hawley, "that you are 
 most welcome. At all times, sir, we stand ready
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 33 
 
 to invite the infusion of new and vigorous blood. 
 You are from a city, sir, that we greatly admire, 
 and if it were not for the fact that some of your 
 thoughtless people have perpetuated Libby 
 Prison" 
 
 "Libby Prison," Hawley broke in, "is owned by 
 a man who fought in the Confederate army." 
 
 "Ah, you don't tell me! And if that fact were 
 generally known, our trade with your city would 
 be bigger than it is. But that's no matter. We 
 welcome you most heartily and feel that you will 
 become a most useful citizen. Just wait a moment." 
 Hawley had started into the court-house. "Wait 
 a moment, sir, we are going to cut a watermelon." 
 
 The agent was not dull to the importance of 
 closing the trade; indeed his keenness was shown 
 by a reproachful glance which he shot at the old 
 Justice of the peace, but the cutting of a water 
 melon, attended by many ceremonial flourishes, 
 was a social function not to be interrupted by the 
 harsh details of a business transaction. The melon 
 was served and a number 'of hogs that held the 
 foraging privilege of the neighborhood, came across 
 the square and devoured the rinds. After this the
 
 34 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 land transaction was again taken up. In the 
 records held by a dusty shelf, not an obstructing 
 mark was found; the title came down like a clear 
 stream from a hill-top; and without searching for 
 a perplexity, Hawley soon brought the deal to a 
 close. 
 
 At evening the new owner of Ingleview sat in 
 the ruined room of the old mansion and looked 
 through the vines at the moon. How different 
 from his wonted evening gaze out upon the tangled 
 humanity of a thronged street. He heard the low 
 murmur of the creek, a strange accompaniament to 
 a negro's weird song that came from somewhere 
 away off in the shadow. His commercial instincts 
 lay asleep, the spirit of his father was dormant; 
 his gentler nature ruled his being the soul' of his 
 mother was there.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The next few days were spent in making arrange 
 ments for the improvement of the place. It was 
 a time of great excitement in the neighborhood, 
 it was the revival of business after a long season 
 of inactivity. Carpenters, stonemasons and day 
 laborers were summoned. It was an industrial 
 "boom". A number of men were repairing a tumble 
 down place in a stone wall that ran parallel with 
 the turnpike, and Hawley was standing near watch 
 ing them, when an old gentleman rode up. "Here, 
 boy," he called, speaking to one of the men, "hold 
 this horse." The man obeyed; and the old gen 
 tleman, dismounting, came toward Hawley with 
 his hand outstretched. 
 
 "I am glad to meet you, sir," said he as Hawley 
 took his hand. "I am a neighbor of yours. Trap- 
 nell is my name." 
 
 "Judge Trapnell?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. You will please pardon this intrusion 
 35
 
 36 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 it is not intended as a formal visit but as I was 
 
 passing I could not help but stop and ask you a 
 question concerning the improvements you are 
 to make. And sir, it may' appear like a piece 
 of impertinence " 
 
 "Not at all," said Hawley, smiling at the peculiar 
 old gentleman. 
 
 "I thank you, sir. I wanted to ask you if you 
 intended to pull down any of these old rock fences 
 and replace them with barbed wire ?" 
 
 "I had not thought of such a thing," Hawley 
 answered. 
 
 "You are a gentleman, sir," said the Judge, 
 bowing. "A number of our people have done 
 this outlandish thing," he continued, wrinkling his 
 brow with a severe frown. "They have pulled 
 down the landmarks of a settled civilization and 
 have replaced them with a devilish and un-Ameri 
 can contrivance." 
 
 He took off his white hat, an ancient and fuzzy 
 "plug," and with a red handkerchief which he 
 grabbled out of the crown, wiped his face. And 
 Hawley, looking closely at him, thought that he 
 had never seen a more impressive man. He was
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 37 
 
 very tall and exceedingly spare no whiskers, no 
 mustache shaved almost under the skin. His 
 complexion was red and there were broken veins 
 in his cheeks; his "Adam's apple" looked like a knot 
 tied in a red comforter; his nose was large, thin 
 and of a pronounced Roman type; his hair was 
 white and stood up straight in front; his eyes were 
 gray, steady of gaze and quick of glance. He 
 looked like an old oil painting of Andrew Jackson, 
 and his temperament yielded to this resemblance. 
 He swore "By the Eternal." While a young man 
 he had been received by Jackson, with stately 
 courtesy at the Hermitage, and now in his old age 
 he worshiped that memory as a time when he 
 had stood in the presence of God's greatest crea 
 tion. 
 
 "Boy," the Judge called, "bring me my horse." 
 
 "You must not go yet, Judge," Hawley insisted. 
 "It is about noon-time. Let us go to the house 
 and get something to eat." 
 
 "I should like to go into the old house again, 
 sir, and I intend to; but I do not wish to intrude." 
 
 "There can be no intrusion, and no embarrass 
 ment if you can put up with my fare." 
 
 .449679
 
 38 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "By the Eternal, sir, I can put up with anything. 
 I will go with you." 
 
 They passed through a gap in the fence, the 
 Judge leading his horse. "It has been a long time 
 since I was on these grounds," he said looking 
 about him. "Old Radford and I had a falling out 
 many years ago, and I swore that I would never 
 set foot on this soil so long as it belonged to any 
 of his kin. There is no doubt as to the fact that 
 the trade is closed, is there?" he asked, halting. 
 
 "None whatever." 
 
 "I am glad of it, sir," he rejoined, moving for 
 ward again. After a time he said: "If I am not 
 impertinent in making the request I should like 
 you to tell me what you intend to do here." 
 
 "I am going to repair the old place and live here, 
 a part of the time at least. I know that I can't 
 bring it back to the importance it once held, but 
 1 can make it attractive, at least to me. I am not 
 going to cut down a single one of these plum 
 thickets; not a stick of the timber shall be touched 
 and the house shall remain practically the same." 
 
 "But I suppose you will fix up that end room 
 where the wall is tumbled down," said the Judge.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 39 
 
 "No, I am going to let that remain just the 
 same. No repair and no adornment could change 
 it for the better. I don't know what its memories 
 are, but " 
 
 "By the Eternal!" exclaimed the Judge, halting, 
 "one of its memories is this old Andrew Jackson 
 slept in it. And you are not going to disturb it. 
 Mr. Hawley," he said, holding out his hand and 
 bending over when Hawley grasped it, "I can say, 
 sir, with a deep feeling of truth that I welcome 
 you to this neighborhood." 
 
 They strolled on again and the Judge continued: 
 "There are very few people here that are worth 
 knowing, sir. The young crop is a worthless set 
 in comparison with these that are gone. As you 
 doubtless know the world has fallen into decay. 
 There is here and there a struggling remnant of 
 worth, but the average man is a fool." 
 
 "Ah, but hasn't man in every age said the same 
 thing, Judge?" 
 
 "Man has said many things in every age, sir, 
 and the average man in every age has been a liar. 
 But I speak from facts. Where are your great 
 men now? Point them out, will you? There are
 
 4O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 talkative men and fussy men but the great men 
 are dead. Why, we have no man now as great as 
 Henry Clay, even, and in comparison with Jackson 
 Henry Clay was a mere trumpeter. The great 
 men are dead, sir, and the world is dying. When 
 I say the world, I mean this country, for this is 
 the only part of the world that ever was worth 
 living in. Ah, and suppose Andrew Jackson could 
 have had a real successor. Would there have 
 been any war? No, sir. Rebellion would not 
 have dared to lift its head by the Eternal, sir, it 
 would have been afraid to lick out its tongue. I 
 was a Union man because I knew that Jackson 
 would have been a Union man, and I remained one 
 long after our boys went into the Confederate 
 army. And I should always have remained true 
 to the cause if a lot of foreign hirelings hadn't 
 come down upon us and destroyed our homes. 
 But let that go. I am heartily glad as I said be 
 fore that you have .come among us. You are a 
 man of sentiment and are therefore a gentleman. 
 But I had my doubts when I heard that you were 
 from Chicago, a town that respects nothing old or 
 venerable."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 41 
 
 "Have you ever visited Chicago, Judge?" 
 
 "No, sir, and I never intend to. There is a close 
 kinship between New York and this part of the 
 country, but we care nothing for your up-start city. 
 It is an interloper, sir; it is a thief that came in 
 the night." 
 
 "It is the home of my birth, Judge, and it holds 
 many a tender memory for me." 
 
 "I beg pardon," said the old man. "Indeed, sir, 
 it is so new a place that I didn't think that it was 
 the home of anybody's birth. It seems to me but 
 yesterday since I first heard of it. I am old sir, 
 and harsh; you must excuse me. We turn this 
 way, eh ? It has been many a day since I strolled 
 through here. But I have wanted to. Great men 
 have trod this ground; great political deliberations 
 have been conducted under these trees. Right 
 over there, sir, under that oak, it was once agreed 
 that I should take a place on the supreme bench 
 of my state." 
 
 "And were you elected?" 
 
 "I was sold like a bullock. That was before the 
 war. We met here in a sort of caucus. I was 
 the choice; the ambition of my life was about to
 
 42 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 be realized. The convention met in Nashville the 
 next day. Then a vile scoundrel sold me out- 
 knocked me down to the highest bidder. He had 
 been close to me; he knew my aspirations. I lost 
 the nomination, and I was determined that he 
 should lose his blood. And by the Eternal, sir, 
 he shall if he lives long enough for me to meet 
 him." 
 
 "Why, how long ago did you say it was?" 
 Hawley asked. 
 
 "It was before the war, sir." 
 
 "And you haven't met him since." 
 
 "No, he slunk out of my sight under the cover 
 of darkness and I haven't set eyes on him from 
 that day to this; but if ever I do, I will have his 
 blood. Time has no influence upon the hatred I 
 bear that man; that hatred has no yesterday 
 and no to-morrow; it lives in an eternal now. I 
 understood that he went over into Williamson 
 county, having known or indeed having felt that I 
 would kill him, and took up his residence there, 
 but be that as it may, he never came back into 
 this county again. A number of years ago a son- 
 in-law of his one that lives in this county came
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 43 
 
 to see me. He spoke of the old times and of the 
 enmities they engendered and thus led me on to 
 my trouble with his wife's father. He lamented the 
 many changes that had taken place, and finally 
 he asked me what I would do if his father-in-law 
 should come back here to live. I told him that 
 the old man had a right to choose his residence, 
 but that my vengeance had not perished with the 
 numerous things that had passed away, and that 
 if ever I should meet him I would surely spill his 
 blood. He knew that I meant it, and since then 
 I have heard nothing that hinted at the old 
 scoundrel's intentions. The man of to-day, sir, 
 the man of your city might permit new and vulgar 
 interests to cover up so old a resentment, but to 
 me there is no forgiveness for such an injury. Did 
 Jackson ever forgive? Does nature ever forgive? 
 Then why as a follower of Jackson and as an off 
 shoot of nature should I be expected to forgive? I 
 am not going to hunt for Old Gordon P. Hensley, 
 for that would be murder; but if ever we meet, 
 one of us dies. There now, I have shown you my 
 prejudices; have done this so that I might not 
 be taking any advantage ol your hospitality. Do 
 you still invite me to your house, sir?"
 
 44 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 Hawley laughed. "If I had not done so before," 
 said he, "I assuredly would ask you now. In many 
 respects I am as ignorant as a pig. I know Chicago's 
 present but I don't know Tennessee's past; and it 
 is refreshing to meet you. I should think that all 
 men must admire the old-time American. No 
 matter how far wrong he might have been, he be 
 lieved that he was right. He knew but one country 
 and imitated no man; he was brave and who can 
 help admiring him for that?" 
 
 The old man's eyes shot a quick side glance at 
 him. "I thank you, sir," he said. 
 
 "Yonder comes a strange man," Hawley re 
 marked, inclining his head toward a point where 
 the road wound about a thick clump of bushes. 
 
 "Who is he, sir? I don't think that I can 
 recognize him at this distance." 
 
 "An old man who introduced himself as Dr. 
 Moffet." 
 
 "Hah, isn't he dead yet? Of course I knew 
 that he wasn't dead but I haven't seen him in a 
 long time." 
 
 "Why, the other day he remarked that he and 
 you had been talking about me."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 45 
 
 "He is simply a poor old liar, Mr. Hawley. He 
 has eaten morphine until he doesn't know what he 
 says." 
 
 The Doctor came toward them, his gray overcoat 
 drawn about his shoulders. "Gentlemen, this is 
 indeed a pleasant surprise," said he. "Judge, I 
 am happy to see you, and especially so to see that 
 you have made the acquaintance of the distin 
 guished Mr. Hawley." He halted and shook hands 
 with Hawley and the Judge. "Professor Barrow 
 and I have just been talking about both of you. 
 Any news going on in town? I leave home so 
 seldom that I rarely hear anything. And I can't 
 read the newspapers, for as you know, Judge, they 
 are not what they used to be. There was a time 
 when the newspapers in this country were alive to 
 the interests of our people, but now they deal 
 mainly in foreign affairs and are of no use to us. 
 Judge, you haven't been over lately." 
 
 " Lately !" exclaimed the Judge. " By the Eternal, 
 this is the first time I have been here in twenty-five 
 years." 
 
 "Ah, I really didn't think it had been so long as 
 that."
 
 46 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Doctor," said Hawley, "we are on our way to 
 dinner. -Won't you come and eat with us?" 
 
 "No, I thank you. To tell you the truth, I don't 
 eat enough to keep a chicken alive. I wish you a 
 very good day, gentlemen." 
 
 "Poor old fellow," said the Judge as they walked 
 along. "Years ago he was one of the brightest 
 young men in this community, but he fell a victim 
 to morphine and since that time he has been worth 
 less. You remember that he spoke of Professor 
 Barrow. He is another instance of intellect gone 
 wrong, though not through morphine or liquor or 
 any other agency that any one has discovered. He 
 was well educated and was to take the chair of 
 moral philosophy in the Bledsoe University, a seat 
 of learning to be established about five miles from 
 here. I don't think that the foundation stones of 
 the institution were more than laid when the war 
 put a stop to further progress. Young Barrow had 
 put his heart and all his money into the enterprise, 
 and his thoughts were not set adrift by the military 
 spirit that stirred the land. He tried to raise money 
 to continue the work but was laughed at; he went 
 about preaching his so-called moral philosophy
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 47 
 
 until his mental system was unsettled an he has 
 never been right since. He lives in a cabin over 
 on the east side of your farm and like the doctor, 
 he is one of your charges." 
 
 "Why, what sort of a nest of cranks have I got 
 into," said Hawley. 
 
 "A nest of cranks surely," replied the Judge, 
 "but they are harmless and it is easier to keep 
 them than to get rid of them. They'll not be in 
 the way and the best thing to do is to let them 
 remain where they are." 
 
 "I suppose so," Hawley rejoined. 
 
 They passed along what had once been an osage 
 hedge but which, neglected so many years, had 
 become a row of ragged trees. They were near the 
 house and could hear the old negro woman singing in 
 the yard. They passed through a gap in a thick row 
 of althea bushes. The old woman, with her hands 
 on her hips, slowly advanced to meet them. 
 
 "W'y bless my life, ef dis ain' Jedge Trapnell!" 
 she exclaimed. "Why, who 'spected ter see you 
 yere, Jedge? I declar I ain't been so upset in er 
 laung time. Why, how's Miss Mandy an' Miss 
 Ida? I ain' been over dar in some time an' I reckon
 
 48 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 dat chile is mos' grown. Bless my life, it do me 
 good ter see you. Puts me in mine o' de time w'en 
 folks uster make speeches at dem barbacues. But 
 I wush you had er come er little sooner, fur 
 dinner's been done some time, an' it's gittin' sorter 
 col' now, I'se er feerd. Dat triflin' Ben went off 
 an' did'n leave me er nuff wood, no how." 
 
 "Isn't that trifling scoundrel dead yet, Aunt 
 Lily ?" the Judge asked. 
 
 "Oh, no sah, he am' wuth dyin'. Steer run 
 agin him las' fall an' jammed him ergin de fence 
 an' we all lowed he gwine die, but de fust thing I 
 knowd he dun crawled outen de house an' wuz 
 settin' un'er er tree chawin' er hunk o* braid. 
 No, sah, you kain kill 'im but he am' wuth bis 
 salt." 
 
 "Who is this Ben?" Hawley asked. 
 
 "Why ain' I dun tole you 'bout him? 'Deed I 
 thought I had. He's myhusbun', sah, an' he ain' 
 no manner er count. But come right on ter dinner. 
 Kain speck vidults ter be good w'en you put off 
 eatin' dis way. Dat 'Fesser Bar been setten' roun' 
 yere like it wuz all he coul' do ter keephisse'f fum 
 jumpin' right straddle o' de table. Dat pusson
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 49 
 
 pears ter be haungry all de time. Jedge, I'll hitch 
 yo" boss, sah. n 
 
 The dining-room was long and broad, and 
 although its general appearance was rather bleak, 
 yet in detail it discovered here and there a pretense 
 to luxury. The pannelling was of black walnut 
 and the floor, which ever looked as if it had been 
 newly waxed, was laid in narrow strips of sweet 
 gum. 
 
 When Hawley and the Judge entered the room, 
 a blear-eyed and grizzle-bearded man got up from 
 a chair near the further door and advanced to meet 
 them. "I hope that my sitting here has been un 
 objectionable, gentlemen. This is Mr. Hawley, I 
 presume, and this I am happy to see is Judge 
 TrapnelL It may be necessary to tell you, Mr. 
 Hawley, but it is not necessary to tell the Judge, 
 that I am Professor Barrow, of the Bledsoe Univer 
 sity. I held the chair of moral philosophy in that 
 famous institution. Gentlemen, may I presume 
 to shake hands with you?" 
 
 They shook hands with him and just then they 
 heard the negro woman's voice, commanding them 
 to sit down and help themelves. She entered with 
 
 4
 
 50 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 the air of one upon whom great responsible ; 
 rested; she gave the Professor a look of no com 
 plimentary meaning; she apologized for the disor 
 der into which everything had fallen and in solemn 
 tones spoke a regret that she had not known that 
 company was coming. She was a great, coarse 
 creature, but what a depth of music was in her 
 voice, how gentle was her touch and how easily 
 everything appeared to yield to it. 
 
 "Mr. Hawley," said the Professor, "you may not' 
 know it as yet, but I am one of your honored 
 tenants. And I have come over to-day, sir, to 
 express the hope that our relationship may con 
 tinue. The truth is, sir. that an old scholar looks 
 with dread upon any sort of change. The promise 
 of a splendid domicile could not tempt me to leave 
 my present modest abode, and I earnestly trust 
 that you may permit me to reside there. My eyes 
 are turned in but one direction the past. I shall 
 not be in your way; I shall ask you for no susti- 
 nence. A relation of mine provides me with food 
 and raiment; and all I dare ask of you is to permit 
 me to remain under a roof that has become dear 
 to me. As a business transaction, I am forced to
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 51 
 
 
 
 confide to you the fact that such an arrangement 
 may not redound to your advantage, but I have 
 dared to encourage the hope that you may, on this 
 occasion, overlook your commercial " 
 
 "I don't think that I shall need your house, 
 Professor," Hawley broke in. 
 
 "Really, sir, to hear you say so gives me great 
 delight. Let me help you to another piece of the 
 chicken," he added, assuming the place of host. 
 The Judge shot a glance at Hawley; Hawley looked 
 quickly at him and caught the fading light of a dry, 
 sarcastic smile. A silence followed. The Pro 
 fessor ate ravenously, and then shoving himself 
 from the table, said: "Will you gentlemen indulge 
 me to the further extent of granting a pardon for 
 my hasty withdrawal? The truth is I have be 
 thought me of an idea and must needs return home 
 and work it out. Judge, I wish you a very good 
 day; and to you, Mr. Hawley, I must express my 
 most profound gratitude. This is the hurried age 
 of the world, and at a time of such quickness and 
 expected -brusqueness, it is rare that we meet with 
 so humane a courtesy as that which you have exten 
 ded to me. Gentlemen, I wish you both gootf day."
 
 52 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 The Professor took up a cudgel, with which he 
 always went armed, bowed and strode out. 
 
 "It appears that this place has been run merely 
 as an asylum for cranks," said Hawley. 
 
 The Judge laughed in a dry way, in a way more 
 expressive of courtesy than of mirth, and thus 
 replied: "These poor people you might say are 
 the bats and owls of society. But, sir, we should 
 have sympathy even for a bat and an owl. How- 
 ever, it does look a little hard that you should ex 
 ercise all the sympathy. In reality these people 
 believe that their right to the place is as strong as 
 yours. They are the weeds growing upon the walls 
 of our crumbling institutions. A good many years 
 ago a man rode up to my house and asked if he 
 might stay over night with us. Of course his 
 request was granted. During a talk that followed 
 it developed that he was acquainted with a number 
 of my people in North Carolina, How long do 
 you suppose he stayed at my house ?" 
 
 "Well, the fact that he knew some of your people 
 warranted his staying at least a week." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the Judge, "yes, sir, he stayed 
 until he died, ten years later, That's the way it
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 53 
 
 used to be in the South. When a man rode up to 
 the gate you didn't know whether he was going to 
 stay ten minutes or fifteen years." 
 
 "And yet, Judge, such impositions, as you now 
 look back upon them, do not seem to blight the 
 endearment of those old days." 
 
 "Not in the least, sir, for they were the only 
 days worth living in. They were days of plenty 
 and of sociability. Our houses were roomy and 
 the size of a family made no particular difference." 
 
 "And," said Hawley, "the days of ease and 
 quiet don't seem yet to be gone forever. In town 
 I was struck with the restfulness and the content 
 ment of the men who sat about the court-house." 
 
 "Yes, sir, doubtless a unique picture to a man 
 from the hurried walks of life, but perfectly natural 
 here. The court-house-hanger-on is not charac 
 teristic, though, to one town but is representative 
 of the entire South. Indeed, I might say of the 
 entire country. But tell me, sir; do you intend 
 to breed race horses?" 
 
 "No, but I am going to stock the place with fine 
 cattle." 
 
 "That's sensible unless you have a passion for
 
 54 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 fast horses. I doubt, though, whether you can 
 bring this farm back to its former standard. The 
 famous trainers are dead and the breed of horses 
 has degenerated." 
 
 "Ah, but horses now are faster than ever before." 
 
 The Judge threw up his head and gazed at 
 Hawley. "The newspapers say so but it is not a fact. 
 There are no such horses now as Hiawatha; and 
 the equal of old Gray Eagle has never been seen." 
 
 "To tell you the truth, Judge, I don't know 
 very much about race horses." 
 
 "I should think not, sir." 
 
 How stubbornly did the prejudices of the past 
 qit themselves against this young man, and how 
 gentle he was in the humoring of them. And not 
 until this moment had he supposed that graceful 
 submission to a palpable error lay within the 
 province of a Chicagoan, He would have wrangled 
 with his friend, Dr. Ford, but he felt a strange, 
 humoring sympathy for this old man. How wide 
 awake and shrewd he must have been when states 
 rights were in their glory, but how narrow now 
 since many a myth had faded in the light of a 
 truth-seeking day.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 55 
 
 "Mr. Havvley, said the Judge, "my farm is not far 
 from here. By the pike you go toward town to 
 the bridge, then take the Nashville pike. That 
 way, it is about three miles, but take the path 
 across the fields and through the woods, and it 
 isn't more than a mile. I shall be greatly pleased 
 to see you at my house, and I feel that we shall 
 become good neighbors. I cannot well express to 
 you how this visit to-day has affected me. I feel 
 as one who has returned after a long banishment, 
 and I have spoken to you with a freedom hardly 
 warranted in addressing a stranger. I have told 
 you of a hate that I carry in my bosom, and this 
 I should not have done. But the man who keeps 
 his emotions and his impulses under too much 
 control, is a hypocrite. I must ask you, though, 
 not to mention to any one that I told you of my 
 trouble with Gordon P. Henseley. Years have 
 passed since I spoke of him, but to-day, sir, I have 
 been walking the backward path. Would it be 
 against your religious scruples, sir, to dine with 
 me next Sunday?" 
 
 "Not in the least. I don't know that I have 
 any religious scruples. I'm sure that I have no 
 religious carpings."
 
 56 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Well said, sir; well said. Then I shall expect 
 you next Sunday. And at twelve o'clock, mind 
 you. We eat dinner at an American hour. Aunt 
 Lily," he shouted, arising, "bring my horse to the 
 door."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Early Sunday morning while Hawley lay in that 
 state of drowsiness which luxuriates in the dreamy 
 valley between sleep and a knowledge of surround 
 ings, Aunt Lily's voice aroused him. "Breckfus is 
 dun ready," she said, tapping on the door. "You 
 didn' tell me not ter hab breckfus Sundays de same 
 ez udder days an' I sorter had ter take mer 
 chances; but it dun ready now, an' lessen you 
 want it ter git coP you better come on." 
 
 When Hawley entered the breakfast-room, the 
 old woman was standing near the table, and with 
 a peach tree bough she was keeping off the flies. 
 
 "I must get some screens for this house, "said he. 
 
 "Law, chile, whut you want wid screens?" 
 
 "To keep the flies out." 
 
 "Ain't I keepin' 'em out?" 
 
 "Yes, but it's too much trouble." 
 
 "Not fur me caze I been doin' it too many years, 
 
 now; an' I doan know bout dem screens, no how. 
 
 57
 
 58 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 But set right down caze deze vidults is gittin col'. 
 I doan know dat I cooks jest ter suit you ur not, 
 sah, but ef I doan tell me so an 1 I'll 1'arn how. I 
 yere 'em say de cookin' in dis country doan suit 
 folks fum de Nawf, an' I jes wanter tell you dat I 
 stan's yere ready ter change my cou'se." 
 
 "Your cooking is all right," Hawley replied. But 
 the old woman's suspicion was aroused when he 
 added: "After a while I may get someone to help 
 you." 
 
 "I doan wan' nobody fussin' roun' tryin' ter he'p 
 me, sah," she quickly rejoined. 
 
 "I won't let any one interfere with you, Aunt 
 Lily." 
 
 "I thanks you fur sayin' dat, de Lawd knows." 
 
 "By the way," said Hawley, smiling at her, 
 "you don't resemble the lily that Solomon spoke 
 of, for you toil and I think I've heard your spin 
 ning wheel." 
 
 The old woman shook her fat sides with laughter. 
 "Now you ain' gwine joke me 'bout my name, is 
 you? White folks been pesterin' me 'bout my 
 name all my life. My young mistis named me, 
 sah. An' I reckon her haid wuz mighty full o'
 
 59 
 
 nonsense at de time. Dar's my triflin husbund 
 out dar now. See im settin' under dat tree?" 
 
 Hawley looked out and saw a short, bow-legged 
 negro dozing on a bench. "He's er putty lookin' 
 speciment fur er pusson ter be tied up wid, ain't 
 he? But does you know dat man's er doctor? He is." 
 
 "Not a regular doctor, is he?" 
 
 "I doan know how regular he is, sah, but he's er 
 doctor. He goes out in de woods an' digs* up 
 yarbs, an' I has yearn folks say dat dar is some 
 zeazes dat kain' git er way fum 'im no way you 
 kin fix it. But not laung ergo one o' his sick folks 
 died an' it wuz sorter hinted 'roun' dat Ben pizened 
 'im, but not on purpose. Dat Dr. Moffet an' 'im 
 do hab some awful quarls, Yander comes Dr. 
 Moffet now." 
 
 The doctor came through the althea bushes, 
 halted for a moment when he spied old Ben dozing 
 and then sat down on the further end of the bench. 
 Ben looked up and demanded: "Whut you wanter 
 come 'ruptin' er man, fur?" 
 
 "I'm not interrupting you, you black rascal." 
 
 "I 'knowledges dat I'se black, but I ain' no 
 rascal. I'se er man o' science."
 
 60 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Science!" the Doctor contemptuously repeated. 
 "You couldn't read your name if you were to see 
 it in letters a yard long." 
 
 "I doan kere nutin' 'bout dat ; I doan kere nuthin' 
 'bout letters er yard laung I'm er science, all de 
 same. Man has de rheumatiz an' I fetches out 
 mer medicine an' 'e drinks some o' hit an' I rubs 
 'im wid some o' hit; an' den whut? de man walks 
 on off, 'joycin'. But whut do 'e do ef you comes 
 ter see 'im? Hah, whut do 'e do den? He lays 
 dar in de bed an' mebby 'e neber do git up." 
 
 "But what about Sam Norris?" 
 
 "Oh, dat nigger? 'E didn' hab no rheumatiz." 
 
 "Ah, but you killed him." 
 
 "Who killed 'im." 
 
 "You did, you black butcher." 
 
 "I didn' kill de man. De Lawd killed 'im. 
 Lawd seed dat it wuz de man's time ter go jes' 
 happened ter ricolleck dat it wuz 'is time ter go 
 an' 'E tuck 'im. I ain 1 'sponsible fur whut de 
 Lawd do. Ef de Lawd wants er man ter git well, 
 my medicine cures 'im; an' ef de Lawd doan 
 wan' 'im ter git well, nobody's medicine ain' 
 gwine do 'im no good."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 6l 
 
 "I've told you a dozen times to leave this place; 
 you've got no right here." 
 
 "Got ez much right yere ezyou has. Science is 
 got er right most anywhar." 
 
 "Well, I'm going to see Mr. Hawley and " 
 
 "'E's right dar in de house, I reckon; you better 
 see 'im now." 
 
 "Here," said Hawley, stepping out into the yard, 
 "I don't want any quarreling on this place." 
 
 "Dat's whut I been tellin' dis generman, sah, 
 all de time," old Ben declared. "S' I 'dar's er 
 monstus fine pusson got dis place now an' 'e doan 
 wan' no jowerin'." 
 
 "Mr. Hawley," said the Doctor, getting up and 
 bowing low, "I am delighted to see you this morn 
 ing, sir. It is a beautiful day. I was just over by 
 the old race track a lovely place with a wild 
 flower here and there to shed a mourning fragrance 
 over its lost glory." 
 
 "Won't you come into breakfast, Doctor?" 
 
 "No, I thank you. I scarcely eat enough, sir, 
 to keep a chicken alive. What are you snorting 
 at!" he demanded, turning upon the negro. 
 
 "Gracious er live, has it come ter er p'int w'en
 
 $2 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 er pusson ain' got er right ter smile? Mr. Hawley, 
 doat pay no 'tention ter dis white pusson, sah, 
 caze 'e ain' right bright in 'is mine." 
 
 "I don't want any such talk as that," said Haw- 
 ley, laughing in spite of all effort to restrain him 
 self. 
 
 "No, sah, an' you ain' gwine git it, nuther. 
 Caze lemme tell you right now dat whateber you 
 wants done is law wid me. I'se been down ter de 
 stable dis mawnin' er workin' hard er takin' kere 
 o' dem new bosses o' yourn; an' ef you'll jest let 
 me stay yere along wid dat ole wife o' mine, dar 
 ain' nuthin' dat I ain' gwine do fur you. I gwine 
 clean out de well dis day." 
 
 "I don't want you to work on Sunday." 
 
 "Dat's er fack, dis is Sunday. I clar I so busy 
 dat I dun furgot de day o' de week. But I gwine 
 hump merse'f ter mor. An' say; w'en you runs 
 fur office, jes' let me know. I kin pull an' haul 
 deze niggers er 'roun like da wan' nuthin' but er 
 rag kyarpet. Wall, I mus' go an' be er layin' out 
 my plans." 
 
 "I wants you ter chop some wood 'fo' you goes," 
 his wife called.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 63 
 
 "Honey, dat wuz on my mine dis minit. Yas, 
 I'll chop all de wood you wan'. Skuze me, sah," 
 he added, speaking to Hawley, "but whut is yo' 
 fust name?" 
 
 "Robert," Hawley answered. 
 
 "Ah, hah, an' does you wan' me ter call you 
 Mars Bob?" 
 
 "No, I don't." 
 
 "Wall, ef you doan' I won'; but I'se mighty 
 tempted ter. Wall, good mawnin', Marse Bob 
 dar, I dun furgit merse'f. Skuze me dis time but 
 I does feel mighty wa'm toward you." 
 
 Ben hastened away as if upon an important 
 errand, Aunt Lily turned to her household duties . 
 and Hawley went out and sat on the bench. It 
 was still early and dew drops clinging to the rose 
 bushes, flashed off miniature photographs of the 
 sun. The shrivelled old Doctor sat in the fervid 
 light, with his overcoat drawn about him. Hawley 
 lighted a cigar, half musingly, and then, arousing 
 himself, said: "Have a cigar. Pardon me for 
 not offering you one sooner." 
 
 The Doctor bowed and took the cigar. They 
 smoked in silence. But the proprietor of Ingleview
 
 64 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 did not know what an effort that silence cost the 
 Doctor; he did not realize that the morphine eater's 
 reserve required his strongest exercise of will. The 
 young man felt a sense of loneliness. Had the 
 romance, 'the freshness of this old place so 
 soon begun to fade? Was he holding dear the 
 remembered roar of Chicago? The Doctor looked 
 at him, their eyes met; and a sudden revulsion 
 overcame Hawley's pity for that withered creature. 
 He looked like a sneak, a malicious gossip. But 
 he coughed a hollow echo sent back the land of 
 the dead and the strong man's pity was alive 
 again. 
 
 "I'm going into the library to see what books 
 have fallen into my keeping," said Hawley. "Won't 
 you come along?" 
 
 "No, I thank you. I must go to my lowly 
 abode." 
 
 Hawley could have thanked him for this, but he 
 did not ; he mumbled a regret, fearing the while 
 that the Doctor might decide to go with him, and 
 then rather hastily he entered the house. A man that 
 had spent much of his life among books would 
 have laughed at this library. There were numerous
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 65 
 
 volumes of light romances, all English, all teeming 
 with lords and ladies, with not a glimpse of actual 
 life as it once existed or as it is likely ever to exist. 
 But there was a religious streak running from 
 top to bottom. Tempestuous tracts conceived 
 in hot and passionate enmity to Catholicism 
 and indeed toward all forms of religion save the 
 one bigoted creed of the writer thereof, were 
 piled here. and there, covered with dust, the dry 
 mockery of old Earth. Amid this rubbish of fiction 
 and fanaticism, Hawley found a book that must have 
 been greatly cherished in its day; a large volume 
 for the most part taken up with colored plates of 
 race horses. How well thumbed it was; how 
 smeared with the eager hands of childhood. And 
 what signs of rivalry in ownership were found. 
 Below the plate of one fleet-looking racer were these 
 words, dim, yellowed: "This here is Tom's hoss;" 
 and beneath them was scrawled: "No he ain't; 
 he's Jim's." A Webster's spelling book fell to the 
 floor and flew open at the picture of the old man 
 pelting the youngster that had refused to come 
 down out of the tree; and then there tumbled down 
 an old novel, "The Planter's Northern Bride." 
 
 5
 
 66 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 With what a sniff of contempt the abolitonists had 
 turned from it, but how devoted was the slave 
 owner to its high-flown pages. It etherialized, it 
 consecrated human bondage; it darkly frowned 
 upon the earthly aspiration of black flesh; it told 
 the negro that his glory in the world to come de 
 pended upon his meekness here. Abraham had 
 servants that he bought with his money; and no 
 further was there need of argument. Hawley soon 
 lost himself amid the gaudy decorations of this old 
 book, finding here a silken banner with an error 
 inscribed upon it; there he seemed to turn over a 
 handkerchief of lace, musty with dead perfume. But 
 in these faded fineries how clearly was traced the 
 inner life of Ingleview, forty years ago. He put 
 the book aside and stood gazing at the negro 
 quarter on a hill -side, not far away. Old Ben, 
 carrying a bundle of roots, crossed his view; and 
 he heard Aunt Lily singing in the yard An ancient 
 clock in the hall growled and began to strike. It 
 was more like a complaint, this whang, whang, 
 whang it was a begrudging release of the hour, 
 a whining acknowledgment of time. Hawley 
 snatched out his watch; the morning had slipped
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 67 
 
 away and now it was hasten or miss his appoint 
 ment with the Judge. 
 
 "Yo* hoss is ready fur you, sah," said Aunt Lily 
 as he stepped out. 
 
 "Turn him loose again; I'm going to walk." 
 
 "W'y, you ain' gwine walk dis hot mawnin', is 
 you? But I ain' gwine argy wid you, chile, fur 
 you knows whut you kin stan'. Lissun at me 
 callin' you chile. You mus' skuze me, sah, ef I 
 says things dat ain' right; fur I spent so much o' 
 my time 'mong chillun dat I doan know how ter 
 talk ter er generman, no how. Ef you gwine walk 
 jest take dat paf runnin' ober de hill yander, cross 
 de ole race track an' you'll soon be dar. You 
 gwine like dem folks ober dar. Good mawnin', 
 sah; an '1 ain' gwine look fur you back till I dun 
 seed you comin'." 
 
 Every step was interesting. He 'halted on a 
 knoll and surveyed his possessions. How old and 
 how venerable the landscape was. Time had seemed 
 to set the seal of its approval on hill-top and in 
 hollow. He crossed the old race-track. It was 
 grass-grown but with no dilapidated sheds to blight 
 the scene. He followed a path that skirted a strip
 
 68 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 of woods. Some one called, and looking about he 
 saw Professor Barrow hastening to overtake him. 
 
 "You are light on your feet," said the professor, 
 coming up. 
 
 "Not as light as a man who has an engagement 
 should be." 
 
 "Going over to the Judge's, eh? Charming old 
 gentleman, sir. Permit me to walk with you a 
 part of the way. There is something that I wanted 
 to say to you," he added as they turned down the 
 path that led through a clover field. "I don't know 
 how you feel toward higher education, but it has 
 struck me that you might be willing to help me 
 revive Bledsoe University. I don't ask you for an 
 immediate decision I would rather that you'd wait 
 awhile. But we could make a great thing of it, 
 sir; we could startle the philosophical world. We 
 would pay no attention to what might be called 
 the nick-nacks of learning; we would mainly devote 
 ourselves to moral philosophy. I am getting along 
 in years, but I'm not too old; the mind is never 
 old so long as it is progressive, and with encour 
 agement my mind would leap yes, sir, actually 
 leap forward."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 69 
 
 He did not look like a professor of any sort of 
 philosophy. He wore a broad brim, rye straw hat 
 with a red band; and he carried his cudgel as if he 
 were constantly expecting an attack from a hidden 
 enemy. Hawley knew that this man's mind was 
 not sound, and he felt, therefore, that it was better 
 to humor him, not with a promise but with a 
 pleasing evasion. " Higher education makes higher 
 man," said he. 
 
 "Ah, a snap-shot at truth. And you will assist 
 me with my enterprise." 
 
 "I can't say just now, but I will think of it." 
 
 "I thank you, for that assures me that I may 
 expect your help. The old Judge thinks well of 
 my pl-an, and I am sure that he would have joined 
 with me long ago but for the fact that his wife held 
 him back. Ah, but she's a pernicious creature; 
 and such a life as she does lead him! She's his 
 second wife, and was a poor, stuck-up old maid 
 when he married her. Why, sir, I hardly dare 
 go on the place. She threatened to scald me once." 
 
 "And," said Hawley, "if she's as pernicious as 
 you think she might scald you twice." 
 
 The professor struck the ground with his cudgel.
 
 7O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Yes," he exclaimed, "and three times if I should 
 give her the chance. But I won't; I will treat her 
 with distant contempt. Well, I must leave you 
 here. Vender's the house, just across the pike."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Judge's house was built of red bricks and 
 stood with its sharp gable end toward the turn 
 pike. There were numerous trees in the yard, 
 oaks, elms and stubbed cedars; an orchard came 
 close up to the fence, on one side, and on the other 
 side was a garden wild with shrubbery and berry- 
 briars. The creek that flowed through Ingleview, 
 turned at a bluff a mile away, and ran past the 
 foot of the stony hill on which the Judge's house 
 seemed to sit in dullness, brooding. 
 
 The Judge was walking to and fro in the yard, 
 with his hands behind him. His white hat was on 
 the ground under a tree, and an old, sleepy-eyed 
 dog lay with one paw resting on it. 
 
 "Come right in," cried the Judge, hastening to 
 ward the gate. "Here, I'll open it; has to be 
 lifted up. Been threatening to fix it for more than 
 a year. That's it. How do you find yourself this 
 
 71
 
 jr 2 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 morning," he asked, shaking hands with his visitor. 
 
 "First rate." 
 
 "I'm pleased to hear it. Step right this way." 
 
 A fleeting vision of white and pink told Hawley 
 that a girl had disappeared behind a corner of the 
 house, and the broad haw, haw, of a negro woman 
 who stood in the door of a cabin informed him 
 that the escape had been observed in another 
 quarter. With stately but easy ceremony the 
 Judge showed his visitor into the hall, and when 
 he had hung up his hat, conducted him into the old 
 fashioned parlor. The room was severe and the 
 furniture was heavy. In one corner was a piano, 
 so antiquated, so crippled in its legs that it ap 
 peared to lean against the wall for rest. There 
 was a great arm-chair with a sheep-skin bottom; 
 a horse-hair sofa nearly as large as a bed; a red 
 bell-cord hung near the door; brass andirons 
 gleamed in the fire-place the whole bore the ap 
 pearance of a room in a museum, representing the 
 home life of some political leader of the past. 
 
 A tall woman came in and the Judge presented 
 Hawley to his wife. In looks she did not dispute 
 the character which the professor of moral philos-
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 73 
 
 ophy had given her. Her features were sharp, 
 her eyes were small and her hair was the color of 
 dry grass. Her lips were thin and her mouth large. 
 Her neck was long, and when she slightly bowed, 
 which she did in acknowledgment of the introduc 
 tion, the act implied a strong though groundless 
 pretense to stateliness. She had cultivated a lisp, 
 having doubtless caught the idea from some sense 
 less romance; and she regarded herself, one could 
 see, as a privileged person who could at will take 
 up life's graces and improve upon them. It was 
 also evident that she was never wrong, and that 
 she was therefore never forced through conviction 
 to acknowledge a fault. 
 
 "Now, sir," said the Judge, "I want you to sit 
 right down and feel as much at home as I did at 
 your house the other day. Madam," he added, 
 speaking to his wife, "where is Ida?" 
 
 "I don't know, I'm sure. She was here just a 
 few moments ago. You are a stranger among us, 
 Mr. Hawley, but you will soon become acquainted 
 with our ways." 
 
 "A Chicago man," Hawley ventured to reply, "is 
 a stranger nowhere."
 
 74 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Indeed," she rejoined, lifting her eyebrows. 
 "I am pleased to hear it for we do so much desire 
 that every one should feel at home. Shall I get 
 you a fan?" 
 . "No, I thank you." 
 
 "You may hand me that turkey wing over there," 
 said the Judge."It's too hot for any use to-day." 
 
 She handed him the turkey wing and he sat 
 fanning himself. She looked at him with a sort of 
 pitying compassion. "I don't see why you stick to 
 that old thing. Judge, when you might as well have 
 a fan," she said; and the old man replied: "There 
 are a great many things, Madam, that you may 
 not be able to see." 
 
 "And there are some things that I don't care to 
 see," she returned with a suggestion of snappish- 
 ness in the tone of her voice. 
 
 "Yes," said the old man, placidly fanning him 
 self, "and there are also some things that you won't 
 see although you look straight at them." 
 
 Hawley was not well acquainted with household 
 affairs, but he inferred that the Judge and his wife 
 had indulged in a tilt that morning and were as yet 
 unable to hide the unpleasant fact.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 75 
 
 "You are all alone, I believe," said Mrs. Trap- 
 nell, addressing Hawley. "That is to say, you 
 have no family." 
 
 "No family," Hawley answered. 
 
 "You must feel very lonely in that big house. It 
 always was a dreary place to me. I always asso 
 ciate it with a lot of stuck up people that used to 
 live there. But of course you intend to improve 
 it. There's room for it, goodness knows. You 
 will please excuse me as I have to see how dinner 
 is progressing. Servants in this part of the country 
 are not what they once were." 
 
 She bowed, withdrew; and then the Judge said: 
 "Here comes my granddaughter." 
 
 Hawley arose and was introduced to a red-headed 
 girl. She appeared to be full of pranks and sup 
 pressed laughter. Her complexion was exceedingly 
 fair and on her cheeks dim freckles were discerni 
 ble. Her eyes were gleeful, divulging a mischief 
 which she seemed to be striving to hide; she was 
 small though plump; and Hawley thought that 
 her neck was beautiful. The visitor said some 
 thing and the girl turned away, giggling. 
 
 The Judge sternly pronounced her name, and in-
 
 76 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 stantly her face became serious, but its gravity fell 
 to pieces and she laughed and ran away. But 
 she halted upon reaching the door, turned to 
 Hawley and said: "You must excuse me but I 
 can't help it. The truth is I was up in an apple 
 tree when you came; and when I jumped down 
 and ran away, I bumped against a calf that had 
 just got into the yard and I fell into the cellar." 
 
 "I hope you didn't hurt yourself," Hawley re 
 plied, laughing. 
 
 "No, but I didn't do myself any good. Gramper, 
 where's grams?" 
 
 The Judge looked up quickly and remarked: 
 "That's what she calls her grandmother and me." 
 
 "And your grams," said Hawley, smiling at her, 
 "has gone to see about dinner." 
 
 She liked this familiar pleasantry; it was so 
 different from the cool dignity which she had pre 
 figured as a characteristic of this man; and to the 
 visitor it was evident that many a scrap of dried 
 advice had been stuffed into her ears. She was 
 surely not beyond her seventeenth year. At one 
 moment she appeared to have all the physical ease 
 of a matured woman; at the next instant she
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE . 77 
 
 showed the lingering awkwardness of the growing 
 girl. 
 
 "Ida," said her grandfather, "go down by the 
 spring branch and bring some mint." 
 
 "There's some in the garden," she replied. 
 
 "I told you to go down by the spring branch." 
 
 "I think the garden mint is better, gramper." 
 
 The old man looked at her and cleared his throat, 
 and pretending to be greatly frightened at his 
 severity of manner, she hastened away. 
 
 "An old man," said the Judge, "is master no 
 where, not even in his own house." 
 
 "I don't think you have cause to complain," 
 Hawley replied. 
 
 "No, as a matter of fact I haven't. All my life 
 I have endeavored to employ reason rather than 
 authority. I was many years on the bench, and 
 therefore I weigh causes instead of issuing a com 
 mand." 
 
 "Your long service as a mediator must have 
 made you well acquainted with the weakness of 
 man." 
 
 "Yes, but it takes no such training to discover 
 a thing so apparent. Man, sir, is so weak that he
 
 78 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 looks upon his own selfishness as a virtue. To him 
 a rascally shrewdness is enterprise and greed is 
 ability. Civilization may polish, but it also hardens 
 him. And it seems to me that the height of polish 
 and hardness is about reached. Every year a new 
 littleness in man is revealed. Last year I may have 
 thought that human nature could descend no 
 lower; but this year I find that what I took to be 
 a limit, was only a mile-stone along the downward 
 course." 
 
 Hawley moved uneasily in his chair "But my 
 dear sir," said he, "your view may possibly be 
 distorted. Every age in fhe past was at one time 
 a present, and therefore must have been denounced. 
 As we grow old, our eyes are blinded to the good 
 and the beauty of the present, while our memory 
 so sharp of edge, cuts swiftly back to the past and 
 flashes a glory over the things that were. Pardon 
 me," he added, warned by the stiffening aspect of 
 the old man, "I merely say this at a venture: 
 merely throw it off as a suggestion." 
 
 "You have a right, sir, to offer suggestions," the 
 old jurist admitted; "a follower of Jackson should 
 grant freedom of speech to every man. And by
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 79 
 
 the Eternal, sir, shall I in my old and feeble ignor 
 ance say that you are not right ? I may be blind 
 and the blind man may say that there are no 
 flowers. And his adversary may tell him that the 
 existence of flowers do not depend upon his eyes; 
 they hold a sweet perfume. And then the blind 
 man says, my nostrils are dull and I can smell 
 them not. Now, sir, I may be blind and unable 
 to smell, but by the Eternal, I don't believe it. I 
 say that an age free from strikes and all sorts of 
 labor disturbances is better than a time of organ 
 ized insurrection against authority." 
 
 "But how about wild-cat banks, Judge?" 
 
 The old man snorted. "Hasn't a sovereign state 
 a right to make its own money?" he demanded. 
 
 "Oh, yes," Hawley answered, "and another 
 sovereign state has the right to say that it is not 
 money. Jackson was no doubt a great man in 
 his way, but " 
 
 "In his way!" the old man shouted, "Great God, 
 sir! what do you mean. Why don't you go further 
 and declare that the Saviour was great in his way? 
 But pardon me," he added, loosening his high- 
 strung tension. "It must be true that I am an
 
 8O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 old fogy, and out of place. This is not my day; it 
 is yours with your keen business sense." He got 
 up, while Hawley sat wondering what to say, and 
 pacing the floor, continued: "By the Eternal, sir, 
 I rather like your antagonism. It makes my old 
 blood move. The people hereabout have indulged 
 me in what they no doubt regard as my whim. 
 Whim the devil! Common sense is not a whim. 
 If it is, then may the Lord send us more whims. 
 Do you know, Mr. Hawley, that one idea, one 
 determination sometimes keeps a man alive ap 
 parently beyond his allotted time? I will explain: 
 A strong heat has in it the element of life; a thirst 
 for revenge induces an eagerness that fights off 
 death. Do you catch my meaning ?" 
 I don't know that I do, very clearly." 
 "I shall endeavor, then, to make myself under 
 stood. A man has an aim in life, attains it and 
 dies. The active man retires from business and is 
 soon dead. And why? His life-giving stimulus is 
 gone. My aim was to sit upon the supreme bench 
 of this state. That was denied me. Then what 
 took the place of that aim? The thirst for the 
 blood of Gordon P. Hensley. And this is what
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 8 I 
 
 has kept me alive. Do I call myself a Christian? I 
 do. Was Moses a man of God? He was. Did Moses 
 forgive? He did not." He was silent for a few 
 moments, but continuing to walk up and down the 
 room, he added: "As the plan of a just vengeance 
 enters the bosom as an inspiration from the Lord, 
 I believe that Gordon P. Hensley is to be thrown 
 in my way. The years come feebly tottering on, 
 and the blood grows cooler and cooler, but it is 
 not intended that this man shall escape me. At 
 times I have been tempted to hunt for him, but to 
 hunt for him would be a premeditation of murder; 
 God must place him in my way; and the hand of 
 restraint has been put upon me and I have fancied 
 that I heard a voice say, 'wait; your time is com 
 ing.' As I before requested, Mr. Hawley, don't 
 mention this. Talking about it comes upon me 
 like a hydrophobic spell." 
 
 "Hydrophobic is rather appropriate," said Haw- 
 ley. "You don't want water, but blood." 
 
 "Yes; it's rather shocking to the super-fine and 
 hypocritical senses of to-day, but it is nevertheless 
 true. I don't know, sir, that I was ever guilty of 
 a cruelty; but I hold that revenge is a god-like 
 
 Tennessee Judge 6
 
 82 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 quality. Oh, I know that we are enjoined to for 
 give, but that is a mere pleasantry. Here's Ida 
 with the mint." 
 
 "Gramper," said the girl, "I went to both places 
 and the spring branch mint is the best." 
 
 The old man laughed, and reclaiming the manner 
 of a bygone politeness, he bowed and said: "That 
 acknowledgment advances you ten degrees in 
 grace." 
 
 "In your opinion, gramper, which is grace 
 etherialized." 
 
 "Ah, but you lose your grace and sink to the 
 level of the seminary pedant. Now, Mr. Hawley, 
 we'll have a mint toddy. I'll go into the dining- 
 room and have it ready for you." 
 
 He withdrew and the girl sat on the broad arm 
 of his rocking chair. 
 
 "I hope you like it here, Mr. Hawley," she said. 
 
 "Yes, the country is beautiful." 
 
 "And the people?" 
 
 "I haven't seen many of the people. I must 
 say, though, that I have been received with kind 
 ness." 
 
 "Men that have money usually are, "she replied.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 83 
 
 He looked at her with a quick inquiry and she 
 laughed. "It wouldn't do for gramper to hear 
 me say that," she said, "but he ought to know that 
 it's true. He thinks it's strange that a girl should 
 know more now than the girls did when he was 
 young. But they do. I am awfully tired of this 
 fogyish old place. Never any change just the 
 same, one day and another. I'd like to live in a 
 city I'd like to see something of life." 
 
 "You might soon get tired of it." 
 
 "The women that live there don't seem to get 
 tired of it. I notice that when they come to the 
 country they get back as soon as they can. I've 
 lived in Nashville a good deal; I'd like to live 
 there all the time." 
 
 "Have you ever been in a very large city?" 
 
 "I went with gramper to New Orleans, once, but 
 we didn't stay very long. Tell me about Chicago." 
 
 "What must I tell you?" 
 
 "Oh, everything. I don't know, however, that 
 I'd like to live there. They kill too many people 
 there; I've heard that when people get up in the 
 morning they don't know where the railroad trains 
 are going to run before evening; and along about
 
 84 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 dinner time a train slips up and kills them. And I 
 have read, too, that the water is awful. People 
 jump into the lake and are drowned and other 
 people drink the water. The widow Myer's son- 
 lives about three miles from here went to Chicago 
 last year and about four months later he came 
 home with only one leg. He said that he couldn't 
 possibly get away with both of them. You needn't 
 laugh, for I just know it's all true. But I'd like 
 to go there and peep at the place and run away." 
 
 "Probably if you were to go there you wouldn't 
 want to run away." 
 
 "That may be, if I didn't get killed right off. 
 Oh, you needn't laugh." 
 
 "You want me to tell you about Chicago, and 
 yet you presist in telling me about it," he said. 
 
 "I'll hush; go on and tell me." 
 
 "No, I'd rather have you tell me, for there 
 might be a misleading prejudice in what I say, 
 while in what you tell me there will surely be en 
 tertainment. I must tell you? Well, let me start, 
 as the true Chicago man always does, by saying 
 that my city is the most wonderful in the world. 
 It is the most active and thinks quicker; it is the
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 85 
 
 most progressive and is consequently the most 
 American of all cities. Foreigners pour in but 
 they are soon swallowed up and Chicago licks her 
 chops for more. Anarchists arise and are hanged; 
 aldermen filch and are sent to the penitentiary " 
 "And," interrupted the Judge, appearing at the 
 door, "women work for starvation wages; modest 
 virtue is despised; grinding vulgarians, grown rich 
 on a sudden, spit upon the poverty-stricken their 
 companions of yesterday. That, sir, my reading 
 and my reason teach me, is the every-day life of 
 all new cities. But, come, dinner is ready," he 
 added, advancing and taking Hawley's arm.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 In the dining-room was the inevitable negro with 
 a leafy bough, keeping the flies away. The light, 
 coming aslant through a high, narrow window, 
 fell upon the heavy silver ware and beglittsred the 
 table. At an old mahogony side-board, knobbed, 
 gnarled and twisted with cunning artifice, the Judge 
 and his visitor stood and sipped the mint infusion. 
 Time had thrown reverence upon this indulgence, 
 and the Judge appeared in no haste to bring it to an 
 end, although his wife, with worry-flushed face, 
 stood at the foot of the table waiting for him to sit 
 down. But the old man was at a shrine where 
 confidences are spoken, where habits are confessed. 
 He told Hawley that since early life he had taken 
 three drinks a day, never more and never fewer; 
 he did not believe in striving to enforce temperance, 
 for, in the government of the appetite every man 
 was a law unto himself. Whisky was plentiful in 
 his day; every respectable house had its side-board, 
 
 86
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 87 
 
 and yet, besotted drunkenness was rare. The 
 liquor was purer and man had more pride. If a 
 traveler stopped at a house to ask direction to a 
 place, before his question was answered he was in 
 vited to drink. The negroes were given a dram 
 every morning. It was a mistake to believe that 
 the introduction of that vile brew, lager beer, had 
 aided the cause of temperance. It was a dastardly 
 slop, an un-American hog-wash. It dulled our 
 native keenness, it put clogs on the nimbly-tripping 
 feet of fancy, compelled fancy to labor with phleg 
 matic legs. 
 
 At the table Hawley made himself studiedly 
 agreeable; he had learned many of the old man's 
 prejudices and with more of politeness than of con 
 viction he-strove to humor them. He told of the 
 rapid pace with which life was compelled to move 
 in his city; the struggle was for time. "A friend 
 of mine and I were going out of town on business," 
 said he. "My friend needed shaving. We had but 
 a few moments to spare. There were two barber 
 shops, side by side. We looked into one and then 
 into the other. All the chairs were full. 'I will 
 go in here,' said my friend, choosing the worst 
 looking shop."
 
 38 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Why did he do that?" the Judge asked. "1 
 thought that a Chicago man would choose the 
 best." 
 
 "I thought so too," Hawley answered, "and I 
 asked him when he came out why he had gone in 
 to that shop. 'Why, I noticed,' said he, 'that the 
 barbers were about equally advanced with their 
 work, and I selected the one in which a bald- 
 headed man sat. He was likely to be the soonest 
 dismissed the barber didn't have to comb his 
 hair." 
 
 The old man laughed, the girl giggled, but Mrs. 
 Trapnell drew down the corners of her mouth and 
 fanned her flushed face. She was determined not 
 to be amused. Hawley's sharp eye caught the re 
 flected color of her intention, and adroitly bringing 
 it about, he told her of a panic that he had once 
 seen in a theater; men were knocked down and 
 women were crushed. At this she was pleased, 
 and now the guest found himself on good terms 
 with her. The Judge talked and occasionally his 
 granddaughter took mild issue with him; the negro 
 boy nodded and garnished a ham with his leafy 
 bough; Mrs. Trapnell cleared her throat with a
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 89 
 
 grating threat and the negro sprang back to instant 
 sprightliness. The old Judge frowned at this 
 unseemly balking of the social flow, which he had 
 been glad to see was broadening pleasantly; and 
 Ida laughed and shot a mischief-making glance at 
 Hawley. 
 
 They returned to the parlor. "We'll smoke 
 here," said the Judge. "Ida, bring the pipes and 
 the tobacco box." His wife gave him a hard look 
 but he pretended not to see her. It was still 
 more evident to the visitor that they had indulged 
 in a tilt, and he wondered if an inability or a dis 
 inclination to conceal a household bickering had 
 been a feature of the lordly Southern life, long ago. 
 They lighted their pipes. Hawley looked toward 
 the piano and the girl, quick to construe his glance, 
 smiled at him and said: "Yes, I know it would 
 be polite to ask me to play, but it wouldn't be 
 agreeable if I should attempt it. That old piano 
 was worn out years ago with 'Rosy Lee, the Prairie 
 Flower,' and 'We miss you Nettie Moore.'" 
 
 "Ida," said the grandmother. 
 
 "Well it was," she insisted. "Didn't a man 
 come to tune it some time ago, and didn't he say
 
 go A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 it was a hopeless wreck? I must say, though, 
 that I'm glad of it; I don't like to play anyhow." 
 "Then you aren't fond of music," said Hawley 
 "Oh, yes, and that's the reason I don't like to 
 
 play." 
 
 Footsteps in the hall. A man appeared at the 
 door, bowed and said: "I hope I see you all." 
 
 "It's more than likely that you do," the Judge 
 replied. "Come in, Charles." And then with 
 bowing, smiling and a perfect pantomime of scrap 
 ings, Mr. Charles Willis entered the room. He was 
 tall, with unusually long legs; his head was large 
 and his forehead was square and flattened at the 
 temples; his eyes were of a nondescript color; 
 and tangled up in his thick, short beard, he 
 appeared constantly to wear half a smile, half 
 a cynical leer. When introduced to Hawley, he 
 cut a caper, shook hands and said: "I hope I 
 - impress you favorably; if not, my efforts are futive 
 and abortive." 
 
 "Mr. Willis," remarked the Judge, "is my wife's 
 cousin." 
 
 Mrs. Trapnell, slowly fanning herself, did not 
 deny the charge. Mr. Willis, still holding Hawley's
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 9 1 
 
 hand, "thus went on: "I hope, sir, that your 
 education has not been neglected; but, sir, can 
 you spell elemosynary ? Quick now; quick." 
 
 Hawley spelled the word, thinking of his nest of 
 cranks, the while: and Mr. Willis, releasing his 
 hand, bowed and expressed himself as greatly 
 satisfied with the result. 
 
 "Charles," said the Judge, "I was just wondering 
 if you would ever learn to behave yourself." 
 
 "Judge, I try to be a gentleman," Mr. Willis 
 declared. 
 
 "That's all right, Charley," said the Judge, "but 
 don't you think you'd better take up an easier 
 experiment?" 
 
 "Why, you dear, distinguished cuss, you shock 
 me," Mr. Willis retorted. "When I awake at morn 
 ing I say: 'Oh, Charley, do be a gentleman.' Mr. 
 Hawley permit me " He shook hands again and 
 then said: "Allow me to welcome you to this, the 
 flower garden of God's kingdom. But why a flower 
 garden? In spite of the sloth and shiftlessness of 
 the people. Look at the biggest land owner in 
 this county, old Harry Morton, down near the 
 river. Is he a man? He is not. Was he born?
 
 92 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 I deny it. He was laid upon a stump by some 
 aerial scavenger and hatched out by the genial rays 
 of a Southern sun. Be seated, Mr. Hawley." 
 Hawley sat down; Mr. Willis continued: "I hope 
 that I make myself understood. I endeavor to be 
 clear, logical and euphonius; forcible, pure, elegant 
 and expressive; terse, syllogistic, pointed and con 
 vincing. And, as I say, if I fail, my efforts have 
 been futive and abortive. Are you a reader of 
 character? Will you please tell me what you think 
 of me?" 
 
 "I don't think that you can be very dangerous," 
 said Hawley, having satisfied himself that the man 
 was a sort of verbal freak. 
 
 "Dangerous. How can you think of that harsh 
 word? I am the whipped cream of gentleness." 
 
 "Ah, by the way," Hawley asked, "you don't 
 live on my farm, do you?" 
 
 "My dear sir, I have not that distinguished 
 honor. Judge, why that ripple of merriment on 
 your venerable countenance? I live beside the 
 often placid yet some times raging waters of the 
 Cumberland, three miles from this peaceful abode. 
 I live alone; my wives are dead. My home is
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 93 
 
 humble, lowly, quiet, peaceful, small, half hidden, 
 but picturesque. I might be wealthy, but I have 
 had to contend against the world, without argu 
 ment enough to convince the world that it ought 
 to give me a fair compensation for my services. I 
 am a scientific agriculturist. Look." . He sprang 
 from the chair upon which he had seated him 
 self a moment before, thrust his hand in the tail 
 pocket of his coat and drew forth a turnip. "This 
 turnip," said he, "and I charge you to observe its 
 smooth proportion was raised by a justice of the 
 peace. But just think what it would be had the 
 man who raised it been a judge. Look at this." 
 He drew out a potato. "Raised by a constable. 
 What might we have expected of it had he been a 
 sheriff? This land is choked with possibilities. 
 These products were raised by men who still spell 
 corn, cabbage and cucumbers with a k. I say to 
 'the world, give me a chance; I am a practical 
 man. So when I heard that you had bought this 
 great piece of land over here, I was determined to 
 come to see you. And as I say, I hope that I im 
 press you favorably. If not, my efforts are futive 
 and abortive."
 
 9 4 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Charley, have you seen Henry's folks lately?" 
 Mrs. Trapnell asked. And he loftily answered: 
 
 "Cousin Mandy, this is no time to grease conver 
 sation with a bacon rind. Henry and his folks are 
 hunks of coarse meat. Let us hurl them into a 
 deserved obscurity. Judge, it strikes me that an 
 essence of mint permeates the ambient air; and 
 with your permission I will consult your side 
 board." 
 
 "Help yourself; and by the way you will find 
 something to eat on the table." 
 
 "Judge, greediness shows appreciation; I will 
 therefore greedily accept your kind offer." 
 
 When Mr. Willis stepped out the Judge, speak 
 ing to Hawley, remarked: "I had to laugh just 
 now when you asked him if he lived on your farm." 
 
 "I didn't know," Hawley replied, "but that he 
 belonged" he hesitated, looking at Mrs. Trapnell. 
 
 "I grant you permission to say it," she said, 
 smiling. "He is a distant relation of mine but I 
 don't presume to defend him." 
 
 "I wasn't going to say anything greatly to his 
 discredit. I naturally supposed that his place was 
 with the doctor and the Professor of moral philos 
 ophy."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 95 
 
 "Charley is a bright fellow in some things," said 
 the Judge. "I think his trouble is that he doesn't 
 exactly know what he wants." 
 
 "He's not a bore at any rate," Hawley replied. 
 
 "No, not at first," the girl spoke up. "After a 
 while, though " 
 
 "Ida," said her grandmother, "you'd better run 
 down to the spring-house and get the crock of 
 buttermilk for him." 
 
 "I don't think he wants milk, grams." 
 
 "She appears to know," said the Judge. 
 
 Just then Mr. Willis stepped back into the room. 
 "Mr. Hawley," said he, "I should like' to walk a 
 part of the way home with you and lay before you 
 a plan that will, without the most fleeting obscu 
 ration of a doubt, serve you to your advantage." 
 
 "All right," Hawley answered. "No man is 
 more willing to look at a plan that has been drawn 
 for his advantage." 
 
 "Good," Mr. Willis exclaimed. "The trouble is 
 that I have always had to buck please pardon me 
 for so harsh and coarse a word as buck, for I strive 
 to be chaste, though pungent; delicate though 
 severe. The trouble that I have had to contend
 
 96 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 against is that people with whom I am most un 
 fortunately thrown in contact, stand and roll their 
 eyes in dull astonishment at the plans which I un 
 fold for their advantage. Did I say people? They 
 are not people; they are the mistakes of an over 
 abundant creation; they would make a valuable 
 addition to a compost heap." 
 
 "Charles," said the Judge, "I would give a great 
 deal for your enthusiasm. How have you managed 
 to keep it all these years?" 
 
 Willis cut a dido, gestured a protest against the 
 insinuation that he was growing old and thus re 
 torted: "My enthusiasm is a part of my nature; 
 my nature is a tenant of my body, and demands 
 that its habitation shall be kept in good repair. 
 In fact, I exercise; I get up at morning and kick 
 and stretch my arms. To strain is the exercise of 
 the brute, the prize fighter. I take the exercise of 
 the gentleman, and pardon me, but I try to be a 
 gentleman." 
 
 "An honest effort to be a gentleman needs no 
 pardoning, Charles; it is no offense." 
 
 "Ah, I thank you. It is this exercise, Judge, that 
 keeps up my gentlemanly enthusiasm."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 97 
 
 "With exercise we may keep the body strong," 
 said the Judge, "but that won't keep the enthusiasm 
 alive, and in man's enthusiasm lies his genius. 
 Mr. Hawley " the visitor and the girl were talking 
 "at your time of life I was full of enthusiasm, 
 but I hadn't the mental strength then that I have 
 now. A man's mind expands at the expense of his 
 enjoyments. And when his mental faculties have 
 become well drilled, he turns sadly from his dis 
 cipline and muses with fond lingering over his crudi 
 ties, his awkwardness of long ago." 
 
 "It is not so with all men," Hawley replied. "I 
 know old men on the board of trade in Chicago 
 who are just as eager and enthusiastic as a boy. 
 Speculation gives them a thrill, and a thrill is not 
 only a reminder but the real presence of youth." 
 
 "And for the reason," the Judge rejoined, "that 
 the gambler lives in the present alone. The card 
 player lives with the hand he is now holding, and 
 not with the hand he held yesterday. And I have 
 observed, sir, that self-made men rarely worship 
 the past, for to them the past was hard and gnarly. 
 The university man turns to the still living joy, a 
 victory on the campus; but the self-made man, 
 
 Tennessee Judge 7
 
 Qg A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 looking back, sees the hard struggle of poverty. 
 He despises and repudiates the past and therefore 
 cleaves to the present and looks with hope to the 
 
 future." 
 
 The evening was well advanced when Hawley 
 arose to take his leave. The Judge's wife had 
 grown gracious and the old man was in excellent 
 humor. Mr. Willis, as though in haste to spread 
 out his plan, stood in the door, waiting for Hawley 
 who loitered to exchange idle words with the girl. 
 The Judge went with them to the gate. 
 
 "Did you notice," said Willis when they had 
 crossed the turnpike and entered the long stretch 
 of grass land, "that the Judge's wife didn't seem 
 to be in the best of humor?" 
 
 "Yes, I noticed it and wondered at it, too," 
 Hawley answered. "It semes to me that rather 
 than show ill-temper to a stranger in my own 
 house I would crush myself into the appearance of 
 good-humor." 
 
 "Yes, but that isn't cousin Mandy's way. She 
 is a most peculiar creature, and mean? Why 
 blast my buttons excuse me, a barbarism which 
 I did not intend as mean at times as a rattlesnake
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 99 
 
 in August; but at other times she's as 'sweet and 
 chirpy as a bird. For a long time, now, she has 
 been dogging the old man to sell his place and move 
 to town, and when she's in one of these tantrums, 
 there's no getting along with her. The old man 
 has his streaks, too. He's learned and wise and 
 all that, but he's pig-headed. You will observe 
 that frankness is a characteristic in this neighbor 
 hood. I spoke to you about a plan, you remember. 
 Unfortunately I haven't the language to express 
 what I think; the forms that trip through my brain 
 leave but their shoes, and when I attempt to 
 present these forms, what is the result? A collec 
 tion of foot-wear. Now, the value of an article 
 depends upon the material of which it is made, or 
 rather composed. I try to be a gentleman. What 
 I am trying to get at is this: I have devoted my 
 life to scientific agriculture, and I have been 
 appealing not to men but to clods. I say, 'give 
 me a- reasonable compensation for my services. ' 
 They don't catch my meaning. Now, I have ideas 
 that are worth hundreds and thousands of dollars 
 to other men. Then why shouldn't they be worth 
 something to me. I don't ask much, understand; 
 simply a reasonable compensation."
 
 I0 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Well,"'Hawley replied, "what's your plan?" 
 
 "You don't seem to catch my meaning," saicj 
 Willis. "Now, I know that I could be of the 
 greatest use to you, apply my system and make 
 your farm the wonder of the country?" 
 
 "What is your system?" 
 
 "There you go again. As I said before, the 
 value of an article depends upon the material of 
 which it is composed but I will come over and 
 talk to you some time when I feel that I'm clearer. 
 The truth is that as an agent for another, I am 
 forcible and clear, with courage enough to fight a 
 bear; but acting in my own behalf, I am shy, awk 
 ward, cramped and unfitted for the position." 
 
 "If I only knew what you were trying to get at I 
 could tell you in a moment whether or not I care 
 to entertain your proposition." 
 
 "Ah, but we must not be too sudden. I will 
 work over my proposition until every speck of 
 extraneous matter is eliminated. Then I will 
 submit it to you. Well, I will leave you here. 
 Good night."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 That night Hawley wrote a long letter to old 
 Dr. Ford. "I suppose," he said, "that I am getting 
 the sort of rest that you advised. Nothing could 
 be further from excitement than the daily life I 
 lead. I don't know that I can go so far as to term 
 it life. Sometimes I feel that I am in the center 
 of a boundless domain of stillness, faintly catching 
 sounds that do not disturb but which merely call 
 attention to silence. Just at this moment the clamor 
 of Chicago would be music to me, and yet I must 
 say that I enjoy my present state of existence. I 
 do not feel that I am fully awake; I feel as one 
 who, having sat up late, comes down to the break 
 fast table and sits there, musing. But I don't sup 
 pose you care to have me analyze my fancies; you 
 want to know how I am situated and how I am im 
 pressed. Except for that kinship of history and 
 tradition, together with the characteristics that 
 
 belong alone to the American, I should think that 
 
 101
 
 102 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 I had come to a foreign country. And why should 
 I think this? Because this part of the country, 
 njore American than the North, is strange to me. 
 Here the influence of the foreigner has not been 
 felt; and how different from the harsh jargon 
 which we hear amid the out-landish intermixture 
 of people in a great city, is the soft accent given 
 by the Tennesseean to our mother tongue. It can 
 no more be spslled than the notes of a bird can be 
 accurately put down; it is beyond the printer's 
 inflection the phonograph alone can catch it. 
 
 "How close together this country has been 
 brought, and yet how willfully we misunderstand 
 one another. The East. is astonished, or pretends 
 to be, at the progress and culture which it finds in 
 the West; the West often misrepresents the South, 
 and we all of us resent the criticisms of the English. 
 But it does seem to me that nature has placed the 
 stamp of oddity on every man I have met here. 
 After all, though, men of marked individuality are 
 more often found in the country than in the city, 
 and it may also be that in the city we rarely take 
 enough interest in a man to discover an individu 
 ality. At any rate I am constantly meeting char-
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 1 03 
 
 acters. One of them is touched with insanity and 
 he wants me to build a university for him ; another 
 is the most wordy and intangible man I have ever 
 seen; and still another is an old judge whom I 
 should like you to meet. He seems to be well- 
 read, and in his own way, deeply to have studied 
 man; yet he has not learned man's greatest lesson, 
 the mastery of self. Years ago a tricky politician 
 beat him out of the nomination for supreme judge 
 of his state and, to this hour, he is stimulated by 
 the hope that he may meet the fellow and spill his 
 blood. He has the pagan's vengeance but believes 
 it to be a Christian virtue. And I must say that I 
 can't help liking him. Somehow, I can't explain 
 why, he has forced me to respect his prejudices; 
 and I shouldn't wonder that if after a while I might 
 fall so completely into sympathy with him as to 
 wish him success in all that he longs for. The old 
 man has a granddaughter and a shrew of a wife. 
 The girl, I might say, is a romp. At least her phys 
 ical liveliness impels her far in that direction; 
 and yet she is not rude of manner. Her hair is 
 as red as an anarchist's flag, and her eyes, as I 
 now shut my own and reproduce them, are of an
 
 I0 4 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 undefined color that exists somewhere between 
 blue and violet. I know nothing of the quality of 
 her mind. She talked but I heard only the sweet 
 ness of her voice. 
 
 "I am going ahead with the improvement of my 
 farm, and of course I take a pride in the work, but 
 at times I feel so heavy a sense of loneliness that 
 I am tempted to hustle to my den in Randolph 
 street. But this, I know will wear away." 
 
 The hour was growing late; he had just closed 
 his letter when there came a startling knock at his 
 door. He hastened to open it and when he did, 
 the lamp-light fell upon the professor of moral 
 philosophy. 
 
 "Excuse me, but may I come in?" 
 
 "Certainly," said Hawley. 
 
 "I know it is rude to disturb you at such a time 
 of night," the Professor remarked, stepping into 
 the room, "but I had to break the silence with 
 some one, and not with a fool, a clod, but with a 
 man." 
 
 "Sit down," said Hawley. 
 
 "I thank you for your generous courtesy, sir." 
 
 He sat down and for a time leaned over and
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 held his head in his hands. "I didn't come to talk 
 about the university," he declared. "To-night I 
 have been tortured into a zone far beyond the con 
 fines of a business transaction. I went to bed and 
 tried to sleep but couldn't; the dead silence of my 
 room tied itself about my neck and choked me." 
 He leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes 
 upward. Suddenly he broke out with this impre 
 cation: "The devil is an infernal fool!" 
 
 "If a fool at all," Hawley replied, "he must be 
 an infernal fool ; but he is generally credited with 
 being dangerously wise." 
 
 "Yes, generally accredited so by those who are 
 fools themselves," the professor rejoined. "What 
 has he done to improve his opportunities? He is 
 acknowledged to be the master of all evil, but for 
 thousands of years he has remained satisfied with 
 the reputation of his early days. This is not con 
 sistent with power, with satanic logic." He gave 
 himself to brief though troubled meditation and 
 then said: "Suppose that everything which God 
 has been called upon to damn had been damned? 
 Think of it!" he almost shouted. "Would there 
 be a man living in the world, and would there be a
 
 IO6 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 thing existing. There would be no inventions, for 
 the inventor, harassed by the repeated disappoint 
 ments that nearly always precede success, has, in 
 the hour of despair, called upon the Lord to damn 
 his machine. A man drives a nail and mashes his 
 finger. Then what does he do? He calls down 
 a curse upon the hammer and the nail; and so I 
 affirm that man has damned everything, and if the 
 appeal of his passion and his anger had met with 
 response, the gates of torment would burst with 
 the pressure of the rubbish within. Cows, horses, 
 mules, nails, hammers, saws, cooking stoves, tin 
 pans, dogs, cats, shirt collars, shoe strings, buttons, 
 human beings, oceans, rivers, patent medicines, 
 newspapers, hot weather, cold weather all, 
 damned by the wish of man, would be packed 
 within the bulging walls of perdition." 
 
 "Professor, don't you think you'd better go to 
 bed?" Hawley asked. 
 
 "What, and be burnt by the pillows and scorched 
 by the sheets? No, I want to walk abroad and I 
 want you to walk with me." 
 
 "No, not to-night." 
 
 "Not to-night, when you know that you will
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 suffocate here? Under the moon somewhere there 
 is a cool and quiet place a place, perhaps, that 
 man has not called upon God to damn. But this 
 place has been damned, many and many a time. 
 Let me out." 
 
 He jumped from the chair, threw open the door 
 with a slam and was lost in the darkness. 
 There was a rumble as if a storm were coming, 
 and Hawley heard Aunt Lily going about the 
 house, closing down the windows. He called her 
 and when she had come, he said to her: "The 
 professor was here a moment ago, and he's as wild 
 as a mountain hog. Do you think there's any 
 danger of his killing himself?" 
 
 "Oh, none er tall, sah ; not de leas' in de worl'. 
 He git dat way some times but it soon w'ar off. 
 Da had 'im in de silum once, but da lowed dar 
 want no use in keepin' 'im dar. He'll be all right 
 by ter-mar. Lem me caution you ter put down de 
 winders in dis room ef de rain comes an' I think 
 hit will. Is dar anythin' else you wanted, sah?" 
 
 "No, nothing else." 
 
 "Does you fee.1 like eatin' er snack? Dar's plenty 
 cooked out yander."
 
 108 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "No, I don't care for anything." 
 "Wall, you'sepuffectly welcome ter hit ef you 
 does. Good night."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The grass is still green and the leaves are but 
 slightly turning, but the low and languorous hum of 
 the insect has been keyed to a sharp, snappy cry. 
 The sun is still hot and the cows still stand in the 
 pond where the shade falls at noon-time, but as we 
 walk abroad in the woodland, an impression seems 
 to fall from above like a dead leaf; and this im 
 pression is the regretful feeling that summer is at 
 an end. The warm weather that now may follow 
 is but an unseasonable flush. Down the dry 
 branch in the valley we hear the wind sighing, and 
 we know that the next rain will throw a chill on 
 the air. 
 
 The carpenters and laborers that had been 
 summoned to repair the out-houses and mend the 
 stone-walls of Ingleview were done with their work, 
 and so completely was the old stock-farm brought 
 back to life that only here and there, in by-places, 
 
 remained the evidences of its wasted and decaying 
 
 109
 
 HO A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 state. Hawley had become well acquainted with 
 the social life of the community. He had gone to 
 barbecues, had eaten shote on the grass, had 
 caught the smile of mothers who were leading 
 their daughters to market; had listened with pre 
 tended concern to the candidate who had his. 
 memory on Henry Clay and his eye on Congress 
 He fell or lolled over into the easy ways of the 
 town, but he soon discovered that with all their 
 good-natured, engaging talk, the people were sharp 
 when it came to a trade. In their homes they 
 spoke not of business; there the guest was received 
 with a refined and gracious hospitality, but at the 
 "store" they weighed out their groceries with the 
 nicest precision, and in a transaction which involved 
 a horse, they evinced a quick perception and a 
 tricky shrewdness. 
 
 Into the Judge's house Hawley was welcomed 
 with the easy intimacy of established friendship. 
 He caught the humor of the place, its moods, 
 frettings, prejudices, and slyly laughed at them. 
 And the girl, with equal slyness, helped him along 
 with his mirth. At times Mrs. Trapnell was so 
 smooth as to appear positively glossed with
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE III 
 
 urbanity. The county paper, with its death-notices 
 of old acquaintances, toned her to appreciative 
 gentleness. It was then that she might permit the 
 Judge's old dog to lie in the hall, with never a 
 shout or a rush with a broom or a threat to take 
 off his hide with hot water. But at other times, 
 though, her temper was as frowzy as the feathers 
 of a rough grouse. 
 
 One afternoon she whisked into a room where 
 the Judge sat, reading. The moment he heard her 
 he knew that something was wrong and he put his 
 book aside. 
 
 "What's the matter now?" he asked. 
 
 "Oh, you are concerned enough to inquire, are 
 you? I didn't think you cared that much." 
 
 "Now, madam, what's the use of talking that 
 way? If there's anything wrong tell me and if I 
 can help it I will." 
 
 "Yes, that's what you always say but you never 
 do. Here I stick all the time and nobody cares 
 whether I go off the place or not. I just won't 
 stand it any longer." 
 
 "I don't know that anybody has been trying to 
 keep you from going off the place, madam. There 
 are horses and a carriage out yonder."
 
 112 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 She bowed mockingly and said: "Indeed! Oh, 
 I suppose I could drive up and down the pike, but 
 who wants to do that?" 
 
 "But what law compels you to drive up and 
 down the pike?" 
 
 She looked at him scornfully. "What else could 
 I do? I've got nothing to wear." 
 
 "But whose fault is that? There are stores in 
 .town." 
 
 Then she began to cry. The judge got up. "By 
 the Eternal, madam, you are enough to make a 
 saint turn about and rend his religion. Go ahead 
 and whimper now till you have whimpered yourself 
 out." 
 
 "I don't know why I ever married you," she 
 whined. 
 
 "And by the Eternal, if you ever do strike that 
 key-note, sound it once for me. I don't know 
 what^to do; I don't know what you want." 
 
 "Oh, I know you hate me," she whined. "I 
 know you wish me dead." 
 
 "You are trying your best, madam, to have me 
 do so." 
 
 "You never did love me."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 113 
 
 "Now that's detestable nonsense. Come sit 
 down here," he said in tones quickly softened, 
 "and tell me what the trouble is." 
 
 She suffered him to take her by the arm and 
 together they sat down on a sofa. "Now tell me 
 what's gone wrong?" 
 
 "Oh, everything, and besides it's so lonesome 
 out here. It wouldn't cost any more to live in 
 town." 
 
 His brow wrinkled with a frown; it was the out 
 ward show of an inward struggle. "Mandy, I had 
 so earnestly hoped that you would never mention 
 that again. You know that I was born here." 
 
 "But people don't have to live where they were 
 born, do they?" 
 
 "A capital argument, by the Eternal; a home- 
 thrust of logic." 
 
 He got up and with his hands held behind him, 
 walked about the room. And thus he went on: 
 "In one particular, man, it matters not how wise 
 he may be, is dough-brained .and learns not by 
 experience. He attempts to reason with a woman 
 who scorning argument, talks from pettish impulse." 
 
 "I am not as dough-brained as you think, sir." 
 
 Tennessee Judge 8
 
 114 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 He wheeled about and looked at her. "There 
 you go, listening to no reason but snapping at a 
 sound. Mandy, you can be so gentle and so com 
 forting at times. Summon your other self and 
 keep her near me, and banish forever the self you 
 now present. Between your two selves, I am 
 dragged about from a heaven to a hell. I am very 
 old perhaps," he broke off, "this is the reason 
 that you are beginning to despise me." 
 
 "Judge, please don't talk that way." 
 
 "Yes, you are beginning to despise me and to 
 brow-beat me more and more, and all because I 
 have out-lived my time and continue to stumble in 
 this new generation." 
 
 He covered his face with his wrinkled hands. 
 
 "Please forgive me," 'she implored, springing 
 from the sofa and throwing her arms about him. 
 "I wouldn't wound that great heart of yours 
 that noble soul! Of course you mustn't sell this 
 old place; we couldn't find another that would suit 
 us half as well. No place in town would, I'm sure." 
 
 Ida came into the room with a bound, but catch 
 ing the scene, she stepped back and said: "Don't 
 let me interrupt you, but Mr. Hawley's in the 
 parlor."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE I I 5 
 
 The Judge, as though with a tangible grasp, 
 snatched unto himself the stiffness of a stately 
 though courteous dignity and, his wife, in a flutter 
 of haste, dried her eyes and wiped from her face 
 the marks of tender repentance. 
 
 "Glad to see you," said the Judge, entering the 
 parlor. 
 
 "Delighted," declared Mrs. Trapnell. "The 
 Judge and I were just this minute talking about 
 you. Now, you know we were, Judge," she quickly 
 added, shaking her finger at the old gentleman. 
 "Please do tell me the news. I haven't heard a 
 thing for a week. Oh, I suppose you heard of 
 Miss Lester's marriage; did so well, too. And isn't 
 it too bad that Captain Haynes had his collar-bone 
 broken? We never know what next to expect, 
 I'm sure. Wasn't the death of Mrs. Marvin awful? 
 The Lord knows what those poor little children 
 will do without her. Ida, bring Mr. Hawley a 
 drink of water. I know he must be thirsty."' 
 
 "You'd better bring some mint, Ida," was the 
 Judge's amendment to this command. 
 
 "I don't mind going after it, gramper," she re 
 plied, "but I think the mint bed is all dried up."
 
 Il6 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "But will you go and see?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, but I was there yesterday, and it was 
 all yellow." 
 
 "But will you go?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I said I would. Now, what are you 
 laughing at, Mr. Hawley?" 
 
 As her stock of argument was exhausted, as 
 there was now no turn except in the direction of 
 obedience, she hastened away as one moved by 
 impulse; and Mrs.- Trapnell, a moment later, 
 suddenly declared: "Gracious, I do believe she 
 has fallen down the steps. No, she hasn' teither. 
 I declare, she keeps me scared half thet ime. 
 We can't trust her on a horse she'll gallop 
 him right over a fence. I've done my best to tone 
 her down, I'm sure." 
 
 "Oh, she isn't so wild," said the Judge. "She 
 takes strongly after her father, and he was as high- 
 spirited as a prancing horse. There's his picture," 
 he added, pointing to a portrait which Hawley 
 had often noticed, hanging above the mantle-piece. 
 
 "Yes," Hawley remarked, "you told me about 
 him some time ago when I asked you about the 
 picture." Was the visitor, with the Chicago man's
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 dread of a long story repeated, in a fear that the 
 old man would again tell him that his son had won 
 distinction at the bar, married a handsome woman, 
 that she had died within two years, and that- the 
 son had then gone to the Black Hills where he was 
 murdered by a ruffian? 
 
 "So I did," said the Judge; and after a moment 
 he added: "To much restraint sows the seeds of 
 hypocrisy. Take the preacher as an example. He 
 is under the watchful eye of a community, and as 
 a result, his children are subjected to a suppression 
 of what he regards as an undue outbreak of animal 
 life. And whose children, let me ask, are more 
 likely to be mean and deceitful?" 
 
 ."I am not prepared and neither am I inclined to 
 dispute the point with you," Hawley replied. "I 
 think the worst wooling I ever got was by two 
 boys, the sons of a clergyman." 
 
 The Judge grunted. "Ha," said he, "I remem 
 ber and as well as if it had been yesterday that 
 when a boy I was swimming in the creek, right down 
 yonder, when along came the son of a Hard Shell 
 Baptist preacher. What did he do? He snatched 
 off his clothes, jumped in and by the Eternal, he 
 tried to drown me."
 
 IT 8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Being the son of a Baptist," Hawley replied, 
 "he naturally took to immersion." 
 
 "Yes, I gad, sir, and having been held under the 
 rod all his life he naturally took to deviltry when 
 he got away from home. Well, did you find any 
 mint?" he asked as Ida entered the room. 
 
 "Yes, sir, but I really didn't expect to. It isn't 
 very fresh, after all." 
 
 "Nonsense, child, it's as fresh as a shower. 
 Let me see," he added, looking at his watch, "it's 
 hardly my time to take a drink yet." 
 
 "But perhaps it's Mr. Hawley's time," Mrs. 
 Trapnell suggested. 
 
 "No," Hawley replied, "I have no regular time." 
 
 "Well, then," said the Judge, "we'll wait a while. 
 Put the mint in some cold water and let it brew a 
 while. Hawley, I suppose you notice that I never 
 send a negro after mint. And now, sir, I'll tell you 
 what's a fact. You may trust a negro with your 
 horse, and sometimes you may even let him wan 
 der out of your sight with your money, but you 
 can't trust him with mint. I don't know why it is, 
 but if there's but one yellow sprig in the bed he'll 
 get it; and not only this, he's likely in pulling
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE IIQ 
 
 up the mint to bring along rank grass or even 
 smart weed." 
 
 "I received a letter the other day from my old 
 friend Dr. Ford," Hawley remarked, "and he takes 
 occasion to examine the negro problem in the 
 South." 
 
 "Hah, he does, eh." The old man looked as 
 though he had just heard that some one had in 
 fringed upon one of his rights. "What does he 
 know about the negro problem in the South; and 
 who shall say that there is a negro problem in the 
 South? Here is a race that is compelled to work 
 for a living. Is that a problem any more than the 
 condition of the working people throughout the 
 country? The negro's all right ; just let him alone. 
 But I will admit that at times he is a disturbing 
 element in politics; so is the Irishman. But the 
 negro never excites a labor revolt, and rarely does 
 he follow when one has been excited. If it hadn't 
 been for that un-ripe decision, that near-sighted 
 act which gave him the right to vote so soon after 
 having been a slave, the negro would have met 
 with no trouble whatever." 
 
 It was a moment before Hawley replied, and
 
 I2O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 when he did, his voice was so solemn and his words 
 were so measured that the old man looked at him 
 in astonishment. "It is a religion with me to be 
 lieve that Lincoln stands next to Jesus Christ," he 
 said. 
 
 A silence followed. The old man saw that his 
 visitor's conviction was indeed a religion with him, 
 that it was as a root that had grown to the very 
 bottom of his nature. The image of old Jackson 
 flew to his mind. Again he saw him, grave and 
 severe in his greatness, standing amid a reverential 
 throng at the Hermitage, above flattery, the devotee 
 of truth, the defender of honor, an instrument 
 through which God flashed His own awful wrath. 
 But it was not possible that he could make other 
 men see this majestic picture; and with deep devo 
 tion he blurred the scene and simply said: "Yes, 
 Lincoln was a great man ; and he was a Southerner, 
 too." 
 
 Mrs. Trapnell had stepped out into the hall. 
 "Judge, please come here a minute;" she called 
 and when he joined her she asked: "Is it possible 
 that you're blind?" 
 
 "Blind! I don't understand you."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 12 1 
 
 "Is it possible that you can't see?" 
 
 "See what?" 
 
 "Oh, can't you see that he has come to call on 
 Ida?" 
 
 "Why, I hadn't thought of such a thing. Why 
 didn't you tell me?" 
 
 "Because I didn't know it until just this minute." 
 
 "Well, but how do you know it now, if that's 
 the case?"' 
 
 "I know it well enough. Come, we'll walk in 
 the garden." 
 
 "We will, but first let me excuse myself. But 
 I don't know that I want Ida to receive company 
 at her age." 
 
 "Oh, she's been going to balls and parties for a 
 year. Oh, Mr. Hawley, the Judge and I are going 
 out for a moment. Excuse us, please," 
 
 Ida sat on the piano stool, leaning back. How 
 careless she was and how shapely, too; with the 
 natural grace of a young leopard, with the frank 
 ness of unconcerned innocence, and yet with a 
 laughing, good-humored shrewdness, an intuition 
 wiser than a moral lesson, conscious of respectable 
 lineage and therefore inclined to be adventurous;
 
 122 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 at one moment a woman and at the next moment a 
 child. The glow of her hair gave a warmth of 
 color to her neck, and Hawley, as he sat looking 
 at her, thought that he had never seen so capti 
 vating a picture. She blushed at the silence that 
 fell between them, and then laughed at it; she 
 swung one foot, and then realizing that she had 
 received him as "company," she sought to dignify 
 herself by making a sober remark. 
 
 "You have some very queer neighbors near you," 
 she said. 
 
 "Yes, particularly John Roark and his sister, the 
 widow Binson." 
 
 "Do they come over to see you?" 
 
 "Yes, quite frequently." 
 
 "She doesn't come, does she?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. Strange sort of woman, don't you 
 think so?" 
 
 "I don't know much about her. They don't 
 really belong here don't know where they came 
 from. They have been living here some time, and, 
 gramper says, they rent first one farm and then 
 another. We sometimes plague grams by telling 
 her that her cousin Charley Willis tried to marry
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 1 23 
 
 the widow, and I don't know but it's true. Gramper 
 says that he has been married just enough times 
 not to care how many more-times he does get mar 
 ried. Do you read many books?" 
 
 "No, not a great many. I take the magazines 
 and try to make it a point to keep up with the new 
 books of importance." 
 
 "Did you ever read St. Elmo?" 
 
 "I tried to a number of years ago, but it was too 
 wordy for me." 
 
 "I used to think it was the greatest book ever 
 written," she said. "I didn't mind its wordiness; 
 I was after its romance. I remember my chum 
 and I at school used to steal out of bed and try to 
 read it by the moon. They wouldn't let us have 
 a light. I found it the other day and tried to read 
 it but my taste for it was gone. I suppose it's be 
 cause we want truth as we grow older. Now, what 
 are you laughing at ? You are always laughing at 
 me. Don't you suppose I'm old enough to want 
 truth? I am." 
 
 "Oh, of course I know you want truth, but I 
 didn't suppose you had passed the romantic age." 
 
 "Well, I haven't done that; I don't believe any-
 
 124 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 body does. But even romance must have some 
 truth. Girls read stronger books than they used 
 to; and though they may be just as innocent, yet 
 they know more than they did." 
 
 "Yes," Hawley replied, "and that is as it should 
 be, since knowledge is the protector of both men 
 and women. But I don't like to see a young girl 
 over wise, as we often find them in the cities, for 
 in all wisdom there is a tincture of cynicism." 
 
 "But it may be possible to catch the wisdom 
 and miss the tincture." 
 
 He looked at her and smiled. Was this the child 
 that had been sitting there, swinging her foot? 
 
 The supper bell rang. "Come," said the Judge, 
 looking in the door, "our juleps are ready."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Hawley walked through the fields, on his way 
 home. Strange and unwonted thoughts, jumbled 
 and half formed, rushed through his mind. Some 
 times with swift stride he ripped through the dead, 
 tangled clover, and then with strolling pace he 
 moved slowly along. Darkness lay upon the land 
 scape and the distant timber was a border of total 
 blackness. Autumn was in the air, with its sud 
 den puffs of coolness, but tranquillity was not in 
 the air. A man's strong emotions were surging, 
 like water that leaps and falls under a wind. No 
 meditative walk in the fields of Elysia was this; 
 no sweet musing over the beauty, the freshness of 
 a smile, but a half-mad fight, a rebellion, a passion 
 almost enraged at itself. The common sense im 
 bued by a practical, commercial school, flew to 
 pieces like glass smashed by a heavy blow. The 
 strong blood of viking ancestors, cool so long in the 
 chilly veins of trade, now leaped with heat. Who
 
 126 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 is so frenzied a religionist as the man that has been 
 an infidel; who so visionary a spiritualist as one 
 that has turned from materialism? Man may 
 reason and find conversion in the light of his own 
 argument; ideas like a flight of birds may fill this 
 modern air; science, thought, exactness of speech, 
 precision of conduct, a mountain top of intellectual 
 training may be reached and yet, a strong man's 
 love, fashioned unconsciously and then suddenly 
 electrified with life, is much of a madness as it 
 was when the breath of Almighty creation had just 
 been breathed upon the earth. 
 
 He passed through the clover-land and had 
 reached the old race-track when a form, darker 
 than the night, crossed his path. 
 
 "Who's that?" . 
 
 "A loiterer on the face of the earth," a voice 
 answered. ' 
 
 "Is it you, Professor?" 
 
 "Yes, and I am abroad, feeling of the night's dull 
 pulse." 
 
 "I greet you, old man. I am almost as mad as 
 you are." 
 
 They stood facing each other. "Reason may
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 run wild and yet it is not madness, sir," the Pro 
 fessor replied "May I walk with you?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, and talk in crazy harmony with my 
 thoughts." 
 
 "Mr. Hawley, are you drunk?" 
 
 They walked along in silence. "Mr. Hawley, I 
 say you are drunk." 
 
 "I am." 
 
 "Mint juleps, Mr. Hawley?" 
 
 "Yes, and the mint was gathered in the garden 
 of Eden." 
 
 "And where did the liquor come from?" 
 
 "Perhaps from the original distillery." 
 
 "Where is that, Mr. Hawley?" 
 
 "In hell." 
 
 "Mr. Hawley, you are not only drunk; but 
 applying my moral philosophy, I should say that 
 you are as crazy as a bat." 
 
 Hawley laughed and reason, thus summoned, 
 returned to him. "No, I'm not crazy, Professor.- 
 I was simply amusing myself." 
 
 "It is well to turn it off, Mr. Hawley, but some 
 thing was on your mind. That laugh probably 
 saved you a thousand groans. But wait till we
 
 128 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 build our university; then we'll investigate all this. 
 We'll show the strong man that after all he is a 
 pitiable weakling. At one moment he may drive 
 a bargain that will scrape the skin off his adversary; 
 the next moment the mischief dancing in a bright 
 eye may rob him of his reason." He stopped 
 abruptly and said: "An awful thought came to 
 me back there. It wasn't a thought; it was a 
 realization. It was this: What is the sea but 
 the tears that have been shed by the sorrowing 
 children of men? The sea has its tide, and what 
 is that but the emotion, the grief swell that is still 
 alive in those briny drops? Wait!" Hawley started 
 to go on but the Professor rudely held him back. 
 
 "Think of this, for we are going to teach it in 
 our philosophy." 
 
 "All right, Professor, I'll think of it." 
 
 "Will you? Then with God's blessing, I will 
 bid you good-night." 
 
 Hawley, upon reaching home, found the negro 
 Ben and the morphine eater, sitting on a bench in 
 the yard, disputing with each other. 
 
 "I ain't claimin' ter cut off nobody's laig," the 
 negro "physician" declared. "I cures de flesh but
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE I2Q 
 
 I ain' got much truck wid de bone. You cuts de 
 bone, but you kain lift up de heaviness o' de flesh. 
 Skuze me, sah, but look out dar Mr. Hawley 
 come in one o' callin' 'im Mars Bob er gin I.say 
 look out dar, an' doan kick ober dat kittle o' 
 medicine. I'se jest b'iled it an' has put it dar ter 
 cool. Monstus sick pusson ober de creek needs it 
 right now." 
 
 "And I pity him when he gets it," said Dr. Moffet. 
 
 "Oh, you 'tends ter, but you knows you 'gratu- 
 latin' 'im right now. Man wants ter git well; darfo 
 he sont fur me. But neber mine, Dock; w'en he 
 gits all his er fars straightened up an' wants ter 
 bid farwell ter dis yere yeth, he mout sen' fur you 
 sometime." 
 
 Moffet turned to Hawley. "If you don't make 
 this black rascal cease insulting me, I'll hurt him." 
 
 "I ain' 'sultin' you, sah. Mr. Hawley kin see 
 dat. It's jest er little skussion 'tween two doctors 
 da doan 'long ter de same school. I doan blame 
 you fur stickin 'ter yo' school." 
 
 "School!" the Doctor scornfully repeated; "you 
 never saw a school. You are an ignorant pretender 
 and if the officers of the law had any respect for 
 the community they would lock you up." 
 
 9
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Yas, sahj dat's one view o' de case, one view by 
 de uder school. An' I'll say right yere dat I reckon 
 you kin out argy me, caze de school dat I 'longs 
 ter would ruther cure a pusson up den ter talk 'im 
 down. Cose we kain all 'long ter de same school, 
 an' I doan blame you fur goin' off dar wharyouis." 
 Aunt Lily opened a door and stood there, holding 
 a lamp. "Why, dar's Miss Lily, sheddin' light 
 on de subjeck." 
 
 "Hush, triflin' man, I ain' got no time ter talk 
 wid you," she replied. "White folks claimin' all 
 my time now. Mr. Hawley is dat you out dar? 
 W'y, sah, dar's comp'ny in de big room ter see 
 you." 
 
 "You mean the library, don't you?" 
 
 "Yas, sah, you mout call it dat, but it's de big 
 room all de same. Ben, I ain' gwine gib you er 
 mouf'l ter eat in de mawnin' lessen you git me 
 some wood dis bery night. Da's been yere some 
 little time waitin' fur you, Mr. Hawley. Bless de 
 Lawd, de win' dun blowed out my lamp." 
 
 In the library Hawley found John Roark and 
 his sister, the widow Binson. He did not like 
 them, the sight of them angered him, and if he
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 131 
 
 treated them with politeness it was not without a 
 strong effort. Roark's manner was offensive, with 
 an abruptness which he thought to play for good 
 nature; he was burly and red, was loud in his talk 
 of the majesty of the people, aspired to be a leader 
 among the lowly, sought petty office and at one 
 time had stirred up trouble at the polls. Like all 
 men who disgust the thoughtful, he had disciples 
 among the thoughtless. 
 
 His sister was a skinny, repellent, shrewd-look 
 ing creature. She rejoiced that the day of woman's 
 emancipation was coming, and talked on delicate 
 subjects with the freedom of a surgeon. She was 
 past thirty, had buried a husband, desired to catch 
 another and was now casting her net. Unim 
 portant this brother and sister appeared to Hawley, 
 and yet in his drama they were to play near the 
 foot-lights. 
 
 They were making themselves at home when the 
 master of the house entered the room; the brother 
 was smoking and the sister was eating something 
 which Aunt Lily had brought in on a plate! Roark 
 jumped up and bellowed, "Oh, here you are. 
 Thought you'd run away; glad you haven't.
 
 !22 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 Couldn't get along without you now that we've got 
 used to you. Nan and I thought we'd drop in. 
 Didn't know but you might be lonesome." 
 
 The woman put the plate away, wiped her mouth, 
 smirked and at once began: "We are so uncon 
 ventional, you know. I can't bear form; oh, I do 
 detest it. Woman has always been the slave of 
 form, so I say, let us be natural. You are looking 
 so well, Mr. Hawley. This part of the country 
 must agree with you. I declare, how you have 
 fixed up this place. I told John as we came along 
 that I scarcely recognized it. So nice to have 
 money enough to carry out your wishes. So bad 
 to be hampered in everything. Have I got your 
 favorite chair?" 
 
 "No, sit down. It's turned warmer," he added, 
 seating himself. 
 
 "Well, no; I was telling John just now that 'it 
 had turned cooler." 
 
 "Probably it has," he dryly agreed. 
 
 Thus they talked, saying nothing. The old clock 
 whanged, and whanged the time away; Aunt Lily 
 was heard making her nightly rounds, closing the 
 doors, and still these tiresome visitors sat and
 
 A TENNSSSEE JUDGE 133 
 
 gabbled breathed a weariness upon each lagging 
 moment. If Hawley's thoughts flew away they 
 were seized and brought back with a jerk; if in a 
 moment of silence he dreamed, he awoke with a 
 night-mare. 
 
 At last they were gone, and after shutting the 
 door upon them, he sat down to think. An image 
 was in his soul and he gazed upon it, dazzled. 
 Reason came as a critic, and pointed out flaws, 
 but the criticism was rejected; the cold, technical 
 terms of the anatomist must not be applied to the 
 form of Venus. 
 
 He wrote to Dr. Ford: "I am in love," he said, 
 "and I shall discuss no problem with you. You 
 may regard it a miracle if I even write with a 
 modicum of good sense. You regard me as a man 
 of a certain sort of action rather than a man of 
 thought, and in a strict sense I know that I am not 
 a thinker, but after all who thinks more intently 
 than the man of action, and who is more disturbed 
 by thought? You have often talked to me about 
 marriage, recognizing it as a sort of advantage, and 
 you have spoken of the suitability of temperament, 
 but you have never even hinted at love. I believe
 
 134 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 you did say something about physical infatuation. 
 I was unconcerned and paid but slight attention. 
 But now I am concerned and I grope back and 
 fumble among your words. Don't the newspapers 
 nearly every day tell us of some man who has taken 
 his own life because his heart has been wrung. I 
 read last week of a man, educated, prosperous, 
 high in public estimation, who went to the grave 
 of a girl whom he loved and there slew himself. 
 And yet in this Edisonian age if we use the word 
 love we must do so with a sneer or be laughed at. 
 But I have not sat down to argue with you, but 
 to confide in you. In several of my letters I spoke 
 of the Judge's granddaughter. I have often visited 
 the Judge, and am of course well acquainted with 
 the girl, but not until a few hours ago did I know 
 that I loved her. You will say that this is rank 
 nonesense, and I admit that I can't explain it. j 
 don't know that we are suited to each other; j 
 don't know that she ever gave me a serious thought; 
 I am much older than she is; but I do know that 
 as I sat this afternoon and looked at her, I sud 
 denly felt that I would give the world to possess 
 her. Is this a physical infatuation? I spoke idle
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 1 35 
 
 words, I even laughed, but to-night as I was coming 
 through the fields, an emotion, a passion almost 
 mad, seized me and swayed me. There is much 
 of the barbarian in me; you have often told me 
 that I was too impulsive to be civilized; and a 
 recollection of this stuck into .me like a splinter as 
 I struggled with myself in the fields. Why strug 
 gle? I don't know. I thought of no difficulty to 
 be overcome, of no fight against odds; in my 
 strength, in my head-long vanity, believed that 
 nothing could stand in my way, and yet I struggled 
 with myself. What am I going to do? I am 
 going to marry her. Has she nothing to say? She 
 may have, but if it is in opposition she needn't say 
 it. There's egotism for you. But I am going to 
 give her time. Yes, and I am going to give myself 
 time. I must know whether my love is enduring 
 or fitful. I rebelled against her; I tried to fight 
 myself free from her image, there in the fields, but 
 could not. Now I shall wait."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Cold wind blew from the north and the brown 
 leaves lay in drifts. Strange birds came whirling 
 through the bleak air of night, and sought to warm 
 themselves under the eaves of the house; morning 
 dawned with a spitting of snow, and screaming, 
 they resumed their flight. Axes rang in the woods, 
 shouting boys and yelping dogs roamed over the 
 fields; the creek, bordered with ice, ran with chilly 
 rippling; the horses were frisky in the barn-lot; 
 old cows pranced on the frozen ground. And at 
 midnight, from far away on the hill-side where the 
 under-brush was tangled, came the thrilling notes 
 of the fox-hound. 
 
 Hawley often sat by the log fire in the Judge's 
 house. But sitting by the fire or walking abroad 
 the image of the girl was ever before him. He 
 had waited, as he had said that he would, .but in 
 this portrait not a tint had faded, not a hair-line 
 of color had been dimmed. His love surrounded 
 
 136
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 137 
 
 her with a mystery and musing upon it he perplexed 
 himself. He found her so different from other 
 human beings, and he did not know that what he 
 took to be a sort of divine oddity was simply the 
 spray of his own imagination. He was not so 
 strong as he had been, not so full of the essence of 
 irrisistible conquest as he was at the time when 
 he told Dr. Ford that if she had anything to say in 
 opposition, she might as well hold it unsaid. She 
 had puzzled him. If her regard for him was warmer 
 than mere friendship, how could she remain so 
 carelessly at ease when he came near her? He felt 
 that he had thrown his yearning mind upon her, 
 to read her in its searching light, and that with 
 nymphal grace she had ambled from under it. 
 What was then left for him to do? Nothing. 
 What was left for him to feel? A sick resentment. 
 Ah, the old road, older than the lane, the first 
 path-way made by the foot of man, bestrewn with 
 the human heart's first tender foibles, with the 
 lamps of man's earliest fancy burning here and 
 there and with darkness lying cold between them 
 the uneven road of love. There is many a 
 short cut, many a bramble to be avoided, but the
 
 X38 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 mind that sees the near route is practical with close 
 calculation, and dull is the soul that misses the 
 briar. 
 
 In reply to Hawley's confession, Dr. Ford had 
 said: "My dear boy, you have struggled to prove 
 that the sun shines. You amuse me, and yet I 
 herewith send you a rose-bud which you will please 
 put into the vase, along with your newly-bloomed 
 sentiment. I have never talked to you about love! 
 You make me laugh. Why, when I saw you last 
 you believed more in the potency of a breach of 
 promise suit than in the existence of that deep, 
 inner disturbance which we know as love. But 
 let me say to you that even in love, when you 
 imagine that your soul is a burning mountain, it 
 is well to be sensible, or at least to make the 
 attempt. It is barely possible that- the young 
 woman is not at all wrought up. I say this not to 
 discourage you, but as a warning to your wild 
 confidence. What do you mean by this Edisonian 
 age? Do you mean that man is so busy with the 
 material that he cannot feel the spiritual ? It may 
 be so with some men it has been so in every age 
 but it is not so with all men. This is an age in
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 139 
 
 which a man may not tell most truth but when he 
 demands that most truth shall be told. Realism 
 has been taken up as a fad. But what is more 
 real than the beautiful? The rose-bud I send you 
 is as real as any toad that hops in your field." 
 
 Hawley carried this letter about with him and 
 read it time and again. He was not attracted by 
 the soft color with which the writer sought to 
 illumine his opinions of truth and sentiment; he 
 found in it no balm to sooth and cool a heated 
 irritation he found a wasp and it stung him. "It 
 is barely possible that the young woman is not at 
 all wrought up." This warning was the wasp. 
 He repeated the words over and over, until they 
 meant nothing, held nothing but dead sound; then 
 he would open the letter, and when his eye fell 
 upon the words, out would buzz the wasp and sting 
 him again. And in the midst of this torture, when 
 purple with punishment and in sore need of sym 
 pathy, the girl carelessly told him that she was 
 going to a distant part of the state to spend two 
 months at the house of a kinsman. He coldly 
 replied: "Are you?" It was the ice made by 
 steam, by excessive heat, by quick, exhaustive 
 evaporation.
 
 I4O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 It was a dreary evening and they sat by the log 
 fire in the family sitting-room. In the afternoon 
 the Judge had gone to town and had not returned. 
 Mrs. Trapnell passed through the room, wonder 
 ing what could have kept him so late. 
 
 "When do you think of starting?" 
 
 u> To-morrow." 
 
 "How far is it?" 
 
 "Seventy-five miles, I think." 
 
 "A long distance," he said. 
 
 "Why, I didn't think that any distance was long 
 to a man from Chicago." 
 
 "It isn't if he travels it. You say you are going 
 to stay two months?" 
 
 "Yes, about that long." 
 
 "You and the spring will come back together. 
 The rest of us will stay here with the winter, 
 waiting for you." 
 
 She leaned back in her chair and laughed with 
 rippling gayety. "Ida," her grandmother called, 
 from the stairway in the hall, "have you seen any 
 thing of my darning gourd?" 
 
 A darning gourd! A thing to put into the heel 
 of a stocking to hold it taut while darning it.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 14! 
 
 And to ask that divine creature if she had seen 
 that thing! It came to Hawley like a blasphemous 
 shout. 
 
 "No, ma'am, I haven't seen it." 
 
 "Well, it's mighty strange what's become of it. 
 Didn't that good-for-nothing puppy take it out 
 into the yard. I just know I'll break that dog's 
 neck if he ever dares to come into the house again." 
 
 "I don't know, grams." 
 
 Of course she didn't know, and simply to ask 
 her fell but little short of an outrage. And yet 
 she serenely bore it. How Christian-like was her 
 forbearance, how sublime her self-restraint. 
 
 "Mr. Hawley, that book you brought me is 
 awfully stupid." 
 
 "Why, it's been highly praised." 
 
 "That may be, but it's stupid." 
 
 He had read the book and had enjoyed it, but 
 he suddenly remembered that parts of it were very 
 dull. "But the character drawing is good," he 
 said. 
 
 "Oh, yes, but they don't say anything; they 
 talk, but I can't recall a word that any one of 
 them said. What's the use of putting a character
 
 142 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 into a book unless there is something to him the 
 smallest bit of something, at least ?" 
 
 "Not much use, I must agree. I suppose you'll 
 write to your grandfather while you are gone." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I always write when I'm away from 
 home. But I'm not fond of writing; I never can 
 find anything to say." 
 
 "You can tell about yourself." 
 
 "Yes, but that wouldnt be any news to gramper." 
 
 "But it might be to the rest of us." 
 
 "Oh, and you want to hear too, do you?" 
 
 "Yes, and I'm going to write to you and tell you 
 everything that's going on at home." 
 
 "Oh, that will be nice." 
 
 "Ida," her grandmother called from the top of 
 the stairs, "I just know that good-for-nothing 
 puppy did take that gourd. I can't find it any 
 where." 
 
 "I tell you I don't know anything about it, 
 grams." 
 
 "Well go out there and see if you can find it 
 anywhere. For goodness sake, here it is on the 
 trunk right in front of me." 
 
 "I am very glad she found it," said Hawley. "I
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 143 
 
 was afraid that we'd all have to go down into our 
 graves, not knowing what had become of that thing. 
 But fate is kinder to us than we think." 
 
 "You mustn't make fun of grams," she said, 
 laughing; and it was what any ordinary girl might 
 have said, but to Hawley, mind blunted in his 
 adoration of her, it was a solemn and majestic 
 warning. He could have told her that not to save 
 his life would he make fun of so respectable a 
 woman, that to him her darning gourd was sacred, 
 and that he was ready to rejoice that she had found 
 it. She got up to reach something on the mantle- 
 piece, and a ribbon that she had worn tied about 
 her hair, fell to the floor. He caught it up and 
 asked her if he might keep it. She looked at him 
 with a smile so full of mischief and told him that of 
 course he was welcome to it but that if he really 
 wanted a ribbon she would give him a new one. 
 Thus they driveled the time away. He had thought 
 of many wise things to say to her, for he was a 
 man of the world and surely could entertain a 
 country girl, but the wise things would not come 
 and he might as well have been a clod-hopper of 
 the fields. He remembered that he and this girl
 
 144 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 had talked sensibly, in the earlier days of their 
 acquaintance, and he muttered an imprecation 
 against the stiff clamp that was now on bis tongue. 
 Nothing can appear colder or more insipid than 
 passion's studied by-play, but he did not realize 
 this even though he practiced it himself and saw it 
 practiced under his ardent gaze. 
 
 Suddenly the room appeared to be full of dogs; 
 and a gaunt man stood peering in at the door. 
 Then came a sharp cry and the next moment 
 "grams" was among the dogs, striking right and 
 left with a broom. "Here, Bose; here, Ring!" 
 the gaunt man called. "Come, git out. That's 
 it, lam 'em, ma'm; lam it to "em." 
 
 Mrs. Trapnell followed the frightened dogs to 
 the front door, striking at them as they scampered 
 down the steps, then flurried with anger, she re 
 turned to the sitting-room. During this time the 
 man stood at the door, smiling grimly and telling 
 her to beat the unmannered rascals; and when she 
 came back he said: "You've missed one of 'em, 
 ma'm. There's Miss Betty under the table." 
 Hereupon she darted at a young dog crouched in 
 a corner. The creature howled and the dogs out-
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 145 
 
 side took up the spirit of her distress and barked 
 furiously. "Don't hit her too hard, ma'm. She 
 don't mean no harm. There, she's all right. She 
 won't come in again." 
 
 "Good-for-nothing things, tracking up the house. 
 I'll kill the last one of them!" 
 
 "Yes, ma'm, I believe you would, but they're 
 all right now. Where's the Judge?" 
 
 "He went to town directly after dinner and he 
 ought to be back right now but he ain't. Just look 
 at that track there as big as a pie plate. Gracious 
 knows I can't keep things clean no matter how hard 
 I try." 
 
 "It'll dry off putty soon, ma'm, But in the 
 meantime you might introduce me." 
 
 "You must excuse me," Mrs.Trapnell apologized; 
 "but these dogs are a perfect scarecrow to polite 
 ness. Mr. Hawley, this is Mr. Lige Crump." 
 
 "I know you mighty well by name, sir, "said Mr. 
 Crump, shaking hands with Hawley. 
 
 "And I know of you too," Hawley replied. "I 
 often lie in bed and listen to the music of your 
 hounds." 
 
 "Hope they don't disturb you, sir," he rejoined,
 
 146 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 sitting down and stretching his feet toward the fire. 
 "Well I should say not. It's thrilling." 
 "Glad you think so. But my pack's sorter run 
 down lately; somebody pizened one of my leaders 
 and if I ever find out who it was the price of wool 
 will drap at once. I think it was a fellow that 
 lives up the creek, but I ain't certain. I didn't 
 like him when he first moved in there brought a 
 lot of half hounds into the neighborhood. No 
 gentleman's got any use for a half hound; he 
 selects his dogs as carefully as he does his friends; 
 and if his dogs are low-bred, you may bet that he 
 ain't much better and that his friends are about of 
 the same ilk. I've heard my friend John Roark 
 talk about you. Now there's a man right; loves a 
 good dog and knows one when he sees him. He 
 ain't much on some things can't write as good a 
 hand as the circuit court clerk, but he's a man of 
 the people and it's a shame that he hain't been 
 sent to the legislature. Some folks don't like him, 
 but I say that it's because they can't see his good 
 points. But sometimes we fail to see good points 
 in a man that's got the most of them. You and 
 John visit putty often, don't you?"
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 147 
 
 *y ''-" 
 
 "Well, he and his sister have been over a num 
 ber of times." 
 
 "Oh, it don't make no difference with John 
 whether you can come as often as he can or not. 
 He never counts visits. Well, Miss Idy, how do 
 you stand this cold weather" 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 "Glad to hear it. Polly's been laying off to 
 come and see you for some time, but she's kept 
 putty busy, a helpin' of her mother. She'll be 
 over before long, though." 
 
 "I'm going away to-morrow." 
 
 "That so? But I don't reckon you'll be gone 
 long.- Don't reckon the old Judge would know 
 what to do without you." 
 
 Hawley felt that this was intended for himself, 
 and as if searching for a reflex of his own convic 
 tion, he studied the girl's face, but no reflex was 
 there; nothing save the glow thrown from her 
 own warm nature. 
 
 "I'm not going to stay very long," she replied. 
 "Only two months." 
 
 Why didn't she say two hundred thousand years! 
 Two minutes can be an eternity; two seconds of
 
 148 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 the soul's existence can be a shoreless sea of time. 
 
 "Oh, that's a right smart stay. I think I hear 
 the Judge coming." 
 
 When the outer door was opened the dogs darted 
 in, snapping, snarling, howling for their master; 
 and "grams" flew at them with her broom, making 
 them howl the more until she had beaten them 
 down the steps. And when order was restored it 
 was discovered that the Judge, accompanied by Mr. 
 Charles Willis, had entered the roorn. Of course 
 this discovery was made and recognized by the 
 others, but not until the last dog had been put to 
 flight did Mrs. Trapnell appear to be conscious of 
 anything except that her household had been 
 invaded. 
 
 "Gracious alive!" declared the Judge, "this is 
 an odd performance, I must say. A man comes 
 home to find his wife, a lady and the mistress of a 
 well-known household, thrashing among a lot of 
 dogs as if she's fighting for her life." 
 
 "Well I just won't be tormented this way," she 
 snapped; "I just won't I'll kill the last one of 
 them. No matter how hard I try, from morning 
 till night, I can't keep things looking respectable."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 149 
 
 "Madam," said the Judge, "it seems to me that 
 the cabin out there is full of negro women, and 
 yet you are determined to fret yourself to death 
 with trying to keep the house in order. By the 
 Eternal, madam, it doesn't speak very well for me; 
 people will think that I brought you here merely 
 to enslave you. Sit down everybody and we'll 
 warm ourselves and then have a bite to eat." 
 
 Social order was thus established; the lank cause 
 of the trouble sat unconcernedly if not placidly, 
 with his feet stretched toward the fire; and the 
 principal dog track, the one as big as a pieplate, 
 gave so encouraging a promise of drying soon that 
 Mrs. Trapnell, thus induced to put aside a part of 
 her worry, turned to Charles Willis and asked: 
 "Have you seen any of Henry's folks lately?" 
 
 Mr. Willis arose from his chair, placed his 
 hand on his breast, bowed with respect for his 
 questioner, but in lack of respect for "Henry's 
 folks," he said: "Cousin Mandy, lately and on 
 three several occasions, I have been compelled to 
 intimate to you, that although Henry and his 
 family are distantly related to you and to myself, 
 they would if properly handled make a valuable
 
 150 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 addition to a compost heap. Henry does not be 
 lieve that a man has the divine right to receive a 
 reasonable compensation for his services; he does 
 not know that the value of an article depends upon 
 the material of which it is composed, and there 
 fore he is a mere vegetable, a squash. I try to be a 
 gentleman." He bowed again and sat down, 
 thoroughly satisfied with himself and wholly dis 
 satisfied with every one else, finding wisdom in his 
 own words and music in his own voice. 
 
 "Willis," said Lige Crump, drawing in his feet, 
 "you ought to teach school, or if you knowed 
 enough you rnout train houn's." 
 
 When pushed for an expression, particularly a 
 sarcasm, Willis had a way .of touching his tongue 
 as if to pick off a phrase. And he now went through 
 with this performance, unmindful of the laugh 
 which broke out, unobservant of Mrs, Trap- 
 nell's satiric titter. "Some men were not born," 
 he declared, "they were laid upon a stump by some 
 aerial scavenger and hatched out by the genial 
 rays of a southern sun." 
 
 "Charles," said the Judge, "you still say that 
 with as much gusto as you did 'twenty years ago. 
 Why don't you vary your form a trifle."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE I 51 
 
 "Judge, the terms of an exact truth are un 
 changeable. Twenty years ago you said that 
 Gordon P. Hensley was an infamous scoundrel; 
 and to-night as we came from town I heard you 
 make the same statement." 
 
 The Judge gave him a severe look ; Willis smiled, 
 but yielding not to this attempted play of good 
 humor, the old man's countenance remained hard, 
 and the tight lines that seemed to draw down his 
 mouth were with difficulty broken when he said: 
 "Let us have no more of that, sir." 
 
 Surely this old man, hiding no resentment and 
 concealing no joy, strove by being natural himself 
 to make his visitors feel at home. The fading rem 
 nant of an old society, not of the broad-spread so 
 ciety of the South, which flattered and then fought, 
 but which was too honest to flatter but never 
 too religious to fight; the rude off-shoot of an 
 English aristocracy that found a virtue in blunt, 
 straightforward speech, and rejected even until a 
 late day the easy manners, the soft social hypoc- 
 racy of France. 
 
 Like a shadow that crosses the stubble-field, 
 leaving the land brighter where it rested for a
 
 152 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 moment, the old man's resentment passed awa) . 
 The fire crackled and murmured, the cold wind 
 whistled, the dogs scratched at the outer door. 
 
 "Ida," said the Judge, "get that old quilt there 
 in the closet and give it to those dogs to lie on." 
 
 "No, never mind," Crump spoke up. "I'm going 
 in a minit and they can stand it till then. I told 
 you that Polly was laying off to come over and see 
 you, didn't I, Miss Idy? Oh, yes, and you lowed 
 you was going away pretty soon." 
 
 The Judge looked at him sharply as though 
 about to reply to him, but he turned to Mrs. 
 Trapnell and thus spoke to her: 
 
 "Mandy, I told those poor people down the 
 creek to send up here for some meat. Did they?" 
 
 "Yes, I gave them enough to last a week." 
 
 "And gramper," said Ida, "I told the man to get 
 all the wood he wanted." 
 
 "I am glad you did, my child. I intended to tell 
 him myself. This weather is hard on those little 
 children there in that open house. I wonder if 
 they've got bed-clothes enough?" 
 
 "I sent them several quilts and a blanket," Mrs. 
 Trapnell replied.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 153 
 
 "What's that?" Hawley asked. He had been 
 dreaming. "Somebody in need of assistance? They 
 shan't be in need long. Where are they?" 
 
 "In a cabin near the creek not far from here?" 
 Mrs. Trapnell answered. "But they are all right 
 now," she added. 
 
 "That may be, but will you please see that they 
 get this?" He handed her twenty dollars. "And 
 tell them," he continued, "that they shan't suffer 
 for anything. Judge, having come from a place 
 where we are accustomed to see distress, and having 
 seen no evidences of actual want since I left there, 
 I had almost forgotten that suffering continued to 
 exist. We are made narrow-minded by our sur 
 roundings. When a man is gloomy he thinks that 
 the world has gone wrong, that life is a mistake, 
 that creation took the wrong shoot from the begin 
 ning; but let him be prosperous and in good health, 
 and he is then ready meekly to acknowledge that 
 God is right." 
 
 He spoke more with the dull inflection of one 
 that was reading rather than with the accent of 
 conversation; he was still dreaming, and the subject 
 of his dream sat on the opposite side of the fire-
 
 154 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 place, bright, cheerful in her talk, gay in her man 
 ner, happy even though she were going away on the 
 morrow. The talk flowed on, like a stream that 
 sinks and then bursts out afresh, rippling noisily, 
 murmuring low, silent and then rippling again. 
 But nothing appealed to his understanding, he 
 heard sounds merely; he caught no distinct word 
 until the Judge said: "This cold weather appears 
 to make you drowsy, sir. I should think that 
 coming as you do from a bleak lake-shore you 
 would laugh at our pretense of a winter." 
 
 "Oh, yes, surely. The fact is that I don't mind 
 cold weather very much anywhere; but it strikes 
 me that this air is more penetrating even than a 
 lake wind. It seems so out of place." 
 
 "I don't know but you are right," the Judge 
 replied. "The northern soldiers suffered greatly 
 with cold in the South; and my recollection is that 
 the coldest day I ever felt was in New Orleans. 
 Supper ready? Well, so am I. Come everybody " 
 
 With no apparent emotion but with a stupidity 
 that afterward tormented him, Hawley bade the 
 girl good-bye. They stood alone in the hall, but 
 no befitting word came to his lips; he intended to
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 155 
 
 say one thing and said another; and out of this 
 confusion, this heterophemy, came but a jumble 
 of words. She went with him to the door, she 
 stood on the steps in the wind, she laughingly told 
 him that he must not forget his promise to write. 
 The door was closed, the light no longer fell upon 
 the steps; he was alone in the yard. A struggling 
 resolution urged him to open the door and call her, 
 to tell her that he was. a fool, that his smothering 
 heart had not spoken; but the resolution died 
 within him and he stumbled his way to -the front 
 gate where a negro boy waited with his horse and 
 buggy. He lashed his horse and drove furiously 
 down the road, and the cutting wind brought to 
 him a keener consciousness that he was a fool. He 
 wondered if he had really lost his mind. What 
 was there about this simple country girl that should 
 so completely undo him? And he asked himself 
 what would have been the result had he met her 
 in Chicago. Would he have fallen in love with 
 her, and would she have transformed him into an 
 ox? He took off his hat and put his hand on his 
 head. Had old Dr. Ford foreseen the coming of 
 insanity, and was baldness one of its signs? But
 
 156 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 he was not bald; his hair had begun to grow 
 thicker; and besides some of the ablest, sanest 
 men he ever knew were bald. 
 
 "Whoa," he cried and brought his horse to a 
 sudden stop. "I will go back there. I am not a 
 fool, I'm not an ass." 
 
 He turned about and drove back. Thoughts, 
 ardent and eloquent flew to his mind; words of 
 confident, fearless love were on his lips. Now he 
 was on the hill, near the Judge's house; in a 
 minute more he should be there. But suddenly 
 he pulled hard on the lines and brought the horse 
 to a standstill. The lights were out; the house 
 was a black blot on a smirch of darkness.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 At day-light a sleet-storm was blowing; the 
 stiffened, ice-covered branches of an old oak rapped 
 on the roof of the house. Hawley wondered if the 
 girl had been so heedless as to set out on a journey 
 at such a time. She was to start early, and as he 
 lay in bed, he heard the distant roar of the railway 
 train; he heard, also, the inviting crackle of a fire 
 that old Ben had built in an adjoining room, and 
 he got up. He found the negro standing on the 
 hearth, holding one foot to the blaze. 
 
 "Good .mawnin', sah; good mawnin'. Monstus 
 col' outside." 
 
 "Yes, about as cold weather as you ever felt, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 "No, sah, in de war time we had it colder den 
 dis; but dat wuz er time w'en you mout 'spect 
 anything. I got up arly dis mawnin' an' went 
 down de creek ter see ef I could sorter pick up er 
 
 rabbit, but I didn'. I passed old Doc Moffet's 
 
 15?
 
 158 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 cabin, an' it looked so col' an' lonesome dat I 
 flung er side de jealousness twix de diffunt s&hools 
 o' medicine, sah, an' went in an' made de old 
 man er fire. An' he 'peared mighty grateful, too, 
 he did; dat is w'ile I wuz makin' it, but atter I 
 dun got it made, he had ter hint dat I hadpizened 
 er pusson. Dat ain' no way fur er man ter ack." 
 
 "No, I should think not. You say you've been 
 away down the creek?" 
 
 "Yas, sah, way down ter whar dem po' white 
 folks is." 
 
 "Then you passed the Judge's house." 
 
 "Yas, sah, an' I stopped dar, too, an" tuck er 
 cup o' coffee wid old Sis Milly; but you needn' 
 say nuthin' bout dat whar Ain' Lilly kin yere you, 
 caze dat lady is monstus jealous. Dat's allus de 
 way wid deze lay lady folks, sah. You doan know 
 how soon da gwine break out on you; da may pear 
 like da doan kere nuthin fur you, but let em' ketch 
 you a cuttin' er few shines about er nuder lady, 
 an' uh huh, look out! Sometimes I thinks dat de 
 best o' 'em is pizenous, sah. You study dar 
 cuisness an' jest ez you think you got it down 
 terer fine p'int, you suddenly skivers dat you been
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 159 
 
 way off all de time. Fse had er monstus sight o' 
 trouble wid 'ern in my life, sah." 
 
 "What time were you at the Judge's house?" 
 "Bout er hour an' er ha'f er go, I reckon." 
 "Do you know whether or not Miss Ida went 
 away this morning?" 
 
 "I knows dat she did go, sah. Da driv herterde 
 depot er bout de time I lef. She's de fines' young 
 lady in all dis' country, an' an' she thinks er 
 whole lot o' you. Neber mine axin' me how I 
 fpun' out; neber mine. I knows whut Sis Milly 
 tol' ine, an', whateber Sis Milly may be she's jes' 
 b'ilin' oberwid truth. Marse Bob now won' you 
 please skuze me, sah, fur callin' you Marse Bob? 
 I uster hab er young rnarster named Bob an', you 
 looks zackly like 'im. Dar wuz er man fur you, 
 an' he wan't er feered o' nuthin', an' lemme tell 
 you he wuz er monstus good-lookin' pusson de 
 fust thing you know. But whut I wuz gwine git 
 at is dis here: De col' weather has come on, sah, 
 an' in my practice o' medicine I needs suthin' er 
 leetle mo' wa'min' den yarbs; so ef you could let 
 me hab er dollar I'd be monstus proud o' de fack. 
 "Ben, your flattery is lost on me, but here's the 
 dollar all the same."
 
 160 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "I doan kere nuthin' 'bout de flattery so I gits 
 de dollar, er haw, haw, haw! But Iain' tryin' ter 
 work you, Mr. Hawley. I knows you is er good 
 man I dun yered er 'bout you mo'n wunst; folks 
 in town tol' me dat w'en da fotch de 'bution box 
 ter you in de church you drapped in fifty dollars 
 like it wan't no mo'n er dime. But helpin' de 
 church doan' count wid me, caze folks do dat 
 sometimes fur er show. I knows er man an' his 
 name is Mr. John Roark, too, dat gib er preacher 
 ten dollars an' megitly atterwards haggled wid me 
 ober seventy-fi" cents dat I dun earned er cleanin' 
 out his well. But dat ain' de way wid you, Mr. 
 Hawley. Ole Unk Laz dat's down wid de rheu- 
 matiz tole me dat you got clothes fur his chillun so 
 da could go ter school. An' dat ain' all; Fse 
 yered frum you all roun' de neighborhood; an' I 
 wanter tell you right now dat de Lawd ain' makin' 
 it er p'int ter furgit such men ez dat. Yas, sah; 
 yas, sah Oh, da calls me no count, an' lazy an' 
 all dat, but lemme tell you I'se gwine stick ter you. 
 Huh, I almos' furgot ter tell you dat I seed Mr. 
 Willis ober yander an' he tol' me ter tell you dat 
 he'd be yere putty soon ter talk ter you on some
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE l6l 
 
 business. Strange thing ter me dat he doan' do 
 no mo' den he do. W'y, it 'pear ter me dat ef I 
 could talk like da man I'd make it er p'int ter go 
 roun' de neighborhood, trampin' on common folks. 
 Look yeje, I got ter be gwine. Sick people needin' 
 me dis minit." 
 
 "Ben!" his wife called from the dining-room. 
 
 "Yessum." 
 
 "Is dat you?" 
 
 "Yessum." 
 
 "I thought I yered dat big mouf o' yourn. I 
 want you ter git right outen dar now an' split me 
 some wood. Ef you doan you shan't hab er bite 
 ter eat dis day." 
 
 "W'y lady, I ain' been doin' nuthin' but split 
 wood fur you all de mawnin'. But ef yo' sweet 
 mouf says so, I'll split some mo'." 
 
 "Go on outen dar now, talkin' 'bout er sweet 
 mouf." 
 
 "len, have you split any wood?" Hawley asked. 
 
 "Wall, not zackly, sah." 
 
 "Go then and do it. Do you understand?" 
 
 "Un'erstan' ? De trumpet dun blowd; de word 
 wid de bark on it dun give. I'm gwine now." 
 
 Tennessee Judge n
 
 l62 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 The sounds of the negro's axe were soon mingled 
 with the wind cries of the raw morning; and as 
 Hawley sat at breakfast, he heard the old rascal 
 throw down an armful of wood in the kitchen. 
 
 Mr. Willis came, bowing, smiling, expressing his 
 pleasure at seeing Hawley so well cared for at this 
 inclement time; hoping that the weather would 
 soon moderate; declaring that had the people fol 
 lowed his advice they would have been better pre 
 pared for this chilly emergency. The houses were 
 not tight enough; men thought that roominess was 
 comfort; they ought to see his snug house up the 
 river; they ought to observe how warm he was in 
 winter and how cool in summer snugness, comfort, 
 flowers and the finest turnips that ever grew on the 
 face of God's generous earth. 
 
 "Sit down," said Hawley. 
 
 "I thank you for this true evidence of manly 
 courtesy. Without courtesy we are barbarians; 
 with it we are gentlemen. You see me to-day as 
 you have ever seen me, careful of the feelings of 
 others. Other people may change, but I don't; 
 what I was yesterday, I am to-day a leopard of 
 consistency, so to speak, wearing my spots in the
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 163 
 
 bright light of day. Pardon me, but do you catch 
 my drift?" 
 
 "What you say is all drift and I haven't caught 
 it. But I'll not put you to the trouble of saying 
 it again." 
 
 "I thank you. To save trouble to others is a 
 most gentlemanly quality." 
 
 "Ben told me that you wanted to see me on 
 business." 
 
 "Yes, sir, and its nature is of the utmost import 
 ance; but I'm in no hurry." 
 
 "Well, but I thought of going to town this morn 
 ing on business myself." 
 
 "Ah, then I will not detain you. By the way 
 did you notice last night that the Judge got a little 
 miffed at me?" 
 
 "No, I didn't notice it. What about?" 
 
 "Oh, I spoke of Gordon P. Hensley, but no 
 matter, it was soon over with. Do you know that 
 he has carried two derringers year after year, 
 hoping to meet his enemy ? He has, and he carries 
 them yet; never leaves home without them. And 
 once every week he fires them off and loads them 
 afresh. There's patience for you."
 
 164 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Yes, and a hatred that it wouldn't be well to 
 run up against. I suppose Miss Ida left this morn 
 ing." 
 
 "Yes, but the widow Binson is still with us." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Ah, now, what? Is it possible that you don't 
 know what report says?" 
 
 "I don't know that I am interested in any report 
 regarding her, but what is it?" 
 
 "Oh, come, now, you must have heard it; oh, 
 git out now, you know you have." 
 
 "I have heard nothing, I tell3'ou!" 
 
 "Well, then, I will enlighten you. Report says 
 that you are sweet on her." 
 
 "And report is simply a liar, that's all." 
 
 "What, so harsh a term?" 
 
 "Yes, and I might find a harsher one." 
 
 "But please don't. Remember that she's a lady." 
 
 "I haven't known that she's a lady and therefore 
 I can remember nothing of the sort." 
 
 "Oh, come now, my dear sir. Let us be gentle, 
 easy, considerate, pleasant and agreeable, serene, 
 composed and thoughtful. Why, bust my buttons, 
 and at the same time excuse my vulgarity, I have
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 165 
 
 been casting my longing eye in that direction. 
 Pies, jellies, preserves, canned fruit the very 
 woman for my snug home up the river." 
 
 "All right, take her there." 
 
 "Ah, and it did seem that I could, but since you 
 came here my stock has gone down." 
 
 "Is that the business you wanted to discuss with 
 me?" 
 
 "Oh, no, no. My business with you is not so 
 serious but doubtless a little more important. I 
 told you some time ago that I was a scientific agri 
 culturist, and although my life has been passed in 
 this channel, yet with my ability pardon me I 
 can turn it in another direction. All I want is a 
 chance to display my worth, and I believe that 
 Chicago has at last offered that chance." 
 
 "So you think of going there and you want 'let 
 ters of introduction. Is that it?" 
 
 "You have not caught my meaning; I will en 
 deavor to make myself clear. I have been compli 
 mented for my address, capability and the ease with 
 which I can talk to people. Other men have stolen 
 my ideas and are now wallowing in wealth; and it 
 has occurred to me that I am entitled to the fruit
 
 1 66 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 of my own brain. But what can I do here among 
 the people that have robbed me? Nothing! I must 
 seek a new field; I must go where brain is invested 
 at morning and brings a return at night. There 
 fore I have chosen Chicago. What can you offer 
 me never mind the salary, see what I am worth, 
 estimate my abilities and then give me a reason 
 able compensation for my services." 
 
 "But I don't need you; I have nothing for you 
 to do." 
 
 "Ah, but isn't your business there still running?" 
 "I have investments there but no active business." 
 "But I can go there and take charge of these 
 investments; I can double their value. My ex 
 perience, wide, varied, searching and severe, 
 teaches me that there's nothing like talking a thing 
 up. A shallow man says that talk is cheap; but it 
 is not. Invest five dollars and say nothing and 
 you have five dollars; invest five and talk. Then 
 what? You have ten." 
 
 "But my investments don't need any talking up. 
 They are already talked up." 
 
 "Oh, there you go, there you go. You don't 
 seem to catch the importance of what I say. Why,
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 1 67 
 
 everything needs talking up. Let me tell you 
 something. I went out once with a patent churn 
 dasher. It was a splendid thing, but it wasn't 
 known; it needed talking up. People didn't want 
 it; they could get along without it. But I talked 
 it up and what was the result? Interest was 
 aroused and the inventor grew rich. But now 
 comes in the miserable littleness of man; for, 
 simply because I did not personally mark the 
 word simply because I did not personally sell 
 any of these churn dashers, I received no compen 
 sation. I went through the cou-ntry once for an 
 agricultural paper, and I breathed its name in every 
 sequestered community; and when I returned, the 
 manager estimated the value of my services by the 
 number of subscriptions I had brought in, and in 
 consequence I was turned loose without a cent. 
 My ideas were appropriated ; my brains were stolen. 
 Now, sir, I will go to Chicago for you and talk up 
 your investments, I will make people raise their 
 windows and look out to see what has caused the 
 clamor in the street. Do you catch my drift?" 
 
 Hawley laughed. "Why, your services to me 
 wouldn't be worth two cents a year. What could
 
 1 68 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 you do? Could you go into the real estate market 
 and raise the value of my lots." 
 
 "Oh, you don't seem to understand." 
 
 "No, I'll swear I don't." 
 
 Willis sighed deeply. "This is the way it goes. 
 Set my heart on a thing; declare myself ready to 
 throw my ability into it, and then comes failure. 
 The devil bespatters me with his broth. I don't 
 know which way to turn now; I can simply record 
 another disappointment and grope about in dark 
 ness." He was silent for a few moments; he pon 
 dered, pressing his finger tips to his temples. 
 "What would you advise?" he asked. 
 
 "I should think that to go to work 'would be a 
 good plan." 
 
 "Work!" Willis repeated, with a hard, dead- 
 set smile showing through the bristles about his 
 mouth. "I ask for work, for a chance to prove 
 my abilities and am turned away." His face sud 
 denly brightened. "Give me the necessary help, 
 sir; horses, tools, spiritual encouragement, money, 
 and let me make your farm an Eden, a hanging 
 garden of Babylon." 
 
 "I don't care for gardening; I'm going to raise 
 stock."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 169 
 
 "Stock!" he exclaimed, "stock, fine stock? You 
 have at last come into my bailiwick. Grass, clover, 
 a flower-besprinkled pasture. Stock! Why, stock 
 is the animated, breathing, gamboling poetry of 
 this life. A bull bellows and tears the ground, 
 and there's tragedy; a lamb frisks and there's 
 gentle sentiment. Stand by me, give me money 
 and you shall have all the stock you want." 
 
 "But all my arrangements are made. I have 
 engaged an experienced stock raiser." 
 
 Willis sighed again. "Another temple fallen to 
 dust. Mr. HawJey, you held "me up for a moment 
 merely to kick me. I am bruised." 
 
 "Do you need money?" Hawley asked. 
 
 "What's that? Do I need money? Does the 
 road-stained steer, hot, wall-eyed, tormented by 
 flies, need water and a cool place to lie down? My 
 Hawley, I need money." 
 
 "Will fifty dollars help you out?" 
 
 Willis sprang to his feet and with spectacular 
 gestures cut the air. "My Hawley, hold me up 
 and bruise me with disappointment, but don't play 
 with my tenderer self, my straightened circum 
 stances. Fifty dollars! Don't tell me that so
 
 170 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 much cash floats on the surface of the changeful 
 stream of luck, within grasp of this hand. No, 
 no, "he cried, putting his hand over his eyes, "I 
 dare not look at it." 
 
 "Here's the money if you want it." 
 
 He took the money, sat down and said: "No, I 
 am not feeling my way through an illusion. It is 
 real. Let me see. This is Thursday. I will hand 
 this back next Saturday." 
 
 "Better make it three months." 
 
 "Ah, you overwhelm me with money and swallow 
 me up with time. But so be it. My generous life- 
 preserver, I'll bid you good-morning." 
 
 The sun was shining but the wind had grown 
 colder, fiercer, and sharp specks of ice, caught 
 from the dead grass, were driven across the road. 
 Hawley drove toward town. Every variation of 
 sound, the wind, the fluttering and the twitter of 
 cold birds in the hedge, held a reminding note of 
 the girl's voice. With his head bent forward, his 
 over-coat drawn about him, his eyes- half closed, 
 he drove hard against the breath of this shuddering, 
 shrieking day; and across his mind shot the light 
 of an eye, and in his mind was the glow of a smile.
 
 ' ' ' -." " " ' '
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE I /I 
 
 He sought not to reason with himself, to ask him 
 self if he was wise; he admitted to himself that 
 common sense did not sanction this infatuation, 
 but what infatuation did common sense ever sanc 
 tion? The man who could love wisely was a mere 
 arithmetician, a shrewd figgurer, an exactor of 
 weights and measures; the man with a deeper, 
 warmer, purer soul loved heedlessly. 
 
 Having transacted his business in town, Hawley 
 went to the county clerk's office, to seek diversion 
 in this clearing house of gossip; it was the disturbed 
 mind asking the coarse comedy for relief. The 
 old loiterers were there, sitting about the stove, 
 some of them with their chairs tipped back against 
 the wall, others leaning forward with their chins 
 resting on the crook of their hickory canes. 
 Blanketed farmers, old men in "leggings," negroes 
 with pieces of coffee sack tied about their feet, 
 stood round listening, eager to catch something 
 that might be taken home and repeated. Cold 
 weather was the topic. The past was scooped and 
 scraped; severe days were brought back and ex 
 hibited. One man had seen the Cumberland river 
 frozen so thick that a drove of cattle crossed on
 
 1/2 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 the ice; and then the liar spoke up. He had seen 
 the river freeze to the bottom and crack open like 
 a chapped hand. 
 
 Lige Crump came with his dogs and the clerk 
 did not attempt to put them out ; he was a candi 
 date for re-election. John Roark arrived and at 
 once began a harangue on reform. And to give 
 a point an effective clinch, he turned to Hawley 
 and asked: "Ain't that so, hah?" 
 
 "I don't know," Hawley answered. "Reform, 
 however, is always a pretty safe doctrine to preach. " 
 
 "Yes, but a better doctrine to practice. Why, 
 helloa, here's Judge Trapnell." 
 
 The Judge came forward, shivering, and held 
 his hands over the stove. "Hawley, I came by your 
 house," he said. 
 
 "Did you? Wish I had known you were coming; 
 I would have waited for you. We'll go back 
 together." 
 
 "All right. Gentlemen, this puts me in mind of 
 old times." 
 
 "Yes," said Roark, "and it will put you in mind 
 of hard times if things don't change. I'll tell you 
 the country is going to the dogs. We need a
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 change, not so much in Congress as right here at 
 home. The legislature wants to be purged." 
 
 "Ah," the Judge remarked, "and which leads us 
 to infer that you ought to be sent down there." 
 
 "Well, yes, if you'll have it that way.' 
 
 "But I won't have it that way, Roark," the 
 Judge replied. "I like you well enough personally, 
 sir, but I can't support you for office." 
 
 "I don't see what objections you can have to 
 me, Judge." 
 
 "I suppose not, sir, and in fact I have no objec 
 tions to you personally, but your political creed is 
 not staunch enough." 
 
 "I'm a democrat." 
 
 "Yes, this year; but what were you last year?" 
 
 "Oh, well, I admit that I have changed my faith. 
 It's the wise man that changes, you know." 
 
 "I know nothing of the sort, sir. I know that 
 some men have flattered themselves with this 
 theory, but a fundamental change is unbecoming a 
 true man." 
 
 "Well, now, Judge, that's putting it pretty 
 wrong." 
 
 "The truth does not water its words, sir. But 
 I didn't come here to discuss politics."
 
 174 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "But say, Judge," Lige Crump spoke up, "I 
 think John is the man we want." 
 
 "If you think so, vote for him." 
 
 "You bet I'll do that and use all my influence; 
 but I don't know why you should be against him." 
 
 "If you don't know after what I've said, all 
 right." 
 
 "Oh, no, it ain't exactly all right, Judge, for we 
 don't want to see a good man downed. But if 
 you say so we'll let it go. By the way, Brother 
 Hawley, what's your politics?" 
 
 "I am a Republican." Crump softly whistled: 
 Hawley added: "I am a Republican and don't 
 think that I am called on to apologize for the fact. 
 In local affairs I am ready to vote with you, but 
 on all national questions I hold the opinions of my 
 party. However, I'm not a politician, and I didn't 
 come among you to raise political issues or to dis 
 cuss them, but to raise stock. My father 'hated 
 slavery and at the same time was a slave himself; 
 and his master was business. My mother wrote 
 hymns for the Abolitionists and praised God when 
 the shackles fell." 
 
 "Spoken like a man!" exclaimed the Judge. "By
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 1/5 
 
 the Eternal, stick to your principles whatever they 
 are. I don't care so much what a man' s principles 
 are if I know that he is honest in them. I would 
 rather be a clod and know myself to be honest 
 than to be a genius and suspect myself of rascality. 
 During my long term on the bench my prayer was 
 for wisdom and honesty. I despise a hypocrite, 
 I hate a liar and I loath a coward. Hawley, I'm 
 ready to go any time you are." 
 
 "Judge," said an old lawyer, "let me see you a 
 minute." 
 
 The Judge stepped aside with him, listened a 
 moment, nodded, scratched his head, and beckoned 
 to Hawley. "By the way?" he asked, putting his 
 hand on Hawley 's shoulder and speaking in an 
 undertone, "do you ever play poker?" 
 
 "I used to but I've sworn off," Hawley answered. 
 "It took me five years to find out that I couldn't 
 play, to say nothing of the money it cost me." 
 
 "Good thing you quit. The boys are going to 
 get up a little game and want me to join them; 
 only a small game dollar or so limit." 
 
 "Go ahead, then, Judge; don't let me take you 
 away."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Well, if it's just the same to you " 
 
 "That's all right; go ahead." 
 
 "Very well, I'll play a little while. By the 
 way, can't you come over to-morrow night?" 
 
 "Yes, I'll be there." 
 
 Surely the old man was not built after the fash 
 ion of the saints; surely the blood of no puritan 
 ancestor flowed in his veins. Touched upon a 
 point of honor, and his demands were as close as 
 the exactions of a rigorous morality; but he could 
 separate morality from religion, and the nicest 
 shades of honor might be found in a game of poker. 
 With the leisurely class of his generation, he held 
 the sophistical belief that one vice is an off-set to 
 many vices; that it is wise to choose your besetting 
 sin and to take care that it shall be a small one. 
 
 The Professor of Moral Philosophy was in the 
 library, waiting for Hawley. The old man had 
 placed his cudgel on a table, and he sat near it, 
 with his arms folded. He did not get up when 
 the master of the house entered. 
 
 "Good evening, Professor." 
 
 He slowly bowed his head but made no reply. 
 
 Aunt Lily came to the door and said that supper
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 177 
 
 was ready. Hawley invited the Professor to join 
 him but the old man shook his head. He sat with 
 out moving until Hawley returned. 
 
 "Well, how is everything?" Hawley asked. 
 
 "There is no everything and nothing gets along 
 well. We may say that the machinery of the earth 
 is perfect, but it is not. It shudders and shakes* 
 down cities. We may say that the sun is undis 
 turbed, but the jealous and whimsical moon, to 
 cheat it of its glory, slips in between it and the 
 earth. Nothing is right; moral philosophy comes 
 nearest, and that will be a shade off to the right 
 or to the left until I perfect it. But I promise 
 that it shall be exact before we build our university." 
 
 "All right, Professor; when you are done with 
 your part of'the work let me know." 
 
 "I shall do so, sir. Of late I have been strangely 
 disturbed by shreds of suggestions that weave 
 themselves into my dreams. I know that my 
 health is good, for I feel my pulse and find that the 
 engine of life is running with regular throb. And 
 I know that my mind is sound, but this is a great 
 wonder for I meet with fools enough to jar it out 
 of plumb. I met Willis to-day and he larruped 
 
 Tennessee Judge 13
 
 178 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 me with a cat-o'-nine-tails of words: he tied a halter 
 of verbiage about my neck and choked me; he 
 rolled up a bolus of adjectives and stuffed it down 
 my throat. And when I was done with him, along 
 came old Moffet, with his whining theories about 
 the physical ailments of man. I spoke to him 
 about the mind of man and he winced. Ah, that's 
 where you touch them. Man is afraid of mind. 
 He flees from it; he sees in it a cutting questioner. 
 Step out and look up, and you are under the dome 
 of a mind the mind of the universe, star-brained, 
 infinite. This evening I sat in my house, thinking, 
 until the tip ends of my thoughts froze and broke 
 off. I was frightened. What could I do with lumps 
 of ice for ideas? Old Ben came along and I 
 shouted to him to build a fire to thaw my brain." 
 
 "Did he make the fire? 
 
 "Yes, and he sat there and listened to my 
 thoughts as they thawed and trickled down, drip, 
 drip." 
 
 "Ben is as lazy as a dog, but he's a pretty good 
 sort of a darky, Professor." 
 
 "Yes, and he's got more sense than old Moffet." 
 And after a silence he added: "I don't want to
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 179 
 
 go home to-night; I am afraid of the cold. Have 
 you an extra bed?" 
 
 "Yes, in this room," Hawley answered, getting 
 up and opening a door. 
 
 "Then I will bid you good-night. But let me 
 request you to lock the door from this side." 
 
 "Why do you want it locked and especially from 
 this side?" 
 
 The professor took up his cudgel, balanced it on 
 his finger and said: "Thus do we discover the 
 center of gravity. Speculation ceases for a fact 
 is established. But we have not yet found the 
 mind's center of gravity, and speculation is forced 
 to continue. I might ask myself a thousand ques 
 tions as to why I want that door locked from this 
 side, and I doubt whether I should be able to an 
 swer the simplest one of them. To tell you the 
 blunt truth, I am afraid to know why I want the 
 door locked. But will you lock it?" 
 
 "I will." 
 
 "I thank you. Good-night." 
 
 Hawley locked the door, went into the dining- 
 room, called Aunt Lily; and when the old woman 
 came, he said: "Look here, I don't like the way 
 the old Professor talks."
 
 ISO A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Oh, dar ain, no harm in'im, sah; none er tall." 
 
 "But he insisted upon my locking him in a room." 
 
 "Wy, dat doan meek no diffunce, sah. Cose 
 
 he 'sisted on it ef it happened ter come inter his 
 
 mine. Go on ter bed, chile, w'en you gits ready 
 
 an' doan pay no 'tention ter 'im. Wait er minit. 
 
 Did you notice dat I'se usin' dis room right in dar 
 
 fur er kitchin ?" 
 
 "No, but what of it?" 
 
 "Wy, you know dat till mighty lately de w'ite 
 folks 'sisted on de kitchin bein' 'way across de 
 yard, an' neber in de big house. But I dun moved 
 in yere, sah, caze it's handier, an' I does hope dat 
 you doan 'ject ter hit." 
 
 "I wouldn't have known it if you hadn't told me." 
 
 "Well, I'se much obleeged ter you fur not bein' 
 
 pryin' an' 'quisitive, sah. Wy jes' go on ter bed 
 
 an' doan pay no 'tention ter dat po' ole w'ite man." 
 
 Hawley sat down at his desk, smoked, dreamed, 
 
 ivrote to Dr. Ford. "You may not have intended 
 
 it," he said, "but a red-hot wire ran through your 
 
 letter and burnt me. 'It is barely possible that 
 
 the young woman is not at all wrought up. ' I 
 
 wish you hadn't said that, not because it may not
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE l8l 
 
 be true, but because I am afraid it is. She is so 
 young and has seen so little of life, so unschooled, 
 that if she cared for me she surely could not hide 
 it. I have seen a thousand evidences of her un 
 studied frankness, but I have seen nothing to tell 
 me that she is in love. You wouldn't accuse me 
 of a lack of courage, would you? I don't think 
 you would, and yet I am a coward. To-day, dur 
 ing a general talk in the court-house, the old Judge 
 remarked that he loathed a coward, and it made 
 my flesh creep. A woman on the look-out for a 
 husband would regard me, situated as I am, as a 
 pretty fair sort of a catch; but this girl is not look 
 ing for a husband she is avoiding one. She has 
 just gone away to stay two months, and to me the 
 whole country, the world, has been desolated. 
 She went this morning and I was with her last 
 night; I was alone with her, had made up my 
 mind to talk like a lover and I talked like "a fool. 
 But after all there is a close kinship between the 
 fool and the lover. We are to write to each other. 
 Am I going to tell her, in a letter, that I love her? 
 I am not. I won't ink my avowal; I must speak 
 it; and thus shall I get even with myself for my
 
 1 82 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 cowardice. If I had remained at old Knox college 
 a little longer, or if I had spent more time in the 
 study of verse, I might twist out a few lines in 
 praise of her beauty and her 'sylphic' grace, for 
 rhyme loiters with us after reason has flown. But 
 verses are studied and love is head- long. So I 
 resort not to the tricks of meter. 
 
 "My cranks are still about me. One of them is 
 asleep in an adjoining room and I hear him snoar 
 as I write. He ought to be in a mad-house. I 
 have always heard that we must go to the country 
 to find odd characters. I suppose that's true; I 
 know I've found them. I think that I've mentioned 
 this before. Odd characters! I could have found 
 them at the Washingtonian Home. 
 
 "I have become strongly attached to this place. 
 I like the surroundings and the most of the people. 
 The majority of them are sturdy citizens, almost 
 the ideal population of a severely democratic 
 country. Their daughters have not married for 
 eigners, but neighbors. As I said on another 
 occasion, they. are strictly American." 
 
 The Professor snoared, gasped, struggled and 
 snored again. Once he cried out, "Make me a
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 183 
 
 fire, you black rascal. I'm freezing." The wind 
 blew, the old clock struck the midnight hour, the 
 oak tree raked its frozen fingers on the roof.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Early at morning the Professor knocked on the 
 door with his cudgel and loudly demanded his re 
 lease. Hawley bounced out of bed and hastened 
 to obey the unmistakable summon. "Ah, good 
 morning," was the moral philosopher's pleasant 
 greeting. "I am happy to inform you that the 
 weather and my brain have moderated, a coinci 
 dence, I think most happily blended. Hear the 
 drippings on the roof, the trickling regret of a cold, 
 ill-humor. Your bed is soft and refreshing, Mr. 
 Hawley; there is quiet slumber between your 
 sheets." 
 
 "There was sleep undoubtedly, Professor, but 
 it wasn't quiet. You snoared like a planing mill." 
 
 "Did I? It was rasping trouble grating its 
 way out of me; and it has left me as fresh as a 
 boy. But I'm sorry that I disturbed you. Go 
 back to bed I beseech you, and have your sleep 
 
 out." 
 
 184
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 185 
 
 "No, breakfast will soon be ready. I hear Aunt 
 Lily stirring round out there now. Here's a fire 
 in the library. Come in." 
 
 "No, I must leave you; I have an appointment 
 with the sun-rise. Good morning." 
 
 He went away with his cudgel under his arm and 
 in the growing light, Hawley saw him walking in 
 a circle, looking upward. His hat fell off, but he 
 stooped not to get it; and walking round again he 
 trod upon it. 
 
 "Did you yere dat w'ite man er snoa'n' an'er 
 snortin' in de night?" Aunt Lily asked, as Hawley 
 sat at breakfast. 
 
 "I should say I did. And it was a longtime be 
 fore I could get to sleep." 
 
 "Laws er massy, he did pester me. Dat's 
 whut er man git fur foolin' 'way too much o 'his 
 time wid books. You neenter tell me; I knows. 
 Dat wuz it. W'y, I knowd him w'en he wuz er 
 young man; an' dar wan't er brighter pusson no 
 whar, and all de w'ite folks said he gwine meek 
 his mark, sho; but he kep' on er foolin' wid dem 
 books an' da got him. Da'll git anybody, too, 
 dat keep on foolin' wid 'em. W'y jes look at de
 
 I 86 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 niggers dat da been educatin'. Whut does da 
 'mount ter? W'y, sah, one o' ole Unk Nat's boys 
 lives right ober yander went off ter school sum 
 mers an' come back he did finer den er fiddle. 
 W'y, he wuz so fine dat er common pusson couldn" 
 talk ter him er tall; but he kep on er foolin' wid 
 books an' he kep, on er foolin' wid er pen till atter 
 w'ile he put his name on some sorter piece o' 
 paper I doan know whut an' de w'ite folks tuck 
 { im up, da did, an', sont 'im ter de penetenchy. 
 But his bruder didn' go foolin' roun' no books, an' 
 whut come o' 'im? He's er livin' down yander in 
 de bottoms an' is doin' monstus well got de 
 fines' cow I eber seed in my life. Yas, sah, deze 
 yere books will set you crazy ur make you put yo' 
 name on suthin'. Uh, huh, I knows 'em." 
 
 "But it wasn't education that made the boy dis 
 honest, Aunt Lily." 
 
 "Den I'd like ter know whut it wuz. Edycation 
 hepped 'im ter steal an' anythin' dat heps er pus- 
 son ter steal ain' 'hones', an, darfo' is powerful 
 dangeus. Oh, I knows; you kain talk ter me. I 
 dun been yere too long." . 
 
 "But he was a thief all the same, and he would 
 have stolen something sooner or later."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 187 
 
 "Oh, yas, sah, he mot er stold er little suthin, 
 an' been sont ter jail fur it, but goin' ter school 
 teached 'im ter reach way up yander wid his mean 
 ness, an' he reached up ter de penytenchy. I tell 
 you dat it ain' no use ter talk ter rne caze I knows 
 I'se been yere er long time. Oh, dar is some 
 men dat knows how ter han'le books. Dar's de 
 Jedge, fur instance. He knows; he kin read all 
 day long an' it won' hurt 'im er bit; but he's er 
 'ception, I tell you." 
 
 "But if it weren't for reading, for books, Aunt 
 Lily, you wouldn't know anything about religion, 
 Moses, the apostles, the redemption of the world." 
 
 She scratched her head. "Yas, sah, I reckon 
 dat so; I hadn' thought o' dat. But I yere 'em 
 say dat folks goes crazy frum readin' de Bible; 
 but ef de Lawd sets er pusson crazy fum readin, 
 de Bible He do it fur some puppose an' I ain' 
 gwine question dat puppose. Dar's one thing, 
 howeber, dat's mighty sho' : Er pusson dat is 
 likely ter read de Bible too much ain' gwine steal 
 nuthin'. I wuz talkin' 'bout man's books; I wan' 
 talkia' 'bout de catekisms o' de Lawd." 
 
 The air was pleasant, the sun shone with glad-
 
 1 88 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 some warmth, and from the hill-side came a dan 
 cing dazzle the ground was thawing. Drip, drip, 
 under the trees, and drip, drip under the eaves of 
 the house. The mood of April with the eye of 
 June, a summer's day, which wantonly breaking 
 loose from some distant country's season, had 
 frolicked its aimless course into the midst of a 
 Tennessee winter. 
 
 The old Judge walked about in his orchard, 
 humming a tune. To him a cheerful turn of 
 weather, a strain of music, served but to recall 
 some feature of the long ago; a present pleasure 
 was but the spirit of some dead happiness come 
 back to refresh its memory of a scene once familiar. 
 His wife came out and stood with her arms resting 
 on the fence. 
 
 "I didn't suppose you'd feel SQ well this morning 
 after having been up nearly all night," she said. 
 
 "Madam, have you come out here to nag at me?" 
 
 "Nag at you. I just said " 
 
 "I know what you just said. By the Eternal, if 
 1 ever stay out three minutes after the time laid 
 down for me to come in I never hear the last of 
 it. Go ahead now, and say what you want to."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 189 
 
 "Oh, I didn't have anything to say, particularly." 
 
 "Then I'd better be off. When a woman declares 
 that she has nothing to say, she's loaded." 
 
 "But I do think that when you intend to stay out 
 all night you ought to let me know." 
 
 "Oh, I knew it was coming; knew you couldn't 
 hold it but a moment longer." 
 
 "I don't see what business could keep a man 
 away all night an old man, at that." 
 
 "Do you want me to butt my head against this 
 tree, or what do you want? Say the word." 
 
 "Now, Judge, what's the use in acting that way. 
 I haven't said anything." 
 
 "Of course not. You never do. I'll swear I'd 
 rather you'd take a gun and shoot at me than to 
 keep hinting round. I had no way of letting you 
 know that I was going to stay out so late I didn't 
 know I was going to stay so late." 
 
 "No, but I don't see the use of a man sitting up 
 all night" 
 
 "Doing what, madam; doing what? Out with it." 
 
 "Oh, I know what you were doing, and I lay you 
 lost every cent you had with you." 
 
 "That's where your intuition fails you. I didn't 
 lose a cent; I won."
 
 190 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Well, it was a rare thing. How much did you 
 win?" 
 
 "About sixty-five dollars." 
 
 "Oh, but it's wrong to take people's money 
 that way. But I didn't come out to scold you. A 
 man must have some recreation, I suppose. Isn't 
 it a beautiful day? I think I'll drive to town this 
 morning. I'm so glad you're feeling well; you 
 haven't been very strong lately. Wait, I'm coming 
 over to walk with you. Did you hear me say that 
 I was going to town this morning?" she asked 
 taking his arm. 
 
 "Yes; and it's a good time to go." 
 
 "I wanted to get some things. I wish you'd let 
 me have about fifty dollars." 
 
 Ah, it made a great difference whether he won or 
 lost. To win was a light and humorous wrong, a 
 sweet rascality; but to lose was a dark and frown 
 ing wickedness. 
 
 Hawley came at evening and found the old man 
 in a genial mood; found Mrs. Trapnell's voice 
 as soft as the subdued tones of a flute. The smell 
 of new goods was in the house. 
 
 "Walk right in," said the Judge. "Hah, I have 
 put off my toddy waiting for you."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE IQI 
 
 "And I think-you are about the only man that 
 he would wait for, Mr. Hawley," Mrs. Trapnell 
 spoke up. "He is very punctual." 
 
 "If the toddy happens to be as good as the com 
 pliment I know I shall enjoy it, "the visitor replied. 
 
 "It may be sweeter and yet not so sincere," the 
 Judge rejoined. "Mandy, won't you take a little?" 
 
 "Just pour me out a sip. That's a plenty, I thank 
 you." 
 
 But what .a desolation showed itself through this 
 gauze of good humor. The house was but a shell; 
 the soul was gone., and the fireplace with its 
 smothered flame, was an eye that had lost its sight. 
 A dark shadow seemed to lie where the girl had 
 been accustomed to sit, and Hawley gazed at the 
 spot, -but she had been also wont to sit near the 
 window, and the shadow shifted from one place to 
 the other to accommodate the lover's fancy. He 
 had to smiJe at this sympathy shown by intangible 
 things; self ridicule, the keen scalpel that lances 
 cur swollen prominence, that cuts through the skin 
 and shows how watery is the blood of our own 
 narrow yearning, touched him with its sharp point. 
 Had he been stronger, the place might now be
 
 192 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 radiant with the memory of a smile of happiness, 
 might hold the echo-melody of words spoken in 
 tenderest love. But he had been weak, awkward; 
 he had been the clumsy boy at a dance. 
 
 They talked about the sudden change in the 
 weather and of that bugaboo ever in sight, the 
 threatened financial stringency; speculation in 
 stocks was too rampant. They touched upon fast 
 horses as a subject, and the Judge, with a wince, 
 acknowledged that a boasted and cherished record 
 of the past had been beaten. The success of the 
 public school system in the South was discussed, 
 education in general was commented upon and 
 this led to books. 
 
 "There was a time when a man could talk about 
 books," said the Judge "but if he does so now they 
 call him a pedant. If he lives in the city he must 
 confine himself to a dry discussion of business 
 affairs and politics that effect business; if he lives 
 in the country he is expected to talk about cattle, 
 grass, the corn crop, and a neighbor's candidacy 
 for office. But when I was a young man people 
 mixed thought with politics. I have heard old 
 John Bell and he was not of my political faith
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 193 
 
 mind you talk on books by the hour and people 
 listened to him. But it isn't that way now. A 
 politician must tell the farmer that he can make 
 a bushel of potatoes worth more and although the 
 farmer knows that this is a lie, yet he demands that 
 it shall be told. At one time, sir, the South had 
 the promise of a literature, but that time is past. 
 The poets were killed in the war and the prose 
 writers, the historians, the novelists, the essayists, 
 have gone to the lawyer's office, the carpenter 
 shop, the corn-field to make a living.' 
 
 "And yet," Hawley replied, "some of the best 
 writing in the magazines comes from the South." 
 
 "Some of the most tiresome twaddle does, sir. 
 Where is the rollicking fun of Sut Lovengood? 
 Where is the vivid fancy of Simms? What has 
 become of the charming grotesqueness of Major 
 Jones' Courtship? All gone, sir, and drivil has 
 taken their place." 
 
 "I don't agree with you, but you may have it 
 your own way." 
 
 "Don't agree with me but I may have it my own 
 way! By the Eternal, sir, there is but one way 
 that is the right way. The North has done better 
 
 Tennessee Judge 13
 
 194 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 but it is weakening. Your poets are dead." 
 
 "Yes, but a vigorous crop may be coming on." 
 
 "Ah, a rank crop, all stalk and no grain." 
 
 "Judge, your view is too gloomy. You are 
 
 afflicted with far sightedness you can't see a thing 
 
 except at a distance, and even then you must turn 
 
 and look back. There has never been a great 
 
 contemporane ous literature, for the narrow lines 
 
 of the critic run into the past. It take us almost 
 
 a generation to discover that a writer is original; 
 
 at first we call him crude, wanting in art; but 
 
 afterward we may find that what we took to be a 
 
 lack of finish is a new art, stronger, bolder than 
 
 the old art. Carlyle " 
 
 "What, that delirium in a red gown !" the Judge 
 exclaimed. "That sifter of German chaff! Don't 
 talk about him. He got into a wild wrangle with 
 himself and called it the French Revolution; he 
 baptized Cromwell, the blood-clotted butcher and 
 called him a saint. He wrote for the Teutonic 
 mind, and when you give a German something he 
 can't understand, he calls it philosophy. Carlyle 
 hated Americans and I therefore hate him." 
 
 "But that has nothing to do with his greatness 
 as a writer," said Hawley.
 
 A TENNESSEE T UDGE 195 
 
 "Greatness as a writer! He had no greatness 
 as a writer. He was a religious bigot without a 
 God; he worshiped a turgid abstraction which 
 was himself. He said to Americans, 'don't come 
 near me, but read me; I will not see you but I 
 will give you advice.' I Gad, I would stuff rat 
 holes with such advice." 
 
 Hawley laughed. "Oh, it is not humorous to 
 me," said the Judge. "I hate a man that hates 
 my country. I used to read Dickens, the prig, 
 but when he printed his American Notes, I despised 
 him. Ah, and old Throgmorton, of Louisville, came 
 within one of throwing him out of a window, the 
 insolent, velveteen-garbed slanderer." 
 
 "But, Judge, the educated, progressive people 
 in the North are beginning to acknowledge that 
 we were open to ridicule, that his strictures were 
 mainly right." 
 
 "Well, then, sir, the North is no longer Ameri 
 can." 
 
 "Yes, we are still Americans but we are advanc 
 ing; we are learning that we once permitted our 
 faults to dazzle our eyes." 
 
 "We used to have a book that I enjoyed very
 
 196 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 much," said Mrs. Trapnell. "It was called 'Tem 
 pest and Sunshine.' Do you remember it, Judge?" 
 
 "Yes, madam, I remember a shallow pan of 
 skimmed milk that went under that name." 
 
 "Why, Judge, I thought it was beautiful. Did 
 you ever read it, Mr. Hawley?" 
 
 "I believe I have thoughtlessly picked it up," 
 Hawley answered. 
 
 "Then it is a wonder you didn't read it for it's 
 interesting from the very start. Ida used to think 
 it was charming." 
 
 "Some of the descriptions are very fine," said 
 Hawley. He did not notice the half-formed smile 
 on the woman's lips. 
 
 "Have you seen Charley Willis lately?" the 
 Judge asked. 
 
 "I saw him yesterday," Hawley answered. 
 
 "Is he still drunk?" 
 
 "Why, not that I noticed. He hadn't changed 
 any." 
 
 "Ah, and that was because you have never seen 
 him sober. He's been drunk for six months." 
 
 "Oh, not that long, Judge," Mrs. Trapnell pro 
 tested.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 197 
 
 "Yes, madam, longer than that. It's about his 
 time to sober up, and when he does you'll see the 
 most remorseful human being that ever walked 
 the path of regret. Strange fellow, a man who 
 has never found his place. When he's drunk 
 people say that if he didn't drink he would be a 
 great man; and when he's sober they say he is 
 not so bright as he was when he drank. But 
 he's about the same, drunk or sober. I do believe 
 it's raining." 
 
 "Yes it is," said Mrs. Trapnell, "and I'll warrant 
 you that Milly forgot to put the tubs out." 
 
 "Madam, I think that's a hint for me to go out 
 there in the dark and skin my old shins, trying to 
 catch a few drops of rain water, but I'm not going." 
 
 "Oh, I didn't want you to go, Judge." 
 
 "No, but I went out there tugging with sawed 
 off barrels the last time it rained and came back 
 barked like a poplar pole in a horse lot." 
 
 "Why a poplar pole in a horse lot?" Hawley 
 asked, laughing. 
 
 "Haven't you advanced that far in stock raising? 
 Horses like to gnaw green poplar bark ; it's a tonic. " 
 
 "I hear Milly fixing the tubs," said Mrs. Trap 
 nell.
 
 198 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Good!" cried the Judge with mock emphasis, "but 
 if we don't go out there and pick her up dead it 
 will be a surprise to me! Hawley, I was born 
 here and ought to know my surroundings, but 
 every dark night adds a new sharp corner to the 
 place, and they come faster, too, as I grow older." 
 
 The rain poured; the hour grew late and Hawley 
 arose to go. "No, sir," declared the Judge, "you're 
 not going out such a night as this. We've got 
 lots of room here; go to bed if you're sleepy." 
 
 "But I must go, Judge." 
 
 "What, in this pour-down. Man, you are mad." 
 
 He persisted, fought off every entreaty and went 
 out into the beshowered night. The weather had 
 been so fine that he had walked over, and now he 
 trudged along the turn-pike, holding an old family 
 umbrella, musing; and his thoughts caught the 
 rhythm of the rain and flowed in monotonous 
 measure.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Spring came early. The peach trees bloomed in 
 February and the corn was up in March. How 
 delightful was this sprouting time to a man from a 
 climate where March is the enemy of all living 
 creatures. And at evening when this man walked 
 abroa'd in the soft air, he pictured the frozen lake - 
 shore, heard the grinding of the tumbled ice, the 
 wild lapping of the waves, the moaning of the 
 telegraph wires, the cold clang of the car-bell; he 
 saw the truckman slapping himself for warmth, the 
 news boy with benumbed fingers fumbling to make 
 change, the pale woman with the thin shawl, the 
 muddy snow in the street. 
 
 Hawley and Ida Trapnell had kept up a corres 
 pondence, but how spiritless, colorless, tame had 
 been their letters. Each appeared to be under 
 restraint lest some strong word might escape ; each 
 made many erasures as if to euphemize a strong 
 
 sentiment into a nothingness. One was surprised 
 
 199
 
 200 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 that the other was not more natural, but the sur 
 prise was not expressed; the other might have 
 been waiting for a mere hint, but no hint was 
 given. In one letter the girl told of a shaggy dog 
 that her uncle owned; that he was a perfect mon 
 ster to look at, but that he was very gentle, and that 
 she had gone out with him and caught a rabbit. 
 And in exchange for this estimate of the dog's 
 character and the bit of adventure that followed 
 it, Hawley sent an account of a visit to the court 
 house. Once, when he had just seen the first 
 peach-blossom, he thought to tell her that he loved 
 her, but his pen was too cold and too awkward. 
 He would wait, and he did wait. 
 
 One afternoon when he had just got rid of John 
 Roark, Mr. Willis came, not with so many flour 
 ishes of arm and caper of leg, but with tremulous 
 voice and sad countenance. 
 
 "Let me lie on that sofa/' he said as he came 
 into the library. 
 
 "All right. What's the matter? Are you sick?" 
 
 "Sick! I'm sicker than all the sick horses that 
 were ever sick. I'm dead; but I'm sober. Ah, 
 Lord, what a fool a man is," he added, stretching
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2OI 
 
 himself on the sofa. "If I haven't had a time of 
 it I don't know who has. Oh, I brought it on 
 myself; I know that, but it's a poor consolation. 
 Just look at me; cold sweat standing out on me 
 like warts on a toad." 
 
 "Don't you think you'd better take a little 
 whiskey? There's some here." 
 
 The thought gagged him. Don't talk about 
 whiskey; for the Lord's sake don't mention it. 
 I'm done; I've got enough. This is the longest 
 siege lever had and it shall be the last." He 
 turned over and began to grabble in his pocket. 
 "Here's the fifty dollars I borrowed from you." 
 
 "You needn't pay it now. You may need it." 
 
 "Need it? What do I need it for? I've got all 
 the whisky I want. I borrowed it to give to you 
 and you might as well take it. After a while I 
 may borrow it again to give back to the other 
 fellow. I am a financier." He threw the money 
 on a table. "I reckon I ought to die right now; 
 there isn't any use living in this world any way. 
 All we can do is to get drunk on prospects and 
 sober up on disappointment. It does seem to me 
 that with my ability I ought to do better but I
 
 2O2 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 don't. Why, if a man only knew where to place 
 me I'd be worth five hundred dollars a month to 
 him; instead of having a chance to concentrate 
 myself I simply flash off suggestions and other 
 people take them and get rich." 
 
 "Willis, you may possibly have the wrong idea 
 of yourself. Did you ever think of that?" 
 
 "That's right, speak out. I like to be told of 
 my faults; but I have estimated myself and I know 
 what I'm worth. I'm honest, I'm honorable, and 
 although I'm lying here struggling to get sober, yet 
 I try to be a gentleman." 
 
 "But have you accomplished enough when you 
 assure yourself of all this? Don't you think that 
 some of the time you have employed in persuading 
 yourself that you are a gentleman might have been 
 better spent? Mind you I don't mean any offense, 
 but we may hypnotize ourselves into the belief that 
 we are almost anything. It seems to me that you 
 are a monomaniac on the subject of self, not that 
 you are selfish, but that you keep your mind on 
 yourself. I heard you say that your head was full 
 of lofty ideas but that you hadn't the language 
 with which to express them. A clear idea expresses 
 itself; you can scarcely hold it back."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2O3 
 
 "Go ahead, I say, and tell me of my faults, but 
 I try to be a gentleman." 
 
 "Willis, that's just the trouble with the South; 
 it tries to be a gentleman. But what is a gentle 
 man, that mysterious personage, that vague some 
 thing that you are trying to imitate?" 
 
 "A gentleman, sir, is one who has a regard for 
 the feelings of others." 
 
 "A very true definition; but is that all there is 
 to life? The most ignorant man that ever dug a 
 ditch may have a regard for the feelings of others; 
 he may go further and have a regard for the feel 
 ings of all animal life, but this praiseworthy 
 instinct does not alone place him in a position to 
 be a gentleman." 
 
 "I never dug a ditch in my life, sir." 
 
 "I didn't even intimate that you had, but I will 
 say that good men have dug ditches and that a 
 man is truest to himself when he performs some 
 sort of labor no matter whether it is digging in the 
 ground or expounding a philosophy. But you 
 seem to think that having discovered in yourself 
 an essence too fine for other men to catch, and 
 having determined to be a gentleman, you have
 
 2O4 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 discharged your whole duty; all your ills are trace 
 able to the failure of dlher men to settle upon that 
 something, that vague service which you feel your 
 self so able to perform. If you can't tell what 
 you are good for, no other man is ever likely to 
 find out. You tell me of your value and I ask, 
 'what can you do?' You don't tell me, but blame 
 me for not understanding you. Willis, if a man 
 has good health and is then a failure, it is his own 
 fault." 
 
 While Hawley was talking Willis flounced about 
 en the sofa; he pressed his temples, he picked his 
 tongue for a phrase, he groaned, sighed, shut his 
 eyes, wallowed as if in an agony, and then sat up. 
 
 "Banished from Rome," he began, making a 
 flourish and raising his voice to a high pitch, 
 "banished from Rome, but what is banished but set 
 free from daily contact with things I loathe? 
 That is a comforting thought." 
 
 "Yes, it's a good thought, but I don't see the 
 application. You are not a Roman and you haven't 
 been banished." 
 
 "The application is as clear as the thought itself, 
 and is as applicable to me as it was to old old
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2O$ 
 
 What's-his-name? Men banish me because they 
 don't understand me, and when I get off to myself 
 I feel that I have been set free. But as I said be 
 fore, all I ask is an opportunity to prove my 
 abilities." 
 
 "What are your abilities?" 
 
 "Ah, what is man? It would take you an age 
 to tell me." 
 
 "And it would take you about that long to tell 
 your abilities, Willis. Don't you think you'd rather 
 talk than to work?" 
 
 "Talk! Why, my dear sir, I despise talk; I like 
 to commune with nature but not to disturb her 
 silence. You ought to have seen a farm I had 
 once. The finest of everything that ever grew; I 
 took a worn-out place and brought it up to per 
 fection." 
 
 "What became of it?" 
 
 "The miserable cur that owned the farm became 
 jealous of me and raised the rent three dollars on 
 an acre, and banished from Rome." 
 
 "I thought you still had a good farm up the 
 river. " 
 
 "No, I made it too valuable and the owner wants
 
 2O6 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 it he stood by greedily and saw my ideas blossom 
 and now he wants to pick the flowers." 
 
 "Well, if you want land to cultivate you shall 
 have it; I'll let you have all you can take care of." 
 
 "Will you? Mr. Hawley, you have touched me 
 deeply, you have indeed, sir. How much will you 
 let me have?" 
 
 "All you want, I tell you." 
 
 "You touch me deeply, sir," he repeated, press 
 ing his breast with his long forefinger as if he 
 would bore in and illustrate the depth to which the 
 feeling of gratitude had penetrated. "I can't tell 
 you how much I am impressed, sir; I am not a 
 man of many words; I have ideas but not the 
 language to express them. What, asparagus !" he 
 broke off with a flourish. "I have raised the finest 
 asparagus that ever grew. And tomatoes but I 
 came here to talk; I can't afford to idle away my 
 time. Work is now the watch-word ; I will go out 
 and survey my possessions. By the way, did I tell 
 you that Ida Trapnell had just got back? Well, 
 I meant to; but I haven't time to talk about her. 
 Out to the land of Goshen back to Rome. Good 
 day."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2O/ 
 
 A new thrill was in the air; the sun shone far 
 aslant, but it was brighter than it had been at 
 noon. Aroused as if he had shaken off a stupor, 
 buoyed by a fresh strength, Hawley took his way 
 across the fields, looking back with pity upon his 
 former weakness, bold as a Scandinavian Bersekir. 
 But when he crossed the turnpike and saw the girl, 
 standing in the yard with her face turned from 
 him, when he heard her idly laughing at a young 
 dog that ran round and round for her amusement, 
 he felt that what he had looked upon as a well- 
 warranted resolution might after all be but an ill- 
 warranted vanity. He was stricken with a fear 
 that to himself he might attribute qualities and 
 attractions that he did not possess; and yet he 
 felt that if he were a small man, with the self-im 
 portant nature that seems to belong to the under 
 sized, he would have the courage plainly to speak 
 his mind; but he was a large man and took stock 
 of his weakness. He wondered if little women 
 knew that big men were cowards, and that if know 
 ing it, they sought to have fun with them. He 
 stood at the gate and gazed upon her, this luscious 
 beauty with unconscious grace, child enough to
 
 2O8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 romp and woman enough to thrill. The dog barked; 
 she turned about and saw him. She started to 
 run toward him, but checked herself. He did not 
 notice the impulse, did not see' the restraint; he 
 was fumbling with the gate latch. She met him 
 gladly, with no sign of embarrassment, and with no 
 tremor in her voice when she spoke to him. They 
 went into the house. How the old room had been 
 brightened; it was no longer a shell; the soul had 
 returned. 
 
 They were alone. She sat on the piano stool, 
 leaning back in the attitude that had first captivated 
 him, talking gayly of her visit, laughing at nothing. 
 She had not intended to stay so long, but had 
 found everything so pleasant ; there were so many 
 young people in that neighborhood and they knew 
 so well how to enjoy themselves. She had been 
 about a great deal and that was the reason she had 
 not been very prompt as a correspondent; she 
 had seen Look Out Mountain, had visited the 
 crumbling colony planted by the author of Tom 
 Brown. But she was very glad to get back, 
 although she knew that no one had missed her 
 very much. Hawley protested; he had missed her
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2OQ 
 
 very much. Other people said that the winter 
 was short ; it had been long to him, and yet he 
 was accustomed to long winters. The Judge came 
 in, and they heard his wife calling him from some 
 distant part of the house; but he paid no attention 
 to her; he wanted to talk to Hawley. 
 
 The afternoon was gone and with the evening 
 came a number of neighbors, men, women and 
 children, and especially a boy, big-headed and 
 motley. He was a source of unceasing annoyance. 
 If a door was shut against him he beat on it with 
 a stick. He got a pole that had been used for a 
 cloth-line prop, brought it into the house, swung 
 it around and cracked Hawley on the head with it. 
 The mother cried out, "Oh, Andrew D. Boyle, why 
 will you do such things? Why don't you be good?" 
 And Hawley, wondering why she did not put the 
 wretch in irons, assured her that he was not hurt, 
 that the boy was all right. Somebody said that the 
 fish had begun to bite and this interested the girl. 
 Did Mr. Hawley like to fish? Mr. Hawley was 
 passionately fond of fishing. She was so glad to 
 know it. To-morrow they would go up the creek 
 and catch perch, but not cat fish; she was afraid 
 
 Tennessee Judge J
 
 2IO A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 to take them off the hook; they were such ugly 
 things any way. But perch were beautiful, red, 
 yellow, gold, pink; they looked as if they might 
 have been showered from a rain-bow. It was best 
 to go early, if the day were fine, and eat luncheon 
 on the rocks. It would be delightful. Andrew D. 
 Boyle blurted out that he was going, and his mother 
 looked at Hawley and in a sweet, insinuating tone, 
 said: "Perhaps the gentleman doesn't want you, 
 dear." PerJiaps he did not want him! Hawley 
 could have wrung the motley rascal's neck, but he 
 thus replied to the mother: "He would no doubt 
 be an interesting companion, but I don't know 
 yet that I can go." , 
 
 Would these annoying people stay forever? The 
 clock struck eleven. The boy was asleep, limp 
 in a chair, but his mother continued to talk 
 as if she had just fairly begun. Some place 
 might now be safe from the marauding roysterer, 
 but it was time to be off and Hawley arose to go. 
 Ida went with him into the hall. Was it true that 
 he might not be able to go fishing? He laughed, 
 and in his voice there was something that told her 
 that no earthly engagement could hold him back.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A cloud-frown hung where the sun rose, the air 
 was heavy, motionless; and in warmth, the day 
 was beyond the warrant of the season. The cattle 
 left the woods and stood huddled together in the 
 open. A luminous mist hung over the creek. A 
 dead leaf, without apparent cause, whirled round 
 and round in the yard. The sun came up, fierce, 
 glaring; and the mist growing brighter, faded into 
 the sheen of the hot and glittering day. The 
 threat of rain was gone. 
 
 Up the creek the lovers went, swinging a basket 
 between them as they walked. The girl was 
 chatty with a gossip that flitted from one thing to. 
 another, talking with words that would make no 
 sense in print, laughing with a music that would 
 sweeten an opera. Now on the gravelly strand of 
 the stream they strolled, now over the rocks they 
 
 climbed. 
 
 * 
 
 "Oh, we'll have to go on the other side," she
 
 212 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 said, halting. "Don't you see how shallow the 
 water is all along here. But yonder is a good 
 place, up there under the bluff." 
 
 "But how can we cross the creek? It's more 
 than a mile down to the bridge." 
 
 "And it won't do to go away back there," she 
 said. "I'll tell you how we can manage it if you 
 won't think it's rude." 
 
 "Nothing that you do can be rude." 
 
 "Oh, yes it can, too. I do lots of rude things, 
 gramper says. I could take off my shoes and wade 
 across here, and you could jump from one rock to 
 another and not get your feet wet. Gramper says 
 that when he was a boy the girls used to go bare 
 footed to church and carry their shoes and sit down 
 on a log just before getting there and put them 
 on. Do you know I have a notion to take off my 
 shoes and wade across there? I'd just like to do 
 it. It's lovely to wade." 
 
 "All right, go ahead." 
 
 "But you'll laugh at me." 
 
 "No I won't." 
 
 "And you won't look at me either?" 
 
 "No, I won't look at you,"
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 213 
 
 "Cross your heart you won't?" 
 
 '.'Yes, cross my heart I won't." 
 
 "I'm afraid you would, but how I'd like to wade 
 across there. Wy, there couldn't be any harm 
 in it, could there? That is if you didn' 4 - look at 
 me. The water is so shallow." 
 
 "Really I won't look at you." 
 
 "And you won't tell grams? She'd scold me. 
 She's always telling me that I haven't any dignity. 
 But dignity all the time is so awfully tiresome. 
 Now I'm going to sit down here and take off my 
 shoes and wade across; and you must look away 
 over yonder. Do you hear?" 
 
 "Yes, go on; I'm looking away over there." 
 
 She took off her shoes, and with many a cry of 
 excitement, she stepped into the water. He did not 
 look at her, and yet he saw her pink feet in the 
 shining stream. When she reached the other 
 shore, she ran away limping over the gravel, and 
 sat down on a stone to put on her shoes. Hawley 
 got across, he knew not and cared not how. On 
 ward they went, swinging the basket. Under the 
 bluff the water was deep, but the fish would not 
 bite. Up further at the shelving rock they must
 
 214 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 be biting; up there they were always hungry. 
 And toward the shelving rock they took their way. 
 
 They did not notice that in the west the sky had 
 grown yellow; they had paid no attention to the 
 deeper stillness that was brooding everywhere. A 
 frightened cow, ringing her bell in wild alarm, ran 
 down the creek on the other side; and from across 
 a narrow field, where an old log house had tumbled 
 down, came the distressing bleat of a sheep. 
 
 "Hold on," said Hawley, halting. "We are 
 going to have a storm. Why, there's a cyclone 
 coming!" 
 
 "Is there!" she cried, dropping her side of the 
 basket. "It's too bad to take the lunch home 
 and eat it. But do you really think there's going 
 to be a cyclone?" she asked, taking hold of the 
 basket again. 
 
 "Yes. Just listen. We can't get home in time. 
 How much further is that shelving rock?" 
 
 "Right up there. We can get there in a minute 
 if we run.'' 
 
 They ran to the rock, a low, jutting cliff, almost 
 a cave. They ran into this wild, dreary place, and 
 screaming birds flew out past them. The storm
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 21$ 
 
 came raving down the creek. They heard the 
 crashing of the sycamore trees, and sitting on a 
 rock they could see sheets of water ripped from 
 the creek and thrown high in the air. They saw a 
 flock of sheep, caught up and tumbled across a 
 field, and the girl cried aloud in her fright and 
 her pity. The heaving breast of this tumult was 
 pierced with lightning as sharp as a pain; and 
 thunder shook the earth as though hell itself had 
 gagged, heaved, strained and burst its girth to 
 puke its fury on the world. With startling crash 
 a mighty tree fell across the door-way of the rock 
 and thrashed the ground with its splitting limbs. 
 Another blow like that and the cavern might be 
 closed forever. Fragments of rock crumbled off 
 and rattled down the walls. The girl, frightened, 
 sobbing, clung to this strong man and he sat with 
 his arms about her. A bird, bruised and bleeding, 
 fell dead at their feet, and closer to his heart he 
 pressed this trembling child. "The storm is not 
 stronger than my love is for you, sweet angel," he 
 said, and she looked at him quickly with tears in 
 her eyes, and he kissed her. Oh, the thrill of that 
 kiss, there in the wild roar; oh, the heaven of
 
 2l6 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 contentment, rest, peace and love that came out of 
 the storm. 
 
 The tempest was gone, its bellowings were far 
 away. Out from under the rock they came, and 
 hand in hand, they picked their way through the 
 tangled trees; down along the gravel beds they 
 strolled, toward home. They saw the Judge, 
 coming to look for them, carrying his old white 
 hat in his hand. The old man hastened forward 
 crying, "Thank God, thank God you are safe!" 
 They came up to him, hand in hand, and when 
 they saw that the old man noticed it, they smiled 
 at him. 
 
 He stammered. "Why, why, er I tell you we 
 had a terrible blow, and if it hadn't kept well in 
 the path of the creek, I don't know what would 
 have become of us all. Ida, your grandmother 
 and yours too, I presume, sir " 
 
 "Yes, mine too," said Hawley; "this is, I hope 
 so." 
 
 "So I presume, sir. I say your grandmother 
 was nearly distressed to death about you, and I 
 was almost crazy. By the Eternal, I never saw 
 the wind blow harder; took the clothes-line and
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 all that was on it and we haven't seen it since. 
 I declare, I never saw the like." There were 
 tears in the old man's eyes. He talked merely to 
 keep from saying anything. "Let us get back to 
 the house. I don't think I ever saw such a storm; 
 a regular cyclone wind, lightning and thun 
 der but not a drop of rain. Look there at that 
 tree, twisted and pulled up like a weed, and it 
 must have stood there for a thousand years, too. 
 Hah," he said, looking first at the girl and then 
 at Hawley as they walked along, "a pretty time for 
 lovers to come to an understanding; a strange 
 rapture that would giggle out its expression in a 
 storm. Look at you there, Ida, tangling yourself 
 in that brush. Never saw the like in my life. Ah, 
 a cooing day, was it? Of course I knew that some 
 thing of the sort was in the ' wind, but by the 
 Eternal, sir, I didn't know it was in the storm. 
 My wife has told me all along that we might 
 expect it, but women are so quick to discover such 
 things that they sometimes see them before they 
 really exist. Come over this way. The path 
 down yonder is all covered with tree tops." 
 
 Thus he talked, giving them a chance to say
 
 2l8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 scarcely a word; and they were willing enough that 
 he should talk; they were happy in their silence. 
 And this lack of form, which to correct and con 
 ventional taste might have seemed rude and bar 
 barous, smote not their senses. They knew no 
 form, they remembered no precedent, they cared 
 for no rule laid down for the conduct of lovers, 
 had thought of no time-worn speech to make to 
 the old man; and he, forgetful of all ceremony, 
 was in unison with them. But when they reached 
 the house they found that it was not so with Mrs. 
 Trapnell. She had expected a dignified proposal, 
 meditated a stately acceptance. At a glance she 
 saw what had occurred, but pretending not to have 
 seen it, she waited for the young man to make his 
 speech to her, for the declaration that no man ever 
 loved as he did, that he would always worship the 
 darling creature, and that he humbly begged the 
 grandmother's consent to their marriage. But 
 the young man made no speech and the girl was 
 shocking enough to declare, "Well, if we didn't 
 forget the lunch basket." Hereupon the Judge 
 laughed and his wife snapped her eyes at him. 
 "Madam," said the old man, "this love-brewing 
 that you have been telling me about "
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2 19 
 
 "Why, Judge," she broke in, "what do you 
 mean? I have told you nothing of the sort. I 
 declare you embarrass me every time you get a 
 chance." 
 
 "There is no cause for embarrassment," said 
 Hawley. "Ida and I are simply in love with each 
 other and if there is no objection we are going to 
 be married." 
 
 "Why, Ida Trapnell!" exclaimed her grand 
 mother. 
 
 "What's the matter, grams?" 
 
 "Why didn't you tell me?" 
 
 "You wouldn't let me; you were all the time 
 trying to tell me." 
 
 "Ida, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I 
 don't believe I ever said a word that could have 
 led you to think such a thing. Mr. Hawley," she 
 added, "I don't know of any particular objection, 
 but I must say that this is rather a peculiar pro 
 cedure. Ida, look there how you've torn your 
 dress. I had thought," she went on, speaking to 
 Hawley, "that if you had serious intentions regard 
 ing our granddaughter that you would have said 
 something about it in a more formal way; and I
 
 22O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 do believe that the Judge is to blame for it all." 
 
 "By the Eternal, rnadam, why do you persist in 
 jumping on me? You talk as if some harm had 
 been done, as though some vital rule had been 
 violated. You are committing the only violation 
 that I have seen. If they love each other, all right. 
 Mr. Hawley is a gentleman; it is our place to 
 step aside." 
 
 "Oh, I hadn't thought of interposing any objec 
 tions, Judge, but I do think 
 
 "Oh, yes, you think that all sorts of unnecessary 
 palaver should be gone through with; that's what 
 you think. I found them walking hand in hand 
 and that was enough for me. Hawley, take a text 
 from some old romance, get up there and preach 
 her a sermon." 
 
 "Judge, I do think you can be the most aggra 
 vating man I ever saw. Didn't I tell you that I 
 had no objections'? Now what more do you want ? 
 Well, it's all for the best I suppose. Mr. Hawley, 
 Ida is nothing but a child yet. I have tried to teach 
 her to be a woman, and the Lord knows that I 
 have done my best by her. I have watched over 
 her and loved her" Here she broke down, and
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 221 
 
 catching Ida in her arms wept upon her shoulder. 
 
 "She's all right now," the Judge said to Hawley. 
 "She wanted this opportunity at first and was put 
 to the trouble of making it herself. Just let her 
 alone; it's not sorrow, it's happiness. She does 
 love the child, although they are no kin, and it is 
 a joy to know that she is to be well settled in life. 
 Come Mandy," he said, and gently taking her hand, 
 he led her from the room. 
 
 The contentment, the sweetness of that evening 
 after the storm. Scents torn from wild flowers and 
 bruised from the sappy timber were left floating in 
 the air. How could there be starvation, misery in 
 the world when all within the fond sight of this 
 man and this maturing woman was so soft, so gentle 
 and so warmed by the ardent blood of love. "It 
 was hard to stay away from you," she said, "but I 
 had to had to go away until I could get better 
 control of myself. It was not right that I should 
 give you the slightest intimation of my feelings 
 toward you, and when I felt that I had done so, I 
 suffered for it. In the eye of the world we were 
 not upon equal footing. I was poor " 
 
 "Don't talk that way," he pleaded.
 
 222 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Oh, yes, I must; not that I feel that money 
 could have made any difference in my love for 
 you" 
 
 "But, precious, it could not have made any 
 difference in my love for you." 
 
 "Oh, no," she said with the sweet confidence of 
 youth, with the perfect loyalty of a young heart, 
 "but we have to pay some attention to what peo 
 ple think, and I couldn't bear to have any one 
 believe that I was trying trying He stopped 
 her mouth with a kiss. "You must never talk that 
 way again," he said. "The advantage was not on 
 my side but on yours. I am much older than 
 you " 
 
 "Now you shan't talk that way, either. You 
 can't be old when you look so young. Why 
 when I first heard them talk about your coming 
 here, I thought you must be awfully grand and 
 severe, but when I saw you I thought you a mere 
 boy, but a great big boy, mind you." 
 
 "And this great, big old boy 
 
 "Now, I didn't say old." 
 
 "I know, but this great, big, old boy and this 
 charming girl will live together in a happiness that
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 22^ 
 
 will be almost a new discovery. We will live here 
 until we get tired and then we will go to Chicago 
 and stay there as long as we want to." 
 
 "Won't that be delightful! But you mustn't say 
 that we'll stay here until we get tired, for we must 
 never be tired as long as we are with each other." 
 
 "No, that's true, we mustn't; but we'll live 
 first in one place and then in another just as the 
 humor strikes us." 
 
 "Yes, and we'll fix up the old house shall we, 
 or would you rather have it as it is?" 
 
 "It shall be just as you say." 
 
 "No," she insisted, "it must be as you say; and 
 we won't see anybody suffer for anything, will we? 
 For look how kind God has been taus. And when 
 winter comes again we'll put those poor people 
 down the creek into a better house, and have wood 
 hauled to them so the little children won't get 
 cold." 
 
 "You are a heavenly creature," he said, pressing 
 her to.him. "Oh, that this tender heart of yours 
 may never be wrung with sorrow. Yes, precious, 
 we will make use of the means that have been given 
 us. I thank God that you have had that thought.
 
 224 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 No one within our reach shall go cold and hungry. 
 The foot-step of an angel this angel shall be 
 heard at the doorway of the lowly and the suffer 
 ing. God bless you; you pour a holy religion 
 into my soul, a soul that was dry and harsh." 
 
 Oh, the glory, the God-presence of that night; 
 oh, the dreamful sleep of love and the morning 
 came as a new inspiration from the mind of 
 Almighty nature.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Hawley was ,31111 dreaming when Aunt Lily's 
 voice aroused him; and the dream was so close to 
 the truth that its thrill and its joy were not by this 
 awakening scared back to sleepland, but remained 
 with him, stood the test of sunlight. The old 
 woman ducked her head and laughed when he went 
 into the dining-room, but in her laugh, coarse, 
 black creature that she was, rippled a sympathetic 
 melody. It was not an expression of mirth, for 
 the soul of mirth is a sly mischief; it was heart 
 felt congratulation. She told Hawley not to say 
 a word, that she knew all about it. She had seen 
 Sister Milly that morning and nobody ever tried to 
 keep anything from Sister Milly for such an attempt 
 was useless. But even Sister Milly needed not 
 have told her; she could see for herself. There 
 never was a tenderer hearted child than Miss Ida, 
 and the Lord was not going to forget her, either. 
 
 Tennessee Judge 15 
 
 225
 
 226 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 Lily was old, she admitted, but she knew what 
 love was. Why, she used to love that good-for- 
 nothing Ben. She loved him yet, for that matter, 
 but she was not going to tell him, he was so trifling 
 and no account. She was glad that the child was 
 going to get so good a husband, and Miss Mandy 
 was tickled, but of course she would not "let on." 
 Miss Mandy always was a curious woman, fussy 
 and scolding, but after all she was good hearted. 
 
 The old Professor was in the library waiting for 
 Hawley. He had been up rhe creek to find out 
 what harm the storm had done and was surprised 
 that no one had been killed. He looked at Hawley 
 and smiled. "You appear wonderfully well this 
 morning, sir; and I know the cause. Dr. Moffet 
 tells me that you and Miss Ida Trapnell are to be 
 married soon." 
 
 "Dr. Moffet told you so? I don't know why 
 the doctor should be so well acquainted with rny 
 affairs." 
 
 "A gossiping doctor, sir, knows all about every 
 body's affairs. But there's no harm done. Every 
 man should know himself, and I wish you happi 
 ness, but let me say that if I were to find myself in
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 22/ 
 
 love with a woman I would flee from her as from 
 a pestilence, and the more I loved her, the faster 
 I would flee. Wait." He held up his hand. "I 
 lived with my brother a number of years and I 
 know what marriage is. It is a life amid the 
 howlings and squallings of young children and 
 the neglect and insults of older ones. The more 
 you love your wife the worse it is, for then you are 
 a slave, your very thoughts are enchained you 
 are a fly in a jelly glass. I don't wish to discour 
 age you, sir; and by the way, I don't think it is a 
 subject for laughter, either. Great universities 
 are not founded by men too much in love with one 
 woman ; humanity must be your bride and advance 
 ment your best man." 
 
 "Don't worry, Professor; the university is all 
 right." 
 
 "I hope so, and yet this contemplated marriage 
 frightens me. Why, that fair creature, like her 
 grandmother, might threaten to scald me." 
 
 "No danger of that. Ida is as gentle as an 
 angel." 
 
 "That may be, and angels might threaten to 
 scald. We never know at one moment how a
 
 228 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 woman is going to break out the next. Oh, some 
 of them are beautiful and lovely, I admit that; 
 but I would run from marriage like a dog running 
 from a nest of bumble bees. A man prides himself 
 upon being free; then why surrender his freedom? 
 He knows that marriage is slavery; he can't help 
 but see it, and yet his eye-sight teaches him noth 
 ing. The poor man by merely looking round can 
 see that marriage has made a work-horse of his 
 friend, and yet like a fool he marries his friend's 
 daughter. It's not so bad with the rich man, for 
 he can get away from it occasionally; he can hire 
 people to share his trouble. And look at woman. 
 Marriage is her death. Three children and then 
 where is her laughter? It has turned to scolding. 
 She can't help it; "her misery must express itself. 
 How I did pity that fool brother of mine; and 
 when I had stood it as long as I could, I packed 
 up my traps and out I put. Do you suppose that 
 his wife cared for moral philosophy? Why, hang 
 her, she said that I was crazy and mind you, she 
 persuaded her husband to have them overtake me 
 and clap me into an asylum. Marriage did that. 
 If my brother hadn't been married he would have 
 had more sense."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 22Q 
 
 "But marriage shall not interfere with any of our 
 plans, Professor." He could not let him down 
 now; the delusion must be kept up. 
 
 "Mr. Hawley, I am grateful to you, sir. You 
 may be the one man superior to the troubles of 
 such an entanglement; I hope you are. But I tell 
 you that I was really frightened when I heard that 
 you were going to give up this life of easy inde 
 pendence. Philosophy does not enter the married 
 state; philosophy has its eye upon the broad field 
 of mankind and not upon a mere truck-patch of 
 children. Animals mate, but science is above nar 
 row selection; the beast evinces an affection which 
 after all is but a carnal selfishness, but supreme 
 intelligence stands alone. I hope I have not dis 
 couraged you, sir." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Well by the flint-hoofs of the devil, the man 
 hasn't listened to me! What, already robbed of 
 understanding? Mr. Hawley, my fears are com 
 ing up again, sir." 
 
 "Drive them down, Professor." 
 
 "I will, sir; I will hit them on the head and 
 drive them down like nails. Well, I must go."
 
 230 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 He took up his hat and his cudgel and strode out, 
 but suddenly he stopped when near the yard gate, 
 wheeled about and came back to the door. "Mr. 
 Hawley, are you sure she won't threaten to scald 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes, I am quite sure." 
 
 "I hope that I may in time be able to share 
 your confidence sir, but at present I am uneasy. 
 I can conceive of nothing more desolate than a 
 philosophy drenched with hot water. But I won't 
 draw pictures to illustrate my fear; they frighten 
 me. I will shut my eyes and place my faith in you. 
 By the way I am progressing well with my medita 
 tions; I shall soon be ready." 
 
 Hawley strolled about the farm, through the 
 woods-lot, down the branch, over the stubble 
 where the black birds followed the plough. Pres 
 ently he heard Aunt Lily's voice, calling him, and 
 returning to the house he found John Roark and 
 the widow Binson, seated in the library, making 
 themselves at home. And he could have wished 
 them further away than home, further than any 
 Christian's home. Roark said that he was going 
 to town for a very short time, and that his sister
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 231 
 
 would wait, if Hawley had no objection, until he 
 returned, when they were both to start on a journey 
 down the creek. Hawley muttered an acquiescent 
 lie, and the widow, smiling, smirking, making dis 
 agreeable noises with her lips, said that her re 
 maining there until her brother returned might not 
 suit the notions of society, but that she paid no 
 attention to shallow customs. Roark laughed, the 
 sneeze of a steer, and took his leave; the sister 
 smoothed her skirts and rocked herself. 
 
 "Terrible storm we had yesterday," she said. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Hadn't been so narrow it would have done a 
 great deal of harm." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Such storms are not common in this country." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Mr. Hawley will you excuse me if I make an 
 observation? You know I'm something of a priv- 
 leiged character. What arn I talking about ? Of 
 course you'll excuse me. You are a sensible man. 
 Well, for some time I have been intending to say 
 this to you, but never had the chance, not that 
 any one's overhearing it would make any particular
 
 232 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 difference, but because well, you know how such 
 things are. What I wanted to say is this: You 
 ought not to live here alone; you ought to have 
 some one to take care of your house, to look after 
 things in general. And pardon me, but you don't 
 want a young and inexperienced thing; but a 
 woman. Life is not a mere holiday, Mr. Hawley; 
 it is as real as the earth itself. And while there 
 may be a momentary pleasure in romance, yet it is 
 our duty to be practical so that we may face trouble 
 when it comes, and it will come. Now why don't 
 you select some good, thorough-going, practical 
 woman to share your home with you? Pardon me 
 if I am too bold, but why don't you?" 
 
 During this flow of words Hawley walked about 
 the room, sometimes looking in astonishment at 
 the woman, sometimes gazing out over the fields; 
 and when she again smoothed her skirts as an 
 evidence that her say had been said, he sat down, 
 sharply eyed her for a moment, and remarked: 
 "Madam, in your turn you will please pardon me. 
 The old saying that every man should attend to 
 his own business, does not apply alone to man, 
 but reaches woman as well."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 233 
 
 "Oh, now, Mr. Hawley, don't try to get out of it 
 that way. You know that it is your duty to your 
 self and to society " 
 
 "I thought you cared nothing for society." 
 
 "Oh, I don't as a general thing, but there are 
 times when we must pay some little attention to 
 it; and this is one of them." 
 
 "This is not one of the times when I pay atten 
 tion to it. And I must again ask you to pardon 
 me, but I don't need any advice." 
 
 "There are times when we all need advice," she 
 said. 
 
 "And there are also times when we won't take 
 it," he replied. 
 
 "Oh, if you say you won't I suppose you won't; 
 but I think that I am talking to you for your own 
 good. You know we have all become attached to 
 you. But there's one phase that you must consider." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Scandal." 
 
 "Scandal! I don't undertsand you." 
 
 "Now you are a sensible, a very sensible man 
 and surely can't be blind to the fact that talk may 
 arise it has arisen."
 
 234 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "I still don't understand you." 
 
 "You have a housekeeper." 
 
 He made no reply to this but looked at his 
 watch. "How long do you think your brother will 
 be gone ?" he asked. 
 
 "Oh, that needn't concern you. I can go now." 
 
 "If you please." 
 
 She stood in the door and looked at him from 
 head to foot, slowly moving her eyes. "You have 
 ordered me out of your house," she said. 
 
 "I haven't invited you to remain in it." 
 
 "But you may wish you had. My brother will 
 see you, sir." 
 
 "Only for a short time, I hope." 
 
 "Long enough for you." 
 
 "A minute, eh?" 
 
 "You may think it an eternity." 
 
 "Good-bye." 
 
 She was gone. Hawley walked up and down 
 the room, frowning at the chair in which she had 
 sat, scowling at the door in which she had stood. 
 Why had this harsh-winged bug buzzed its way 
 into his repose, poisoning the soft air with a foul 
 odor? He stood at the window, looking toward
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 235 
 
 town, hoping to see Roark coming back. He saw 
 the woman walking toward the turn-pike. He went 
 out into the yard, and still restless, walked up and 
 down the path between the house and the gate. 
 His shoe-heels cut gashes in the hard walk-way. 
 Old Lily called him to dinner; he wanted no 
 dinner. He stood upon the fence, holding the limb 
 of a tree to steady himself, looking toward the 
 turn-pike. He saw a man walking along. The 
 woman stopped him. They stood for a moment 
 and then walked on together, but not in the fields 
 toward the house. He watched them until a dip 
 in the road hid them from view. He went into 
 the house and sought to calm himself with writing 
 to Dr. Ford, but the pen spluttered and the ink 
 would not flow. He crumpled the paper, threw it 
 on the floor and went out again. Nearly an hour 
 passed and his hot blood had begun to cool. He 
 returned to the library and was writing when 
 some one spoke to him. He looked up and saw 
 Lige Crump standing in the door. 
 
 "Come in." 
 
 "I've come on pressing business and haven't got 
 but a minute to stay," he said, stepping inside.
 
 236 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 
 
 "Sit down." 
 
 "No, I thank you." He stood silent, solemn 
 and then he added: "I've just come from John 
 Roark. He says you insulted his sister." 
 
 "He's a liar. She insulted me." 
 
 "But now, here, Cap'n, you don't want any 
 quarrel with a woman." 
 
 "No, and not with a man either. I don't quarrel. 
 But why didn't Roark come himself?" 
 
 "Because he preferred to send me." 
 
 "Well, you go back and tell him to come." 
 
 "I will after I have got through with my business 
 with you. He wants an apology." 
 
 "He'll not get it." 
 
 "Then, sir, that makes it necessary for us to go 
 through with a little preamble. John Roark is a 
 gentleman." 
 
 "He is not; he is a bully and a liar. Get out of 
 this house!" 
 
 "What, you order me out?" 
 
 "Yes, and if you don't get out I'll kick you out. 
 Get out this minute, and tell that scoundrel if I 
 ever catch him on this place again I'll thrash him 
 within an inch of his life. Did you hear what I 
 said?"
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 237 
 
 "I will take him your message, but I don't like 
 the way you talk." 
 
 "I don't care what you like. You are an infernal 
 coward and the agent of an infernal coward! Are 
 you going?" 
 
 Hawley sprang from his chair. Crump stepped 
 outside. Hawley sat down and took up his pen. But 
 a moment later he looked out and saw Crump going 
 through the woods-lot, shaking his fist in the air. 
 He turned again to his writing, but too wrought 
 up to express himself in pliant terms, he shoved 
 himself back and sat musing. A foot-step. Had 
 that scoundrel returned? He got up. The Judge 
 was at the door. 
 
 "Come in, you are the very man I want to 
 see." 
 
 "I couldn't ask for a pleasanter welcome than 
 that, my dear boy. But what's gone wrong?" the 
 old man asked, sitting down and gazing with sharp 
 eyes at Hawley. "Why, I gad, sir, you look as if 
 you want to fight somebody." 
 
 Hawley told him of the visit of Roark and the 
 widow; of Roark's request that his sister might 
 remain until he should return from town; minutely
 
 238 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 related the conversation that had taken place be 
 tween himself and the woman; told of the call he 
 had received from Lige Crump. The old man 
 could not sit still; hard wrinkles shifted about on 
 his face; he winked as if he had pepper in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Infamous scoundrel!" he exclaimed, "out-crop 
 ping of a trundle-bed! Why didn't you cut his 
 throat. Gentleman ! Merciful God, what has the 
 country come to. And he came with a challenge 
 from this gentleman. Now you know what we 
 mean by white trash. By the Eternal, he ought 
 to be ham-strung for his presumption. Fight a 
 duel with that beef! And the challenge was 
 brought by that lank wretch that we have all 
 tolerated so long. I have felt sorry for him because 
 I thought he was trying to be some body, and 
 morever I supposed that he knew how to keep his 
 place, but I might have known better. You re 
 member one day when he had filled my house with 
 his dogs he said that his daughter was thinking 
 of coming over to see Ida. That stuck me to the 
 quick, and I ought to have let out on him right 
 there, but I restrained myself. What, a member
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 239 
 
 of his family come to my house on terms of 
 equality? Gad, sir, you ought to have cut his 
 throat. No, that wouldn't have been right. It 
 would have soiled your floor and put you to trouble 
 afterwards, but you ought to have called some 
 body from the stable and had him thrown out with 
 a fork. Thrash him if you ever catch him on the 
 place again. Yes, tramp him into the earth. You 
 see now why our democracy was not so broad here 
 as it was in the north. People of blood had to 
 hold themselves aloof from common stock. The 
 slightest encouragement was presumed upon. I 
 remember hearing it told that an ignorant lout 
 walked into my father's dining-room with his coat 
 off simply because the old gentleman, on several 
 occasions, had said, 'good morning, sir.' It simply 
 won't do to mix with them, that's all. If you 
 make an equal of a man who is not your equal he 
 is sure, sooner or later, to insult you. But let us 
 not talk about such disagreeable things. Ida tells 
 me that you speak of going to Chicago for a few 
 days." 
 
 "Yes, and I am just writing to Dr. Ford, to tell 
 him when to expect me."
 
 240 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Do you know, sir, that I have half a mind to 
 go with you?" 
 
 "I wish you would, Judge." 
 
 "Well, sir, I don't see what's to prevent it. I 
 have never been in the North, have never wanted 
 to go until now. Let me see. I'll have a little 
 business in court about two weeks from now." 
 
 "But we'll be back in time." 
 
 "I will go with you, sir." 
 
 With a Chicago man's ardor, Hawley stimulated 
 the Judge's curiosity; told him of the tall build 
 ings, the tallest in the world; of the trade estab 
 lishments, the largest in the world; of the fire 
 department, the best in the world; of the increase 
 in population, the most wonderful in the world; of 
 the thronged streets, intense life, parks, boulevards. 
 And thus the old man's going was placed beyond 
 all question. He listened as a child might listen 
 to the story of the vine that came up in a night 
 and spread its broad shade at morning; and he 
 shook his head, not in doubt, but in wonder at 
 these man-wrought miracles. The story was not 
 new to him, but it was the first time that he had 
 heard it without prejudice. Chicago had been the
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 24! 
 
 abode of men who sneered at the slowness of his 
 community and applied the term of sloth to its 
 easy life, its respectability. But now he felt that 
 this monstrous town, grasping, grinding, wkh a 
 maw always eager for more than could be crammed 
 into it, had suddenly brought forward a kinsman's 
 claim upon him. 
 
 Hawley talked of the changes he intended to 
 make in the house; of new furniture, rich hangings, 
 deep carpets; decorators should come from 
 Chicago and touch the walls with soft tints, but 
 the light of it all should be a portrait of his wife, 
 done by some famous painter. 
 
 "That's all very fine," said the old man, "and it 
 gladdens me to see you so delighted with the pros 
 pect, but don't forget to thrash those scoundrels if 
 you ever catch them on this farm again." 
 
 "I won't forget that, Judge; it would probably 
 be better if I could. But it is unfortunate that such 
 a thing should come up just at this time, when I 
 saw so much brightness in the narrow scope of my 
 own vision that I thought the whole world had sud 
 denly become happy." 
 
 "Yes, that's true, sir, but we shouldn't allow 
 
 Tennessee Judge 16
 
 242 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 ourselves to be run over simply because we arc 
 happy. As for me, I am afraid of happiness; it 
 always comes just a little in advance of a disap 
 pointment. One of the happiest moments in my 
 life was out yonder under those oak trees. It was 
 my ambition to be the supreme judge of this state, 
 and my friends, able and strong men, came to me 
 of their own accord and told me that I was their 
 choice. They were powerful enough to swing the 
 convention, but at the eleventh hour, when the 
 convention which met at Nashville was about to 
 declare in my favor, the head of a Judas popped 
 up. His treachery turned the tide turned me out 
 of that hall a crushed and sorrowed man. And 
 ever since then I have been afraid of happiness, 
 of apparent victory, for I feel that a mischief and 
 a bitterness- lurk behind it. But my time is com 
 ing, just as sure as you're sitting there it is coming. 
 The devil brings defeat, but God brings the time 
 when we can fill our souls with a just vengeance. 
 Preachers have talked to me about forgiveness. 
 Justice never forgives; it doesn't know how." 
 
 "Yes, but pity forgives," Hawley replied. 
 
 "Ah, I grant you, but if pity ruled, there' d be
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 243 
 
 no justice. Mind you, sir, that I am not now 
 speaking of slight offenses, but of the basest 
 treachery. A man might cheat me in a horse 
 trade, and I could forgive him; he might lie about 
 me, seeking to injure my name, and I could forget 
 it, but when he professes to be my friend and then 
 sells my ambition as if it were a rag well, we 
 won't talk about it." 
 
 "And above all," said Hawley, "let us not think 
 about it. I believe that it is our duty to be 
 happy 
 
 "The voice of youth," the old man broke in. 
 "Youth says, 'come and be happy with me;' old 
 age gravely shakes its head and replies, 'wait and 
 be miserable with me.' And there we are; one 
 running forward toward an object > the other looking 
 back at a. shadow. Ah, my dear boy, no young 
 man in this state had better prospects than I. 
 Carefully educated, fond of reading, quick to see 
 a point in law, given to reason and to convincing 
 argument; but practically it all came to nothing." 
 
 "How can you say that, Judge. You have had 
 your victories in the court-house, you have won 
 esteem; and you have been buoyed on the rosy 
 surge of love's emotion "
 
 244 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Hold on, now, sir; hold on. Remember that 
 my legs are old and that I can't trot after you as 
 you gallop about with your camel's hair brush and 
 pot of paint, touching everything with a pink hue 
 Yes, I have loved, loved with jealous fierceness, 
 with no cooing song but with the cry of the panther 
 at night. The girl had seemed to love another 
 man. And who was he? That same Gordon P. 
 Hensley. But I married her and he came to 
 me and said he knew she could never love him; 
 he swore that he would be my friend for life. But 
 he carried his dagger year after year, and when 
 the time came he drove it into me; and year after 
 year has passed since then, but a time is coming 
 when my wrath, my justice will strike him, not 
 with a treachery, but with death. But I won't 
 talk about him." 
 
 "You say that you have loved," Hawley remarked 
 after a short silence. 
 
 "Yes, when I was young; and it was a love that 
 would look wild and ghastly under the material 
 istic light of these glaring days." 
 
 "But can't an old man love?" 
 
 "He can worship a child but he can't love a
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 245 
 
 woman. He may have a foolish fondness for her 
 and may snivel if she's out of his sight, but noble 
 love belongs to the young. It may endure through 
 life, but when broken, the soul has had its career 
 and loves not again. It must be going to rain," 
 he added. "My old bones ache. Is that Willis 
 coming-in there at the gate?" 
 
 "Yes," Hawley answered, looking out. "Co,me 
 in Willis." 
 
 Mr. Willis came in, cut his gestured greeting in 
 two, giving one bow to Hawley and the other to 
 the Judge, and threw in a few scollops to make 
 good his heaping measure of politeness. He was 
 delighted to see them looking so well, and was 
 pleased to say that he had never felt better in his 
 life. 
 
 "Willis," said Hawley, "I noticed two or three 
 wagon loads of horse heads, shank bones and hoofs 
 piled up in a corner over at the north edge of the 
 clover field; and one of the men told me that you 
 had them hauled from a bone-yard somewhere and 
 put there. What are they for?" 
 
 "My dear sir, I will explain, since my call this 
 morning is directly in that line. Asparagus, as
 
 246 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 pure, as pearly and as pink as it looks in its com 
 bination of tints, draws its best sustenanc from 
 decaying animal life, or body, or bone, I should 
 say. And these heaped up evidences of mortality 
 that you have observed, are to form the basis of 
 an asparagus bed, some eighteen feet broad and 
 thirty feet long. It will be dug out four feet deep; 
 the bones shall go at the bottom and then placed 
 upon them there shall be a thick strata of richest 
 fertilizer. We'll not be able to realize on our in 
 vestment this year, but next year " He shaded 
 his eyes with his hand. "The sight as it comes 
 up in my mind, dazzles me. From one end of 
 the country to the other we will be referred to as 
 authorities on asparagus." He coughed. "I have 
 stretched my credit somewhat, and now I must 
 have about two hundred dollars to complete the 
 work so happily begun." 
 
 "Willis," said Hawley, "I don't want to go into 
 the asparagus business; I don't eat it, and I 
 wouldn't give two hundred dollars for ten acres of 
 it. I told you that you might have all the land 
 you wanted, but 1 didn't tell you that I wanted the 
 farm underpinned with bones and studded with
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 247 
 
 horse-hoofs. I don't want any asparagus. I'm not 
 a market gardener." 
 
 Willis had let his hat to fall to the floor. He 
 took it up, dented the top of it, placed it on his 
 head and with heavy feet slowly strode toward the 
 door. 
 
 "I will pay the bills thus far, Willis, but I don't 
 want any more hoofs." 
 
 Willis turned about. His face was a chart of 
 sorrow and distress. 
 
 "And yet they insist that there is a God," said 
 he. "Gentlemen, I will bid you good-bye. In 
 some of the mazes of this tangled life you may 
 meet me again, but I doubt it. The slide of the 
 lantern has been shoved; the light is shut off. 
 An hour ago I was a strong man, proud that my 
 original ancestor was made in the image of his 
 creator. Now I am a piece of black and blue flesh, 
 beaten, bruised by misfortune. Mr. Hawley, on 
 your part this may not have been a wanton cruelty, 
 but you have crushed the life out of me, sir; and 
 sir, should you pass the place where those bones 
 and horse heads were piled, together with hope and 
 the brightest prospects, look among them and you
 
 248 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 may find the stiffened remains of your humble 
 servant. Look closer and on a shoulder blade, 
 serving as a tombstone, you may find these words, 
 written by the hand of despair: 'He died because 
 he strove to be a gentleman ! Judge, I have some 
 business with you and shall come over to your 
 house." 
 
 "Come very soon, Charles, for Hawley and I are 
 going to Chicago in a day or two." 
 
 "What, you don't tell me! Going in a day or 
 two! Let me see: I am just a little pressed for 
 money at present, but I may decide to go with 
 you. Yes, I will go. Oh, how tired one gets of 
 the dreary existence in this quiet pace. No change 
 from day to day." 
 
 "Charles," said the Judge, "there are times when 
 your company is very acceptable but I don't want 
 you to go to Chicago with me. I don't want to 
 be rendered conspicuous, sir." 
 
 Willis pressed his hand to his brow. "A ray of 
 hope and then a settled darkness," he said. "All 
 things turn against me; even my old friends gibe 
 me. The bone-yard, Charles Willis; the bone- 
 yard. That's the only place for you."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 249 
 
 "Wait a moment," Hawley called after him as he 
 stepped out. The despondent man turned back. 
 
 "As I said Willis, I don't want your services in 
 the way of raising asparagus, but I am more than 
 willing to give you employment. You may take 
 charge of the agricultural end of the place, and I 
 will pay you well for your services. 
 
 Willis looked up, and standing in the attitude of 
 attentive listening, remarked: "An echo, was 
 that an echo? No, it was a voice direct from a 
 human being. Mr Hawley, you have not only 
 saved my life, but have shot my breast full of as 
 pirations. Gentlemen, your humble servant wishes 
 you a pleasant trip."
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Early on Tuesday morning they were to start, 
 and Monday evening in the Judge's house, was a 
 time of active preparation. Hawley was with 
 them, watching their anxiety, listening to their 
 speculations, answering with a smile odd questions 
 that were gravely put; sometimes laughing but 
 with sympathetic softness. To Ida, the name of 
 no town had ever sounded so far away, and when 
 she took a map and looked for Chicago, she de 
 clared that it had been moved since she went to 
 school. The train might run off the track; she 
 had just read of an accident in Indiana; a train 
 had rolled down an embankment, and was smashed 
 against the rocks. And that was the very road 
 they were to go over. Hawley must telegraph as 
 soon as he got there ; no, a telegram would frighten 
 her; he must write as soon as he got off the train. 
 She would think of him every minute of the time 
 
 250
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 25! 
 
 he was gone; she thought of him every minute of 
 the time anyway. 
 
 They were to be married shortly after his return. 
 The hum of a dress maker's sewing-machine had 
 been heard in the house all day, and at evening 
 Hawley had seen her slyly gathering up bits of 
 white satin and pieces of ribbon; had seen her 
 smile in woman's knowing way; had heard her tell 
 old Milly that Ida would "look like a dream of 
 loveliness." 
 
 The Judge had his old white hat ironed. It had 
 been intimated by a neighbor who had traveled that 
 he ought to get a new one, but this hint was met 
 half way with a frown. He had worn it in the 
 presence of distinguished men, had worn one 
 exactly like it, one as old, into the executive cham 
 ber when Andrew Johnson was military governor 
 of Tennessee; and he had stood there with it on 
 his head even after old Johnson had bowed to him. 
 He brought out an old carpet-bag, covered with 
 faded designs, beat the dust out of it, rubbed the 
 rust off the catch and ordered old Milly to put his 
 shirts, his tooth-brush, his bag of tobacco into it. 
 But this was a little more than Hawley could
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 stand. He knew that the bag would invite the 
 contempt of the sleeping car porter and call from 
 the street boy innumerable gibes and "joshings." 
 
 "Judge, I don't believe I'd carry that," he said. 
 
 "Why not, sir? It's just the thing." 
 
 "Just the thing to excite laughter in the street." 
 
 "What's that? Laughter? Is it the custom to 
 laugh at a gentleman that's attending to his own 
 affairs? If that's the case, I'd better not go. I've 
 carried it to New Orleans time and again and no 
 one ever laughed at me. But if you say so, I won't 
 take it." 
 
 "You better not take it, gramper," Ida spoke up. 
 "There is my valise. Why not take that?" 
 
 "All right, it shall be as you say, but I gad, 
 things have come to a pretty pass when a man 
 must consult everything but his own convenience. 
 Hawley," he added, turning the carpet-bag over 
 and looking at it, "I reckon you are right, sir; it 
 does look a little tough. Madam, we want break 
 fast by four o'clock in the morning?" 
 
 "Why, the train doesn't get here until seven and 
 it won't take us more than fifteen minutes to drive 
 to the station," Hawley remarked.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 253 
 
 "That's all very well, but we want plenty of 
 time. Mandy, tell Milly to have breakfast by four. 
 What have you got there?" 
 
 "A piece of goods I want you to match in 
 Chicago," his wife answered. 
 
 "Ha, and you have waited until the last moment 
 to put this clamp on me, have you? Do you think 
 I'm going to trot all over the town trying to match 
 a piece of goods? And have to carry it between 
 my thumb and finger all the way to keep from 
 forgetting it? Hawley's old friend will say, 'and 
 this is your first visit to our town,' and I will 
 answer, 'yes, I've come to match a scrap of goods. ' 
 Madam, you can go right into town to the place 
 where you got the stuff and have it matched in a 
 few minutes. It's an astonishing thing to me that 
 a woman always wants to have goods matched at 
 some strange place. What is the origin of that 
 antipathy, hah? Is it the hope that you may get a 
 better piece than the original?" 
 
 "Oh, what's the use of talking on that way, 
 Judge?" his wife replied. "I didn't think it would 
 be any trouble for you to step into a store and 
 have the thing matched. It wouldn't for me, I
 
 254 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 know. Anybody to hear you talk would think I 
 had asked you to go somewhere and blow up a 
 mountain. I never saw such a man in my life. I 
 can't ask you to do a thing that you don't snort 
 about it." 
 
 "Give it to me; give it to me and as soon as I 
 get there I will jump off the train and butt my way 
 into a store. Give it to me, I say." 
 
 "I'll do nothing of the sort. I'll get it matched 
 myself to-morrow when I go to town." 
 
 "Now don't talk in that resigned way, Mandy. 
 I'll get it for you; it really won't be any trouble. 
 How much do you want? Twenty yards. All 
 right, I'll get it for you. I didn't mean to hurt 
 your feelings." 
 
 Long before day Hawley heard the old man 
 thumping about the house, and he heard him swear 
 by the Eternal that it beat anything he ever saw 
 in his life; and upon going down stairs, he found 
 the Judge rummaging in the hall closet. The old 
 man slowly straightened up, wiped his brow, shook 
 his head. "I've heard of a good many strange 
 things in my life, but this takes the lead of all 
 mysteries I ever had anything to do with," he 
 declared.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 255 
 
 Havvley asked what the trouble was. The old 
 man snorted. "I don't know that you can call it 
 a trouble," he answered. "Infernal miracle would 
 lit it better. Why, sir, when I went to bed last 
 night I left my hat hanging on a peg and now it's 
 nowhere to be found. I've hunted everywhere, 
 in the most out of the way places, into places 
 where the devil himself wouldn't think of hiding 
 a thing and yet I can't find*it. Thought that the 
 dog might have jumped up there and got it and I 
 took a lantern and hunted all over the yard but it 
 was nowhere to be found." 
 
 Ida came out into the hall. "Gramper you must 
 have left it some whereelse," she said. 
 
 "Don't you suppose I know what I did? I left 
 it hanging right up there, I tell you." 
 "Have you looked in the dining-room?" 
 "I have looked everywhere but I'll look again." 
 He went out and Ida, watching the door and 
 speaking low lest the old man might hear her, 
 said: "Grams and I got him another hat and hid 
 that one. Tell him that you have a new hat that 
 will just fit him and pretend to send after it while 
 we are at breakfast. Here he comes."
 
 256 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "If a man were to offer to explain this mystery 
 for a thousand dollars, I would take him up." 
 
 "We haven't time to unravel it now, Judge," 
 Hawley said, and after pretending to think for a 
 moment he added: "I have a new one that will 
 just fit you. We'll send a boy after it." 
 
 "He has already gone," said Ida. 
 
 "All right. What sort of a hat is it?" 
 
 Hawley looked at the girl. "Why, you told me 
 that it was the nicest sort of a black, silk hat," she 
 said. 
 
 "So it is," he replied. 
 
 "All right," the old man agreed, "I'll wear it, but 
 I hate anything new as I do a snake. Come, we 
 must have breakfast or we'll be left," 
 
 Breakfast was not quite ready and he impatiently 
 walked up and down the hall, looking out at the 
 slowly fading darkness, listening as if he expected 
 to hear the rumble of the train, 
 
 At last they were ready to start. The boy had 
 brought the hat; the buggy was at the gate. Ida 
 had fled to her room. They got in and were driving 
 off when Mrs. Trapnell cried to them to stop. 
 
 "What's the matter?" the Judge asked.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 257 
 
 "I just wanted to remind you not to forget that 
 goods. Twenty yards, remember." 
 
 Tennessee Judge 17
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 They arrived in Chicago early Wednesday even 
 ing. When they got off the train, the old man 
 halted on the platform, looked about, marveled at 
 the bigness of the railway station, asked a question 
 of a baggage man, and would have drawn him into 
 conversation had the man been so inclined or had 
 Hawley not taken him by the arm and hastened 
 him away. They went over to State Street and 
 then walked northward. Backward and forward 
 swirled the current of an endless crowd, and when 
 first taken adrift, the old man uttered that one word 
 which is said to be the first poem, the first expres 
 sion of human emotion, "O!" He had seen great 
 crowds, had seen armies march, but they were 
 directed by a single mind, holding a single object 
 in view, but here interests were wide apart, an 
 tagonistic; here was the battle of life, commanded 
 by no general; the guerrilla warfare of avarice, love, 
 
 hate, honesty, villainy, aspiration, lust, all indi- 
 
 253
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 259 
 
 vidualized. Some sudden, majesty or great 
 deformity of the present frightens the mind back to 
 the quiet past, and the memory of this old man, 
 sweeping backward, recalled a time of politeness 
 when man was quick of anger but slow of rudeness. 
 But in this great throng he saw not politeness, not 
 anger, only rudeness. He mused, as well as the 
 jostle and the clang would permit him, that this 
 town in its wild and unmeasured strength, was a 
 mocker of old communities, that too young to have 
 a memory it scoffed at tradition. Suddenly it 
 struck him that this was not a foreign city and 
 with pride he dwelt upon the fact that he was an 
 American. But the crowd still angered him. The 
 fermenting life within great shops appeared to burst 
 the doors and pour out a feverish stream to mingle 
 with the heated tide that swept along. At each 
 step there was a new confusion; the harsh cry of 
 a newsboy, of the man that had the latest popular 
 songs for sale, of the Italian with a wagon load of 
 pears, the shriek of the toy whistle, the clang of a 
 bell, the "look out there" of a teamster. The old 
 man thought that he had walked miles; he had 
 come but the distance of five blocks.
 
 26O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 Hawley was thrilled. Like one who turns from 
 the rich windings of a long, vague poem to lively 
 and explicit prose, who holds the poem dear while 
 delighted with the prose, he saw a thousand things 
 to enliven him, to quicken his blood. He walked 
 with a lighter step; he saw with a sharper eye. 
 He was in the world again and the world was won 
 derful. He was glad that he could divide his time 
 between that farm and this great city; he was 
 thankful that Ida consented to this arrangement. 
 Of course he could live anywhere with her, but 
 how the magnetism of this hurrying life moved 
 him, and how he should regret to be cut off per 
 manently from it. A friend in bumping past slapped 
 him on the shoulder and cried as he hastened on, 
 "Been out o^town?" Another man stopped him 
 and asked: "Have you been sick; I've missed 
 you for some time." 
 
 They went as far as Madison Street, turned west, 
 passed Dearborn and entered a restaurant, white 
 with marble, flashing with mirrors. The old man 
 stood for- a moment like a startled hare, that 
 with ears up sticking, eyes apop, knows not which 
 way to jump. He ducked his head as he passed
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 26 1 
 
 under the black blades that whirled above, shot a 
 look of resentment at an electric fan that hummed 
 on the wall, sent his pride out after his self-pos 
 session and when both returned to him, he sat 
 down on a chair which a waiter drew out for him, 
 looked about, folded his napkin and was a stoic. 
 
 From the restaurant they went to Hawley's 
 rooms in Randolph Street where the janitor of the 
 building met them with the announcement that 
 everything was in readiness. In his politeness, 
 his soft voice and apparent pleasure at seeing them 
 the Judge saw a courteous and well-bred man; 
 Hawley saw a strong appeal for extra money. 
 
 The old man was delighted with the arrange 
 ment, the comfort of the rooms. "You haven't 
 got beds here too, have you ?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, there's your room, off there." 
 
 "Well, it will not be long until I tumble into 
 bed, I tell you. I'm worn out." 
 
 "Won't you take a toddy or something before 
 lying down ?" 
 
 "Is it the custom of your town, sir?" 
 
 "Well, I don't know that it has been regulated 
 into a custom," Hawley answered, smiling, "but if
 
 262 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 you want it, take it. You can't go by customs 
 here; there is none, in fact. Every man is supposed 
 to do pretty much as he pleases." 
 
 "I thought that life in a great city was more 
 regulated than that." 
 
 "Life in a great city, except in society, is a free 
 dom unknown in the country." 
 
 "That's all nonsense, sir, but we'll let it go." 
 
 "All right. The Doctor must be out on a call," 
 he added, looking at his watch. "I expected him 
 to meet us. There he comes. No," he continued 
 as footsteps passed his door. "Yes it is," he 
 added, hearing some one speak to the janitor. He 
 opened the door. Old Doctor Ford grabbed him 
 by the hand. 
 
 The two old men were introduced. They eyed 
 each other sharply and shook hands, the former 
 slave owner and the former abolitionist, the old 
 democrat and the old whig. 
 
 "You have taken good care of my friend Hawley," 
 said the Doctor. 
 
 "He has taken good care of himself, sir," the 
 Judge answered. 
 
 The talk started off a little stiffly at first, one
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 263 
 
 seeming to think that he was called upon to defend 
 himself, the other apparently afraid that he might 
 commit an aggression. But they soon came to 
 that understanding, that agreement which the aged 
 hold in common, a contempt for the present. 
 They talked about the great speeches that were 
 made in the earlier part of the century, of the 
 great things that were written, of men that had 
 courage to fight for their opinions. In those days the 
 editor of a newspaper was a courageous man; if he 
 refused to fight, his paper lost cast. Men were not 
 afraid to put their passions in print; but now, all 
 was puerility. "We no longer have a poet," said 
 the Doctor. 
 
 The Judge got up, solemnly shook hands with 
 him, smiled at Hawley and sat down. 
 
 "The Doctor is the president of a Shakespeare 
 club," said Hawley. 
 
 "Yes," replied the Doctor, "and not of an Oscar 
 Wild society. Talk about poetry written in these 
 days! Why, sir, it's the rhyme of the click, click, 
 click diluted passion thrashed out with a type 
 writer. Out of culture may come a pale beauty, 
 but a poet to be immortal must be mad!"
 
 264 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "I agree with you," said the Judge. "The South 
 has no poets now." 
 
 "And never had any for that matter, "the Doctor 
 replied. 
 
 "What's that!" the Judge exclaimed. "You 
 don't know what you're talking about. What 
 was Edgar Poe?" 
 
 "I beg pardon, Judge, he was a poet." 
 
 They dropped the subject; they were falling 
 away from their agreement. They talked about 
 the condition of the country and found it wretched. 
 There were no strikes in the old days, and it was 
 because the country was a democracy and not 
 merely a moneyocracy. But they were approach 
 ing dangerous ground again; they could see the 
 ugly slough of Calhounism, of slavery; and they 
 changed the subject. 
 
 "Bob," said the Doctor, "I'm glad to see you 
 looking so well; but ha, you ran away from 
 Chicago to save your hair and had your scalp taken 
 by a wood-side nymph. Judge, for some time 
 I've been telling Bob that he ought to get married, 
 but he paid no attention to me, and I am pleased 
 to know that Tennessee influences have brought 
 him to time."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE . . 265 
 
 "A man ought to get married when he finds 
 himself in love," the Judge replied. 
 
 "Yes, especially then," the Doctor rejoined, 
 "-but the married state is the natural condition of 
 man." 
 
 "We are taught to believe so, sir. My grand 
 daughter is a mere child, but she is a noble child, 
 with the quality of deep affection and without this 
 quality woman may shine but she's only a shell." 
 
 Hawley made them a toddy of brandy and a 
 roasted apple that the janitor brought from a 
 neighboring restaurant; and they joked, told 
 absurd stories, laughed; they might have been 
 taken for two friends come together after a lapse 
 of many years. Hawley w,as delighted. "I am 
 going to give you a dinner in these rooms to 
 morrow evening," said he, "and Doctor we'll have 
 Bates here. A young friend of ours who got mar 
 ried not long ago and declares that he's a slave," 
 he explained to the Judge. "He isn't the brightest 
 man I could pick out but he's an excellent fellow." 
 
 "But have you got a kitchen here too?" the 
 Judge asked. 
 
 "Oh, no; we'll send out and have the dinner 
 served here."
 
 266 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "But won't that be a great deal of trouble?" 
 
 The Doctor laughed. "You pay three prices for 
 every trouble you cause a restaurant in this town," 
 he said. "If you look everywhere else for a wolf 
 and fail to find him, go to an eating- house and there 
 he is, surrounded by his pack, catering mainly to 
 hogs. Well, I must go. Judge, I am greatly 
 pleased to have met you; it has done me good." 
 
 "What do you think of my old friend?" Hawley 
 asked when the Doctor's footsteps were no longer 
 heard. 
 
 "He may be narrow-minded in some things, sir, 
 but he's a gentleman," the old man answered. 
 "However, we must not expect a man of Puritan 
 stock to be liberal." 
 
 This tickled Hawley; there was so much of 
 human nature in it, so much of the old dispute 
 between the pot and the kettle. 
 
 The Judge was out of bed by daylight the next 
 morning. Hawley heard him walking about the 
 room, in the corridor, down the stairway; he 
 dozed again and waking, heard him coming back. 
 He had bought a newspaper and he sat reading it. 
 Presently he cried out: "Hawley yesterday was a 
 terrible day in this town, sir."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 267 
 
 "What's the trouble?" Hawley asked, opening 
 the door of the Judge's bedroom. 
 
 "Why, sir, a railroad engine ran into a street-car 
 and killed and crippled I don't know how many 
 people. Yes, and here's where a man is killed on 
 a bridge, and a woman is burned up, and a wall 
 falls down and buries a number of workmen. I 
 never heard of the like in my life; and I suppose 
 Dr. Ford will be kept busy all day." 
 
 "He'll probably not hear anything about it," 
 Hawley replied. 
 
 "He is obliged to hear about it. The paper is 
 full of it, I tell you." 
 
 "It's bad, of course, but it is almost of daily 
 occurrence here." 
 
 "And yet they call this a great city. Is this 
 slaughter a feature of its greatness?" 
 
 "Not a feature of its greatness, Judge, but an 
 example of its mishaps." 
 
 "Mishaps! Well I should think so. And by 
 the way if the people at home read about this 
 death harvest they'll be uneasy about us. Have 
 you written to Ida?" 
 
 "Yes, I scribbled her a note last night."
 
 268 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "How long now before we get something to eat? 
 I'm as hungry as a bear?" 
 
 "We'll go down in a few moments." 
 
 "All right; and can we go somewhere else besides 
 that glass place? They've got a lot of white 
 men in there to wait on people, and I don't like to 
 have a white man wait on me." 
 
 "But they are mainly foreigners, Judge," Hawley 
 replied, smiling. 
 
 "That so? Well then all right. We'll go there 
 and let them wait on us. By the way," he added, 
 pointing, "what are all those girls doing over there 
 in that roost?" 
 
 "That is what's known as a sweat shop, and 
 those creatures are giving their lives for about 
 three dollars a week." 
 
 "That's an infernal shame." 
 
 "Yes, but it can't be helped." 
 
 "It could be helped if there were any heart, any 
 soul remaining in the human family. I wouldn't 
 let a dog work for me that way. Let us cut short 
 our visit, Hawley; I've got no business here." 
 
 They spent the day with visiting places that 
 Hawley thought would interest the old man. They
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 269 
 
 went to Hawley's club, and the Judge was anxious 
 to get away; they went to the top story of the 
 Masonic Temple. The Judge looked out over the 
 lake, glanced down at the ground and said: "Let 
 us get down from here. This thing will fall down 
 the first thing we know." They went to the 
 Board of Trade. The old man gazed down upon 
 the turmoil in the pit and said: "We've got here 
 just in time to see it break up in a row. Hasn't 
 that fellow there got his throat cut?" 
 
 "No," Hawley answered, "he's got on a red 
 neck-tie." 
 
 "Well, I'll swear I thought they had cut his 
 wind-pipe. About what time do you think they'll 
 begin shooting?" 
 
 "They're all right; they are in their usual 
 humor." 
 
 "Well, let us leave them in it, sir." 
 
 They were in a street-car. The Judge got up 
 to give a woman his seat. Hawley got up and 
 said to him: "Here, you take mine." 
 
 "No, I thank you, sir; there is another lady 
 standing." 
 
 When they got off Hawley remarked: "You
 
 2/O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 would soon give up that politeness if you lived 
 here. It's like giving money in the street; there 
 is no end to it." 
 
 "No matter where I lived I shouldn't forget to 
 be polite in the presence of ladies, sir." 
 
 "But would you give up your seat in a theatre?" 
 
 "I don't know that I should. It is supposed 
 that each one has secured a seat before going there. 
 Politeness, sir, is an advocate of common sense." 
 
 They visited some of the court-rooms, and the 
 old man looked on gravely, critically; shook his 
 head at certain departures from time-fixed pro 
 cedure and turning away, said: ''They are either 
 too slow or in too much of a hurry, sir; they don't 
 know how to wear their dignity." 
 
 When they returned to Hawley's rooms they 
 found dinner ready to be served. The Doctor was 
 waiting for them, and in a short time Mr. Bates 
 arrived, a young man with a drawl in his voice, 
 pale, thin of hair. Bates asked the Judge if there 
 were any grizzly bears in his country and the old 
 man answered: "Not as many as there are in Chi 
 cago, sir." Bates apologized, said that he thought 
 the Judge lived in a new country. The Judge
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2/1 
 
 replied that his community had once been a part 
 of the old colony of North Carolina and that there 
 was no telling when it was first settled. Bates was 
 glad to learn this and he looked as though he would 
 make an effort to remember it; he felt an interest 
 in that part of the country now that Hawley had 
 bought a farm there. He and Bob were at college 
 together. 
 
 Dinner was served. The Judge looked at the 
 waiter to satisfy himself as to whether or not he 
 was a foreigner, and deciding that he was, ceased 
 to address him as sir. The two old men began to 
 talk about the past. They did not know what the 
 future of the country would be, but it was certain 
 that some sort of bloody conflict was soon to come. 
 The Doctor said that it would be labor, rising up 
 to overthrow capital. The Judge didn't know 
 about that. He was inclined to think that Protes 
 tants, driven to the very verge of their liberties, 
 would spring up like a tormented lion and defend 
 themselves against the encroachments of the pope. 
 Then there would be blood. And unfortunately 
 the country would not have a man like old Andrew 
 Jackson.
 
 2/2 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Let's see," said Bates, "he was impeached or 
 had some sort of trouble while president, I be 
 lieve." 
 
 The Judge dropped* his spoon. He shoved him 
 self back from the table, straightened up and gave 
 Bates a look that must have bored into him. 
 Hawley, with a napkin at his mouth, turned about 
 and ducked his head. Bates shifted in his chair. 
 "Of course I don't remember anything about it," 
 said he, "but from reading I gathered, or thought 
 I did, that Jackson was tried before the House." 
 
 "You mean Johnson, sir!" the Judge exclaimed. 
 
 "Perhaps it was Johnson." 
 
 "Perhaps!" the old man shouted. "By the 
 Eternal, it was Johnson." 
 
 "All right, then, it was my mistake. A man 
 can't keep track of all those things, you know. 
 Of course I know who Andrew Jackson was. He 
 was the man that told South Carolina that if she 
 didn't look out he would wallop the life out of her." 
 
 "He was," said the Judge, his countenance 
 softening, his eyes batting out their resentful cast, 
 his mouth losing its harsh severity. "I am glad, 
 sir, that you know something about the history of 
 your country."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 2/3 
 
 Again the Doctor and the Judge entered into a 
 agreement as to the glory of the past. The world 
 would never again see such an era as that through 
 which they had lived. Hawley got up, took a 
 candle out of his pocket, lighted it, placed it on the 
 table and snapped out the electric lights. 
 
 They looked at him in surprise. "Why, what 
 do you mean?" the Doctor asked. 
 
 "Oh, nothing. I knew what was coming and 
 have merely provided you gentlemen with a 
 feature of your younger days. Is it possible, Judge, 
 that you can't see. Sorry I couldn't get a tallow 
 candle." 
 
 The old man said nothing. He did not even 
 smile when the Doctor laughed. He had straight 
 ened himself and he sat stiffly oblivious to the joke. 
 "Here," said the Doctor, "snuff out that past and 
 turn on the present. This rude age has made our 
 old eyes dim." 
 
 "You are right," the Judge replied, relaxing, 
 smiling and turning with good humored ease to 
 ward the Doctor. "These youngsters are full of 
 their pranks, sir," said he, "and sometimes they 
 put it on us old chaps. Bob" it was the first 
 
 Tennessee Judge 18
 
 274 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 time he had called him Bob "that was a good 
 joke, a rare joke. And I gad, it makes a man 
 think. Doctor, there's a good deal of the fool 
 about an old man. A fool or a physician at forty, 
 you know, and some of us are not physicians at 
 eighty." 
 
 "Ah, and some of us are fools and physicians 
 at seventy," the Doctor replied. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Hawley, "since you have 
 announced your respective ages but I beg pardon, 
 I didn't know how that would sound." Then he 
 added: "The most contemptable fool of all is a 
 young man without reverence, and I came close to 
 putting myself down as such. By the way, Doc 
 tor, I'm going to take the Judge to see an extrav 
 aganza this evening. Won't you go along?" 
 
 "No, I'd rather have something more interest 
 ing. I may go somewhere and sit up with a corpse, 
 but I won't go to a stuffed leg performance." 
 
 "Oh, well," Hawley replied, "don't let us inter 
 fere with any livelier entertainment you may have 
 in view. Sit up with a corpse did you say? One 
 of your patients." 
 
 "Good!" the Doctor exclaimed, "but remember
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 275 
 
 that I am not vain I don't take so much pride 
 in my own work. But I might after a while; I 
 might possible get a whack at you." 
 
 "Yes, that's true; man knoweth not the day nor 
 the hour when the doctor and death may snatch 
 him. How about you Bates? Can you go?" 
 
 "No, I've got to get home. Told my wife that 
 I wouldn't stay out long." 
 
 "Still a slave, eh?" 
 
 "Not exactly a slave; a sort of hired man." 
 
 They went to an opera house, and when three 
 skirt dancers came on, the Judge, whispering, 
 asked: "Do respectable women come here?" 
 
 "Yes, some of the most fashionable women m 
 town." 
 
 "All right, then; if they can stand it I can. But 
 I'll swear I wouldn't bring a lady here. Just look 
 at that. And they are pretty, too, don't you see? 
 But I gad I'd rather see a daughter of mine buried 
 in the ground ten feet deep than to see her up 
 there dancing; and so would nine tenths of the 
 women in this audience, I warrant you, and yet 
 they come here to see somebody's daughters dance* 
 But I've got no right to talk; I'm here."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 He was startled at the ballet, the glow of color, 
 the flashing armor, the feathery dance; and like 
 an old horse that throws up his head at the sight 
 of rollicking colts, he gazed, the ancient barbarian 
 within him enraptured by these splendors of brass 
 and tin. 
 
 "What do you think of it?" Hawley asked as 
 they were coming out. 
 
 "I gad, it is simply marvelous, sir; I never saw 
 anything like it. And I can understand why 
 respectable people come here; respectability can't 
 aways put up with the dullness of the world; it 
 can't give over to vice all that is bright and en 
 tertaining." 
 
 When they reached Hawley 's rooms the old man 
 said that he could stand a great deal but that he 
 was worn out. He was tired of seeing, of hearing, 
 and he wanted to get away from this glaring hub 
 bub. He asked Hawley if he could do all his 
 trading in one day, and assured that it would re 
 quire only a few hours, he said: "All right, I will 
 wait here till you get through, and I think we'd 
 better start for home as soon as we can. I don't 
 think I could live here more than two days longer;
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 277 
 
 this is not an old man's town. And if I am called 
 upon to fight my way from daylight till dark, I'd 
 rather be permitted the use of some sort of a 
 weapon." 
 
 "All right, Judge, we'll start back to-morrow 
 evening." 
 
 Early the next morning Hawley found him sit 
 ting at a window with another chapter of accidents 
 in his hand. "They're still at it," he said. 
 "Woman killed while walking along the railroad 
 track, and they haven't taken the trouble to find 
 out her name. A man falls out of a window and 
 is crushed on the sidewalk and they have given 
 him three lines in the paper. What time does the 
 train start?" 
 
 "We'll leave here about seven." 
 
 "It's a long time till then. Seems to me that I 
 left home during the summer of 1845. Let's go 
 right down now and eat so you'll have plenty of 
 time. And you want to see Dr. Ford again, too. 
 But don't let that take you long." 
 
 "I'll be back in plenty of time, Judge." 
 
 "I hope so. Is there any danger of the road 
 changing the schedule ? This is just about the
 
 2/8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 time they would be likely to change it; they are 
 up to all sorts of tricks. If they can't kill a man 
 by running over him they run off and leave him." 
 
 Hawley was longer over his purchases than he 
 had intended to be; carpets, furniture, curtains, 
 held an interest that he had not expected to find 
 in them; and it was nearly four o'clock when he 
 returned. The Judge was in a ferment; he swore 
 that they were left. Hawley told him that he had 
 looked at a time-table and had found that the train 
 did not leave until half past seven. That made no 
 difference; they were left, for the old man had 
 seen half a dozen omnibusses, loaded with passen 
 gers, going toward the station. But perhaps if 
 they rushed they might still get there in time. 
 Hawley said that they would get dinner before 
 going to the station. The old man snorted. They 
 had no time for dinner; they could grab up some 
 thing and eat it on the train. 
 
 "My dear Judge," said Hawley, "I am even more 
 anxious to get back than you are. Don't worry; 
 leave it to me." 
 
 At last they were on the train; they had waited 
 at the station nearly an hour, but the Judge had
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 279 
 
 given up none of his anxiety until he got aboard; 
 he had what women call the fidgets. 
 
 "Now what are they waiting for?" he asked. 
 
 "Waiting for their time to start," Hawley an 
 swered. 
 
 He took the fidgets again; he -swore that as the 
 train had not succeeded in slipping off from them, 
 it was now determined to wear them out with 
 waiting. He asked a porter if the train intended 
 to leave that night. The porter paid no attention 
 to him, and the old man said: "If I had that 
 impudent rascal down my way I'd tan his black 
 hide. What, is it possible that we're going?" 
 He drew a sigh of relief; he affectionately placed 
 his hand on Hawley's arm. 
 
 They were delayed in Louisville and it was night 
 when the train reached Gallatin, but the negro 
 boy was there with the buggy, waiting for them. 
 As they were driving off the old man said: "Ah, 
 this is the air, my boy. The devil sneezes up yon 
 der in that smoke, but God breathes here."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 They were yet some distance from the house, 
 when from the dark shadow of the road side, out 
 upon the white turnpike a form came swiftly and 
 a voice cried: "Is that you gramper?" Ida had 
 come to meet them. She climbed into the buggy, 
 gleeful as a child, trying to tell her delight but 
 only laughing it; she insisted upon taking the 
 lines and she cried out, "Why, I can't drive Mr. 
 Robert unless you let my hands alone." She tried 
 to tell them many things and told them nothing 
 except that the buggy had been sent as an experi 
 ment, that they were not really expected, but that 
 she thought "gramper" might get tired and want 
 to come home. "Of course I knew that Mr. Robert 
 would stay away as long as he could," she said, 
 "and it is really a wonder that he came back so 
 soon. Oh, you did stay as long as you could? I 
 must thank you for saying that; but I can't drive 
 
 this way. You take the lines, gramper. He won't 
 
 280
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 281 
 
 let me alone. Oh, I know you pretend that you 
 will, but you won't. Here gramper." 
 
 Mrs. Trapnell stood at the gate. "Well, here 
 you are sure enough. I didn't expect you but Ida 
 insisted that we'd better send the buggy." 
 
 She cordially shook hands with Hawley and as 
 the old man was getting out of the buggy, she 
 asked: "Judge, did you bring that goods?" 
 
 He made no sort of intelligible reply; he 
 grunted, stamped his feet to take the stiffness out 
 of his legs, kissed his wife a dry-sounding smack 
 and turned toward the house. 
 
 "I asked if you'd brought the goods?" 
 
 "Madam," said he, halting and facing her, 
 "select any object that may so suit your fancy and 
 I will butt my head against it. I didn't bring the 
 goods, forgot all about the stuff, forgot everything, 
 forgot my name. They began to slaughter people 
 the minute we got there and I was on the dodge all 
 the time. That tree do? If you say so I'll butt 
 my head against it." 
 
 "Mrs. Trapnell," said Hawley, "I found the 
 sample on the floor where the Judge dropped it. 
 I had the order filled and the goods will be here 
 in a day or two."
 
 282 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Ah, but you are a sly rascal," the Judge de 
 clared, taking his arm. "And you wouldn't tell 
 me; wanted to see me get a blowing up. Mandy, 
 is supper ready? I gad, I haven't had anything to 
 eat since I left." 
 
 At supper the old man vowed that a foreign 
 cook would kill him within a week. Talk about 
 dyspepsia being an American ailment, why he had 
 never heard of it until late years. The Frenchmen 
 had introduced it with his out-landish sauces and 
 the German had helped it along with his slop. 
 And those wretched creatures, starving in the old 
 country, had turned up their noses at the American 
 corn, sent out by our people in their broad gener 
 osity. I gad, they ought to starve if they held their 
 appetites above corn; Andrew Jackson ate corn 
 bread, so did old Jim Polk. 
 
 Hawley and Ida sat on a bench under a tree in 
 the yard. There was love, quiet joy, in the soft 
 sighing of the night; and as through a diaphanous 
 mist, they gazed at the new life upon which they 
 soon were to enter. To love, the horizon is ever 
 near, and the eye seeks not to penetrate the blue 
 vastness that must lie beyond it. Calculation, to
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 283 
 
 estimate the chances that lie between failure and 
 success, happiness and misery, belongs to wisdom 
 but not to sentiment. 
 
 They were going to be happier than man and 
 wife had ever been. During all the ages of the 
 world, love had hung as green fruit, but now grown 
 ripe, it had fallen on the matted grass at their feet. 
 It was all so strange. What lover has not said 
 this? He had been strong in his belief that he 
 could never love, and this young thing said that 
 she had thought the same of herself. A dewdrop 
 gleamed, and he said that the stars had thrown 
 down one of their children; and she asked him 
 why he did not write poetry. He answered that 
 cold ink from a bottle could not express the 
 warmth of his soul, that alone could be done by 
 a hot gush of blood from his heart. But in his 
 arms he held the sweetest and purest of all 
 poems, and God had written it for him. More 
 foolish than children as thoughtless as an emotion 
 they sat, dreaming, talking in their sweet sleep. 
 He was happy to forget that he had ever been 
 practical; she was joyous to know that in love, she 
 was loved.
 
 284 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 The light in the sitting-room sank to dimness, 
 then went out. It was time for him to go, he 
 said. She went to the gate with him, made him 
 promise to come over early the next day, to tell 
 her about the carpets, the furniture, the curtains. 
 Across the fields he took his way. The glow 
 worms were in the grass; the music of the rippling 
 creek was in the air. It was nearly ten o'clock 
 when he reached home, but old Lily was still up, 
 sitting in front of her door, humming a weird tune 
 in the moon-light, the tune that has no maker, 
 the vague wandering of a musical instinct. She was 
 startled when he turned the corner of the house, 
 but recognizing him, she jumped up with an excla 
 mation of welcome. She declared, and before 
 the Lord, as she expressed it, that she never had 
 been so glad to see a person. It did "seem like" 
 he had been away a year. She had hardly expected 
 to see him again, going so far away off yonder, 
 and she had not felt safe while he was absent. 
 That trifling white man Roark had come through 
 the yard one day and abused her scandalously, he 
 had, and just for nothing in the world, too. That 
 wasn't any way to act while Mr. Hawley was away 
 from home.
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 285 
 
 "He didn't strike you, did he?" 
 
 "Oh, no, sah, he jest 'bused me; talked ter me 
 scan'lus. An' s'l gone wid you, man, caze I doan 
 know whut's got inter you, no how." 
 
 There was sonfiething in the air, in the moon 
 light to keep one awake, there was a quiet that 
 brings restlessness. Hawley sat in the "vine room" 
 at the ruined end of the house, smoking a pipe, 
 musing, thrilled with the memory of a kiss, and 
 yet angered to think of Roark's insolence. Sud 
 denly he ceased smoking and listened. Old Ben 
 had just come into the yard and was talking to 
 Lily "I tole 'im dat he better keep off dis place; 
 met him right out dar er minit er go an' tole 'im 
 so. Lowed dat it want none o' my look-out. 
 Santerin' right er long yander in de woods lot now. 
 Been talkin' shamefully 'bout Mr. Hawley." 
 
 Hawley put down his pipe. Should he overtake 
 the fellow and beat him? He had a strong impulse 
 to follow him, but he would let him go. 
 
 "Yas," he heard old Ben continue, "an' dat ain' 
 all; he been talkin' scan'lus er bout Miss Ida." 
 
 Hawley climbed down the crumbling wall, 
 bounded across the yard, leaped the fence, ran
 
 286 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 into the woods, and seeing some one walking slowly 
 along, cried out, "Wait there!" 
 
 John Roark turned about and stood facing him. 
 
 "Didn't I send you word not to put your foot on 
 this place again!" he asked when within a few 
 steps of the path in which Roark stood. 
 
 "Believe you did." 
 
 "Then what are you doing here?" He was now 
 within reach of him. 
 
 "Coming from town, and this is the shortest way 
 home. It saves time." 
 
 "But does it save any time for you to go to my 
 house while I'm not at home and abuse an old 
 woman?" 
 
 "Oh, well, if you want to take up an old negro 
 woman's quarrel, it's all right. Go ahead." 
 
 "But that isn't all. I heard that you have been 
 talking " he hesitated. "Talking not only about 
 me, for that makes no particular difference, but 
 about some one else." 
 
 "Mr. I've 'bout forgotten your name you 
 needn't come bullying around me even if I am on 
 your place. I don't know what you are trying to 
 get at but whatever I said goes."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 287 
 
 "Does it!" 
 
 Hawley struck him in the face, grabbed him be 
 fore he could fall, jammed him against a tree. 
 
 "Does it!" 
 
 He choked him until his eyes were popping out; 
 until his hands were limp. A knife fell to the 
 ground. 
 
 "Oh, I ought to kill you, you infernal scoundrel!" 
 
 Roark's head had fallen forward; he was gasp 
 ing. He muttered something * he was begging. 
 "Go, you wretch, and if I ever catch you here 
 again I'll kill you." 
 
 He turned him loose. Panting, making a noise 
 as if strangling, he leaned against the tree. 
 
 "Are you going!" 
 
 He stooped to pick up the knife. Hawley put 
 his foot on it. "Are you going! I say." 
 
 "Yes," he said in a hoarse whisper. He turned 
 away, stumbling, and Hawley watched him until 
 he was swallowed by the dark shadow of the trees. 
 
 Old Ben and his wife were still talking when 
 Hawley returned to the house. The woman was 
 saying that they ought not to tell the white folks, 
 to cause them trouble just at this time when they
 
 288 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 were getting ready for a wedding. Ben said that 
 he didn't know about that. Weddings were all 
 right enough, but a man had to keep people from 
 running over him, no matter if he was in love. 
 They knew nothing of the fight in the woods. 
 
 Hawley went to bed but could not sleep. He 
 dozed and heard the fellow choking, begging for 
 mercy; saw the moon-light fall upon his eyes, 
 popping out. Hour after hour passed. The air 
 was heavier; the moon was gone; rain began to 
 fall. Old Lily called him to breakfast. He got 
 up, tired as he was, and soon after breakfast, he 
 went to the Judge's house. Ida was startled when 
 she saw him. Was he ill? No, but he hadn't slept 
 any; he often had such fits of restlessness. Was 
 it anything that she had said? There was woman, 
 sweetheart. She wouldn't say anything to hurt his 
 feelings for the world. Something was on his 
 mind Wouldn't he please tell her? He fondly 
 kissed her. There was nothing on his mind; every 
 thing was on his heart, a sweetness and it was his 
 love for her. 
 
 The Judge had gone to town to prepare his cases 
 for court. He had an office but was rarely in it;
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 289 
 
 he was gradually giving up his practice. Hawley 
 and the girl strolled about the place, through the 
 orchard, in the woods. They went up the creek 
 to the shelving under which they had first made 
 known their love. He forgot Roark; forgot every 
 thing save this happy young creature and himself. 
 
 Upon returning to the house, they found the 
 Judge at home; and he wanted to speak privately 
 to Hawley. Then went out, walked along the 
 fence and stood near the horse-block. 
 
 "Have you heard that Roark is missing?" 
 
 Hawley started. "Missing?" 
 
 "Yes, they don't know where he is. He was in 
 town all day yesterday and started home late at 
 night in company with Lige Crump. They sepa 
 rated and the last seen of Roark he was going 
 through your field, toward the house." 
 
 Hawley was silent. "His sister was in town to 
 day," the Judge continued, "and was greatly dis 
 tressed; says that he never stayed out all night 
 without sending her word. Crump was in town too, 
 and had a talk with the sister. And I gad, sir, do 
 you know that they are trying to implicate you in 
 his disappearance?" 
 
 Tennessee Judge 19
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 Hawley put his hand on the fence. Could it be 
 possible that he had mortally hurt the man and 
 that he had fallen dead in the woods? 
 
 "I will tell you something," said Hawley. And 
 he told him of the fight. The old man listened 
 eagerly. "You did exactly what you ought to have 
 done," he said. "But there is something else back 
 of it. You didn't hurt him bad enough to kill him. 
 Still, just at this time it won't do for you to say 
 that you met him in the woods and choked him." 
 
 "But I ought to say something, Judge." 
 
 "Not yet, and I'll tell you why. The roughest 
 element in this whole section of country was at 
 that fellow's beck and call, and well, don't say a 
 word about it now. If they find the body, then 
 you may step forward and deliver your testimony; 
 bravely acknowledge what you have clone," 
 
 "Do you suppose that fellow Crump will swear 
 out a warrant against me?" 
 
 "He might have done so, but he \yon't do it now. 
 I told him to attend to his own affairs or I would 
 hurt him; and he knows that I meant it." 
 
 "I'll swear, I don't know what to do." 
 
 "You can do nothing but wait."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 291 
 
 "I'm afraid the county paper will say some 
 thing about it and then the Chicago papers will 
 take it up. I wish to God I had let him alone." 
 
 "By the Eternal, you couldn't let him alone, 
 sir; you had to stop his mouth." 
 
 "But I am afraid that I have stopped it forever." 
 
 "No, you haven't; there is something back of it, 
 
 I tell you." 
 
 
 
 "But shouldn't the marriage be postponed until 
 I am cleared of this suspicion? Wouldn't it be 
 an injustice to " 
 
 "My dear boy, stop right where you are. I 
 want you to understand that I am your friend, 
 regardless of any other tie that might exist be 
 tween us, and that I will stand by you. Keep 
 it from Ida; it would distress her. Say nothing 
 and wait."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Mrs. Trapnell knew that something had gone 
 wrong; her sharp eyes saw trouble in Hawley's 
 countenance; her sharp nose scented the air of 
 mystery that hung about the place. She besought 
 the Judge to tell her, at night when they were 
 alone, at morning when he was supposed to be 
 fresh- and confiding; but he knew nothing, said 
 that nothing had gone wrong. Was Mr. Hawley 
 sick? The Judge did not know that he was. Had 
 they found Roark? They had not. But why 
 should his disappearance have disturbed Mr. 
 Hawley? The Judge did not know that it had. 
 
 Ida was nervous, almost ill with anxiety. She 
 was afraid that Hawley had ceased to love her; 
 she reproached him, begged his pardon, cried. 
 She knew that she was too silly to share his con 
 fidence, but if he loved her, how could he refuse 
 to tell her everything. She would tell him every 
 thing, she had told him everything, all her thoughts. 
 
 292
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 She would not trouble him any more; she would 
 not cause him pain, and she saw that she did cause 
 him pain. Perhaps after a long while he might 
 learn to trust her. Hawley assured her that there 
 was no trouble, that he knew nothing to tell her. 
 He was not well, that was all. And thus three 
 days were passed. 
 
 In the town, at the toll gate, in the fields, 
 throughout the county the disappearance of Roark 
 was discussed. It was a deep, enjoyable mystery; 
 there had been nothing like it since the war. In 
 the woods a knife was found, taken to the court 
 house and placed on exhibition. Hawley's name 
 was on many tongues. Why did they not arrest 
 him? Was it because he was rich? Was it be 
 cause every body was afraid of the Judge? 
 
 The night was over-hung with clouds; a wind 
 was blowing. Several buggies and a carriage 
 were ranged along the road-side near the Judge's 
 house. Ever-y room was lighted. All within was 
 silent. Down the turnpike a noise arose, the 
 tramping of men, bearing torches. Louder the 
 noise grew. It was a mob. On they came, not 
 with the tread of soldiers, but with the scattered
 
 294 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 foot-steps of a riot. They halted at the yard fence. 
 "Climb over!" Lige Crump cried. He was at the 
 head. They climbed the fence, their torches 
 flaring in the wind. They were under the trees 
 in the yard. Just then the Judge stepped out. 
 He was surprised, startled, and he closed the door 
 behind him, and stood upon the stone steps, facing 
 the mob. 
 
 "What do you want here?" he asked, endeavor 
 ing to be calm. 
 
 "We want that man Hawley!" Crump answered. 
 
 "You can't see him now. This is his wedding 
 night. He has just married my granddaughter." 
 
 "He will have another bride before morning," 
 Crump replied The ruffians behind him laughed. 
 Among them were railroad laborers, negroes, 
 tramps. Crurnp continued: "The law won't take 
 up our cause for the reason that it's a coward. 
 We take it up ourselves. The body of John Roark 
 has been found, with his head crushed in. We 
 are going to hang his murderer. Get out of the 
 way! Come on men!" 
 
 "Stop, or by the Eternal I'll kill you." 
 
 The door opened. . Hawley stepped out. His
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 295 
 
 wife, screaming, strove to hold him back. He 
 tried gently to free himself, told her that there was 
 no danger, that he wanted simply to speak to 
 Crump. Crump stood at the edge of the brick 
 walk, near the steps. His hat was off and his 
 long hair was blown by the wind, in weird unison 
 with the flaring torches. 
 
 "There he is! We want you!" came from the 
 mob. 
 
 Hawley stood looking at Crump, his wife hang 
 ing on his arm, sobbing, begging him to corne 
 back into the house. The Judge was between 
 Hawley and Crump, turning first toward one and 
 then the other, helplessly, hopelessly thrusting his 
 hands into his pockets. 
 
 "We have found the man you murdered!" Crump 
 cried, his neck stretched, slowly moving forward 
 as if he were stealing upon something, gazing 
 at Hawley, . at the Judge, and then halting as 
 the Judge clapped his hand behind him. "We 
 have found the man you murdered found him at 
 the mouth of the branch with his head crushed. 
 Dr. Moffet says that he saw,you murder him, and 
 now we want you."
 
 296 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 A hoarse roar came from the mob. Women 
 fainted in the door-way and an aged preacher 
 cried: "Stand back there. I command peace in 
 the name of the law and the gospel of Jesus Christ !" 
 
 "Listen to me a moment!" Hawley demanded. 
 "Would you take the word of an imbecile? Dr. 
 Moffet has lost his mind and doesn't know what 
 he says. I will tell you the truth. Wait just a 
 moment. I will conceal nothing. I had, as you 
 know, Crump, sent Roark word not to come on 
 my place again, but during my absence he came 
 to my house and abused one of my servants, an 
 old woman. More than that, he talked about me 
 and and He placed his hand on his wife's 
 head. She seized it, still begging, still trying to 
 draw him back into the house. "I caught him 
 going through my woods, and I struck him in the 
 face and choked him but I did not kill him; I 
 stood and watched him as he Walked away. If his 
 head was crushed, some one else crushed it." 
 
 "You are a liar!" Crump shouted. 
 
 Hawley sprang off the steps. His wife, endeav 
 oring to hold him, slipped and fell. Willis leaped 
 from the door and caught her up as if she had
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 297 
 
 been a child. The Judge dodged about between 
 Hawley and Crump. "Don't shoot!" some one 
 yelled, "you might hit Lige." 
 
 "Get away Judge!" Hawley brushed the old man 
 aside. 
 
 "My God, they'll kill you!" the old man ex 
 claimed. "Stand back there you scoundrels." 
 
 Like a tiger Hawley jumped upon Crump, bore 
 him to the ground, choking him. The ruffians 
 under the trees leaped forward. "Stop!" cried 
 the Judge, "I'll shoot you." But he stood empty 
 handed, and they heeded him not. Suddenly, 
 from somewhere out in the darkness came the 
 loud cry: "I killed John Roark" A startle, and 
 a shudder were in the vibrant tones of that strange 
 voice; and every one was still. In a second Haw 
 ley had sprung to his feet; in a second Crump 
 stood panting, listening. " I killed John Roark," 
 the cry came again. 
 
 "Where are you," the Judge shouted. And then, 
 out of the darkness into the spectral light of the 
 torches, slowly strode the Professor of Moral Phi 
 losophy. His eyes, wide open, held no light; on 
 his face was the pallor of a corpse.
 
 298 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 "Put by your pistols, poor fools. Stand back 
 there and I will tell you something," he said, as he 
 came upon the brick walk. "Idiots, don't you 
 know me ? Now listen and you will learn some, 
 thing." 
 
 He mounted the steps as though he were going 
 to deliver a calm discourse. The women who had 
 thronged the doorway fled from him. The old 
 preacher stood just above him. Hawley had 
 caught his wife in his arms, and with tender words 
 was soothing her. 
 
 The Professor took off his hat, threw it on the 
 ground, raised his arms and said: "I killed John 
 Roark." The hard breathing of the ruffians caught 
 his attention, and he frowned at them. "Yes, I 
 killed him, my experiment was a failure, and I am 
 here to acknowledge it. You clods out there in 
 the shadow don't know what thought is. You are 
 in the shadow now; you have always been in the 
 shadow. I was searching for a new philosophy. 
 I swore that I would refute the belief, the theory 
 that murder will out, but gentlemen," he added, 
 bowing to the Judge, to Hawley and then to the 
 preacher who stood looking down upon him, "I
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 299 
 
 have failed, and I am here to acknowledge my 
 failure. This idea had held possession of me for 
 a long time, and had it proved a success, I would 
 have startled the world by proclaiming it in my 
 university. One evening while coming through 
 th,e woods, I found a tree that had been recently 
 blown down, tearing up the earth, leaving a deep 
 hole; and my new philosophy, with the light of a 
 fresh promise, flashed across my mind. Why 
 couldn't I kill a man and bury him in that hole? 
 Who would think of digging where a tree had been 
 blown down. No one. Here was my chance It 
 made no particular difference to me whom I killed, 
 with the exception of Mr. Hawley, for I depended 
 upon him and his money to help me establish my 
 university. Why should it have made any differ 
 ence whom I killed? Science has no victim, but a 
 subject. But bring a chair here for this lady. 
 You must be tired holding her, sir." 
 
 "For God's sake goon!" Hawley replied. 
 
 "Thank you, As I say, it made no difference 
 to me whom I killed, and I thought that who 
 ever he might be, he ought to feel proud to be used 
 in such a demonstration. I mused over it . until
 
 3OO A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 late. It must be done in the night, for science 
 has its tricks, its dark room. I went to Hawley's 
 house and looked about but saw no one. Then I 
 went down into the woods, not far from the place 
 where the tree had blown down. It had fallen 
 across the branch and was used as a foot log. So 
 much the better; people would pass within a few 
 feet of my secret. I waited a longtime, I started 
 again toward Hawley's house. I heard some one 
 coming along, cursing. I stepped beind a tree, 
 for as I say, science has its tricks. I waited. The 
 man came on; his foot-step was on the grass near 
 me. But he turned aside and was going to pass 
 too far away from me, and I quickly stepped from 
 one tree to another till I was within a few feet of 
 him. I called and he started to run, I thought, but 
 when I told him who I was he waited for me.- I 
 walked up to him. I held my stick in my hand. 
 He said that he hadn't any time for me, that he 
 was mad, that he was going home to get his gun. 
 I told him that he might not have time but that 
 he had eternity, and with that I tiptoed and hit 
 him on the top of the head with my stick. He 
 fell and groaned and I hit him again. Then he
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 30! 
 
 was quiet. I felt for his pulse; he had none. Then 
 I tried to take him up and carry him to the place 
 where the tree had blown down, but he was so 
 heavy that I couldn't carry him; so I dragged him. 
 Oh, what a load he was and what a relief I felt 
 when I got him there. Now the most interesting 
 part of the work was to be done. I must dig down 
 in that place and get enough dirt to cover him. I 
 had forgot to provide myself with a hoe. In its 
 eagerness a new philosophy is negligent of many 
 things. I got a flat, sharp stone and scooped out 
 the clay, and at last, the hole was big enough. So 
 there I put him down, and covered him, but I did 
 not pat the dirt about him. That would have 
 been too orderly and would have aroused suspicion. 
 I made it rough, just as it had been left by the 
 tearing roots of the tree. Then I went home, 
 thrilled at my victory. Rain fell to wash the blood 
 off the grass if I had spilled any there; and murder 
 would not out. Soon I began to hear of the 
 mysterious disappearance of a man, and in the 
 night I lay in bed, aniinalizing, hoging over my 
 secret. They couldn't find him. Of course they 
 couldn't; and how I laughed to myself when I
 
 302 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 saw people crossing the foot-log. But I was 
 thoughtless and impractical in my happiness. One 
 evening just about dusk I crossed the foot-log. 
 It was yesterday evening and there had been a 
 rain, and the branch was high. What! As I stepped 
 upon the log I saw that the water had run round 
 and was washing through the hole where my new 
 philosophy was hidden. What was that, gleaming 
 on the dark water? It was Roark's hand, and 
 moved by the current, was dipping, dipping, dip 
 ping. This alarmed me. Was my secret about 
 to be washed out? Should I take the body some 
 where else and bury it? No, that would be an 
 acknowledgment of failure. I would leave it 
 alone; it might wash away, into the creek, into 
 the river and forever be buried under a sand-bar. 
 But the water fell too fast and left it lying on the 
 gravel near the mouth of the branch, I was not 
 far away when it was found. But I could do 
 nothing, except to resolve upon an acknowledg 
 ment of my defeat, and this you must all agree I 
 have done to the best of my capabilities. I saw 
 the mob coming; I knew what was up, I had 
 heard mutterings, and I said to myself that it
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 303 
 
 would not be right to have my short-comings, my 
 failure attributed to another man, and so I threw 
 away the stick that I had carried so long, that 
 had been the implement of a failure, and followed 
 the mob. Mr. Crump, the subject of experimental 
 science was your friend, and you think that you 
 have sustained a loss, but what is your loss in 
 comparison with mine? You will forget him within 
 a month; my humiliation remains with me. I 
 believe you said something about hanging Mr. 
 Hawley." 
 
 "Yes, and I'm sorry for it," Crump answered, 
 bowed over. 
 
 "Ah, but why not hang me? I'm of no use now; 
 I'm ready to go." 
 
 He stood looking from one to another. The 
 torches were burnt out; the ruffians under the 
 trees were in the dark. 
 
 "We don't want to hang a crazy man;" said 
 Crump, "but we'll take )'ou to town and see what 
 the sheriff will do with you." 
 
 "All right, and I will tell him that I wish he had 
 been the subject of my failure. Ladies, gentle 
 men, all, I wish you good-night."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Crump and his mob were gone down the turn 
 pike, not as they had come, with fire-brands, with 
 increasing haste as they drew near, but sullenly 
 and in darkness they trod along, the Professor in 
 the midst of them. Their burnt-out torches lay 
 under the trees, and one of them still held a red 
 speck, the dying eye of anger slowly giving up its 
 evil light. 
 
 In the house there was a strong smell of camphor. 
 Chairs lay overturned, all was confusion. Hyster 
 ical women strove to quiet one another; every 
 body talked at once and nobody appeared to hear 
 what anybody said. Among the women Mrs. 
 Trapnell was the first to compel attention. She 
 knew that the rioters would come back; they 
 would get drunk in town, return and commit all 
 sorts of depredations. Oh, how disgraceful it 
 was, and at such a time, too; a time when every 
 body should be orderly. But it hadn't surprised 
 
 304
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 305 
 
 her. She knew that something was going to 
 happen; she had told the Judge as much and man 
 like, he had hooted at the idea. 
 
 Ida lay upon a sofa and Hawley sat beside her, 
 holding her hands, assuring her that all danger 
 was past, that the mob would not come back. 
 Why had he not told her that he was suspected 
 of having killed Roark? She had begged him with 
 tears in her eyes to tell her of his trouble and he 
 had refused, had declared that nothing was wrong. 
 If he had told her she shoujd have been prepared. 
 But as it was, she had been shocked by its sud 
 denness, frightened almost to death. She had 
 not thought of herself, but of him. She would 
 give her life for him. And when she said this 
 there came from a woman who had a marriageable 
 daughter with her, the sentimental response, "Yes, 
 indeed, a thousand times." 
 
 At the hall door stood an old negro from the 
 Hermitage. He had fiddled in high places, at 
 receptions held by governors, at diplomatic festi 
 vals, in the White House when Jackson was presi 
 dent. He was so old now that he could scarcely 
 get about, was bald and palsied, but he had heard 
 
 Tennessee Judge 20
 
 306 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 that the Judge's granddaughter was to be married, 
 and had thought that it was his duty to be present. 
 Some one said that old Jordan was at the door. 
 
 "Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Judge, "bring 
 him in. Come here old man. Ladies and gentle 
 men, Andrew Jackson's fiddler is among us. Shake 
 hands with Mr. Hawley, Jordan. Bless your life, 
 it does me good to see you. I would have sent 
 for you but I thought you were in bed with old 
 age. Here, take this chair; it's the easiest one 
 in the house. Bless my soul, it has been a long 
 time since I crossed the river at the Hermitage; 
 too many sad memories float along there. Is the 
 old place kept up? How is the tomb of your 
 immortal master." 
 
 The Judge was likely to ply the old man with 
 so many questions, to wander off so far in the 
 mazes of reminiscence, that his wife reminded 
 him that the young people wanted music. "Ah, 
 and they shall have it," he replied. "And it will 
 be music, too, let me tell you; none of your 
 screarchings that pass for tune. Bring back the 
 souls of long ago, Jordan; give us your master's 
 favorites."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 307 
 
 The old man took his fiddle out of a dingy bag, 
 tune it with many a twang, leaned his head forward, 
 closed his eyes, played "Chicken in the Bread 
 Tray," "Billy in the Low Ground," "Money 
 Musk," and Sandy Faulkner's "Arkansas Traveler." 
 Fears were gone, nerves were soothed. The old 
 Judge sat bowed over, his hands in his lap, "the 
 tears running down his face. "Play on," he said, 
 "don't stop." The young people had begun to talk, 
 and in sorrowful reproach he looked at them, 
 slowly from one to another, but his face brightened 
 as though he had suddenly given up a selfish 
 thought, and he said: ""That will do, Jordan. 
 Mandy, see that the old man has something to 
 eat, and here," he added in a low tone, "give him 
 twenty dollars, the gold piece in my trunk up 
 stairs. Jordan, when you get ready to go home 
 I'll send you in the carriage," 
 
 Now they could calmly talk about the riot. 
 The sentimental women with the marriageable 
 daughter said that it put her so much in mind of 
 the stories her father told of war-times. Of course 
 she didn't remember the war. The Judge looked 
 at his wife. He thought that she could not let
 
 3O8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 this chance go by and he was right. "Why," 
 said Mrs. Trapnell, "you and I are about the same 
 age and I remember the war distinctly." 
 
 "Mr. Hawley," Willis remarked, "I must com 
 pliment you, sir. You are a brave man." 
 
 "No," Hawley replied, "I am simply a fool when 
 I'm angry." 
 
 "He has the spirit of his town," said the Judge. 
 "He's afraid of nothing. But I thought that his 
 time had come to-night. Bob, it's a thousand 
 wonders that Crump hadn't shot you." 
 
 "I caught the hammer of his pistol on my 
 thumb and that's what saved me," Hawley replied. 
 
 "Yes," said the Judge, "and there I hopped 
 about like an old monkey, trying to snatch the 
 thing, and it's well that I didn't, I tell you. When 
 I stepped out I had no notion that there was any 
 trouble in prospect; I thought a lot of mules had 
 got into the yard, but the idea of a mob bent upon 
 mischief struck me the moment I recognized 
 Crump. And I knew that it was not wise to turn 
 back to get my pistols, that the scoundrels would 
 rush after me, so I shut the door and stood there 
 to argue with them, to pursuade them to go away 
 quietly."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 309 
 
 "I have known all along that the old Professor 
 was mad," Hawley declared, "and I spoke to 
 several persons about it, you among the number, 
 Judge, but was assured that he was harmless. 
 Ida," he added, "if a noisy beginning makes a 
 quiet ending, we shall have an even-tempered after 
 life; engaged in a storm and married at a riot, a 
 clattering record thus far." 
 
 The Judge laughed. "Circumstances have wanted 
 you to feel at home, sir, and have introduced a 
 few of the features of Chicago. By the way, 
 Willis, you'd better go to-morrow and have the 
 old Doctor sent to an asylum, along with the Pro 
 fessor. His talk has been nearly as dangerous as 
 the mad man's club." 
 
 "Judge," Willis replied with his arms full of 
 gestures and with a low bow of obedience, "your 
 commission shall be executed. I have thought for 
 a long time that he ought to be removed from the 
 free haunts of man, indeed, he has given me proof 
 that he ought to be locked up. He has hinted 
 
 "Hinted!" exclaimed the Judge, "didn't he say 
 that Hawley killed Roark?" 
 
 "Wait a moment, Judge; wait just a moment.
 
 3IO A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 I am aware, or at least I have cause to believe 
 that he spread such a report, but I have a previous 
 acquaintance with his insanity; for as I was about 
 to say just now, he hinted that decomposed animal 
 matter was no more necessary to the development 
 and sustenance of cellery than old Ben's mind was 
 essential to anthropological research. Those may 
 not be his exact words," he added, not willing 
 that the Doctor should rob him of the credit of 
 this verbal arrangement, "but I have set forth his 
 idea." 
 
 "The words are exact enough, Charles," the 
 Judge replied. 
 
 "I thank you for the compliment, sir," Willis 
 rejoined; "I am proud to know that you accord to 
 me not only the assimilation of an idea, but an 
 improved reproduction of it. And I am grateful 
 to Mr. Havvley for assuring me that I shall have 
 a fair compensation for my services. I hope you 
 catch my meaning, Mr. Havvley. You know that 
 I endeavor to be clear, logical and euphonious, 
 forcible, pure, elegant and expressive, terse, 
 pointed and convincing." 
 
 "Willis," said Hawley, "your memory is won 
 derfully exact."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 311 
 
 "Ah, I grant you, but not so exact as my grati 
 tude. Why, our cousin, the bride, is happy again. 
 Miss ah, pardon me, haven't yet accustomed my 
 self to the new handle, your return of spirits 
 and flush of rare health, make us almost glad that 
 you have gone through a fright. Now everybody 
 seems happy, and I, who rejoice under the unim 
 portant but yet not unmalifluent appellation of 
 Charles Willis, am joyous with the rest ; but Cousin 
 Mandy, it strikes me that it's about time to have 
 something to eat." 
 
 "You mean something to drink," said the Judge. 
 
 "Distinguished juror, able expounder of the 
 criminal code, don't mention drink to me. I 
 loathe the accursed stuff as the flitting wren loathes 
 the black snake." 
 
 "Eh, and like the wren you are not able to keep 
 out of the way." 
 
 "Compelled to grant you that point, Judge. 
 Mr. Hawley he is talking to his bride and the 
 young ladies who find in her a subject of great 
 curiosity. I was going to say that it is a hard 
 matter for the wren to keep out of the jaws of 
 the snake The wren can stay in the- air only a
 
 312 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 certain length of time, and when he is compelled 
 to come down, it seems that the snake is there 
 waiting for him. I am not feeling well to-night , 
 Judge," he added, sinking his voice. "I have been 
 upset for a day or two, and I can't help but think 
 that a little of that old blackberry-brandy would 
 help me; just a swallow, you know. Bless, you, 
 I wouldn't take more than a swallow for this 
 strong right arm." 
 
 "You might as well take it, Charles. What I 
 mean is that if you don't take it here you'll go 
 elsewhere and get it." 
 
 "Judge, do you insinuate " 
 
 "Oh, no, not at all, Charles. I don't insinuate, 
 I simply know that you are going to get drunk and 
 that you might as well be about it." 
 
 Willis moved his chair closer to the Judge, 
 leaned over and in low tones of sorrow, said: 
 "Insulted at a wedding. I didn't expect it of you, 
 Judge." 
 
 "Do you want the blackberry-brandy or would 
 you rather have corn whisky?" 
 
 "Never would have suspected it of you, Judge. 
 Sharper than a serpent's tooth is an insult at a
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 313 
 
 wedding; yea, and from a man revered of yore. 
 Anger were foolish; resentment were unwise. I 
 know not what to say." 
 
 "That is, you don't know whether to say you'll 
 take the whisky or the brandy. Charles, I thought 
 you were a man of quicker decision." 
 
 "Ah, and you would add another sting; you 
 would accuse me of weakness and vacillation. 
 Judge, I am a man of decision. I'll take the 
 whisky." 
 
 The hour grew late, the guests were departing. 
 "Good-bye;" "Wish you so much happiness;" 
 "So calm after the storm;" "See the moon-light 
 beautiful omen" words of hope, of affection, 
 came tremblingly from the lips of women; and the 
 bride answered with smiles and tears, so becoming 
 to her. The hearty "Take care of yourself;" 
 "Well, so long, old fellow," came from the men, 
 and the bridegroom nodded and laughed, so be 
 coming to him, 
 
 The guests were gone. But a single light 
 burned in the house, in an upper room. Young 
 birds, feeling the approach of day, twittered under 
 the eaves a lesser light came down the stairway 
 and then all above was dark.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Plans for the renovation of the old house had 
 been drawn, and it was Hawley's aim to travel 
 during the time required to execute them. At 
 this prospect the young wife was delighted, but 
 she did not desire to be away an hour longer than 
 it would take to complete the repairs; she liked 
 to travel, she wanted to see everything that was 
 to be seen, but she was so anxious to begin life 
 in her own home. Traveling could be deferred ; 
 it was a luxury; but to learn house keeping was 
 a duty, a sacred obligation. 
 
 They went to Chicago, to New York, to Boston; 
 they rested in New England villages, at sea-side 
 places and at an old country house where Hawley's 
 mother was born. Ida gathered flowers in the 
 garden there, and pressed them between Tenny 
 son's love-lighted pages. She made friends every 
 where; she gave money to an old woman who sat 
 
 in front of a door, knitting; to an old man worn 
 
 314
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 315 
 
 and shrunken by the rough winds of the sea; to 
 preachers that aspired to build new churches; to 
 children in the street. Her soft accent was music 
 in this harsh land, and women asked her to repeat 
 certain words; her laugh was a strange melody 
 and they told her droll stories. "Oh, you must 
 come and see us," she would say. And when an 
 old woman who had never been fifty miles from 
 home spoke of the distance, she answered with a 
 laugh: "Oh, it isn't half so far from here there, 
 as- it is from there here." 
 
 They were gone three months, and when they 
 set their faces toward home, Hawley saw a new 
 joy in her eyes They were on a night express 
 train; she could not sleep; she was listening for 
 the name of some familiar station. It would be 
 daylight when the train reached Gallatin. She 
 heard the name "South Tunnel" and she cried, 
 "Oh, Robert, just think, we are only seven miles 
 from home after having been so far away." 
 
 They had telegraphed and the Judge and his wife 
 had come in the carriage to meet them. The old 
 man swore by the Eternal that he had never been 
 so lonesome at any time during all the days of his
 
 316 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 existence, and whenever his wife attempted to say 
 something he would shut her off with, "Now, 
 Mandy, we'll tell them all about that after a while." 
 
 The sun was just rising when they drove up to 
 the gate at the Judge's home, and before going 
 into the house, Ida ran about the yard, gladdened 
 at the sight of every familiar object. She awoke 
 the old dog and shook his paw; she stirred up the 
 young dog, and he galloped about with her. 
 Hawley ran after her and brought her back took 
 her up and carried her into the dining-room, called 
 for a "high-chair," a "bib;" and told the Judge to 
 cut up her meat while he buttered her bread. 
 
 "So everything is going on all right is it, Judge?" 
 Hawley asked. 
 
 "First-rate, but the workmen are not quite done 
 yet." 
 
 "Has Willis kept pretty straight?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. He had about a three day's whirl 
 after you left, but I went over to see him and I 
 told him that if he didn't stop at once he must get 
 right off the place. He looked at me reproach 
 fully and said that if he couldn't take a drink or 
 two without being insulted he guessed he'd shut 
 off, and he did."
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 317 
 
 "He had the old Doctor taken to an asylum, I 
 suppose." 
 
 "Yes, took him the day you left. The old 
 fellow begged piteously; swore that if we would 
 only let him stay he'd never more tell his dreams, 
 would never speak a word to get people into 
 trouble. His greatest fear was that old Ben would 
 triumph over him and rejoice over the downfall 
 of his medical ethics; but Ben, the old rascal, and 
 I can't help liking him, came up just as they were 
 taking the Doctor away and told him that he was 
 greatly grieved to part company with him, declared 
 that he had learned much from him and acknowl 
 edged that Moffet's school of medicine was superior 
 to his own. At this the Doctor shed tears of 
 gratitude, wept on Ben's shoulder, and they had 
 to take him away." 
 
 "Poor old fellow," said Hawley, "I'm sorry for 
 him but he had to go;" and after a short silence 
 he asked: "How long do you think it will take 
 them to finish the house?" 
 
 "About a week, I should think. The carpets 
 are not down yet, but that won't take long with 
 Mandy and Ida to superintend the work. Take
 
 3l8 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 things easy, sir; everything will be all right after 
 a while." 
 
 "Oh, we are not in any hurry." 
 
 "No," said the Judge, "for you must know that 
 you are at home already." 
 
 How much faster the work progressed after 
 Hawley returned. Difficulties were not slowly 
 met but were seized and lifted out of the way. 
 The ruined room was fitted up for a summer study, 
 and though made securer, it was but little changed 
 in outside appearance; the vine was not disturbed. 
 At last the work was about completed; the carpets 
 were down, the hangings were up, the pictures 
 were hung. One evening at supper the Judge 
 said: "Bob, go to town with me to-morrow. I 
 am to dispose of my last law case, by compromise, 
 too, and then I shall close my office forever. I 
 am nearly eighty- three years old." 
 
 They were ready soon after breakfast but they 
 did not go until after dinner. The old man had 
 sat about the house, walked about the yard, put 
 ting off his final retirement from the affairs, the 
 wrangles of men. The case was soon settled, and 
 then they sat in the court-house, talking. The day
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 319 
 
 was hot and the doors were open. A dog, panting 
 but too lazy to move, lay stretched out where a 
 sun-beam fell. From across the square came the 
 song of a mocking bird, caged years ago. There 
 were but few men in the clerk's office a young 
 fellow who had come to take out a marriage license, 
 an old man to look up a deed, and a lean skin-flint 
 with a whip under his arm, come to ask the clerk's 
 opinion and thereby to save a lawyer's fee. The 
 Judge was talking about a famous murder trial, 
 years ago, of Felix Grundy whose words were like 
 a shower of sparks at night. An old man stepped 
 across the threshold of the main door, stumbled 
 over the dog, turned to look at him, and then 
 facing about, slowly advanced toward the center 
 of the room. Suddenly the Judge sprang to his 
 feet with a cry that rang throughout the house 
 "By the just and Eternal God!" The clerk bounded 
 toward him. "Back, damn you, let no man touch 
 me or I'll kill him!" He stood with two pistols 
 in his hands, shaking them. An old man, shrunken, 
 trembling with palsy, stood looking at him. "Gor 
 don P. Hensley, God has appointed your time to 
 die Back there!" he shouted at the clerk. "Make
 
 32O A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 another motion toward me and I'll kill you." 
 The old man stood looking at him, uttering not 
 a word, his head shaking. "Gordon P. Hensley, 
 the hope that I might one day shoot you down has 
 kept me alive God's tonic. But I will give you 
 a chance for your life. A thousand times in my 
 sleep, have I shed your blood but I won't butcher 
 you. Here!" He stepped forward, clapped both 
 pistols on a table, stepped back and said: "Take 
 one of them. Oh, your time or mine has come. 
 Take one, I tell you. Are you waiting for me. 
 Oh, you haven't forgotten your politeness, but 
 how about your treachery!" 
 
 The Judge stepped forward, caught up a pistol 
 and stepped back. "Take that pistol or I'll blow 
 your brains out! I have carried them forty years 
 for you. Are you going to take it?" He raised 
 his own weapon, cast a threatening look at the 
 men standing stupefied about him and then bent- 
 his gaze on the old man. 
 
 "Wait one moment," said Hensley, "and then I 
 will. There are just a few words that I want to 
 say. I have dodged you nearly half my life I 
 know that I had been treacherous to you, that I
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 321 
 
 had put you on a block and sold you. But what 
 had you done to me? You had not robbed me of 
 an ambition, but of the woman I loved." 
 
 "What, so near the grave and still a liar! I 
 did not rob you. She did not love you. Take 
 that pistol, I tell you. Gentlemen, stand back. 
 Hawley, I entreat you not to come near me." 
 
 "One moment, Judge," Hensley implored with 
 hands up-lifted. "I haven't said what I wanted 
 to say. Be patient just a moment and then your 
 vengeance shall be satisfied. For years I have 
 been living over in Williamson county, with my 
 daughter. Four week ago she came over here 
 to visit some relatives, and she brought with her 
 the child that carried my withered heart in his 
 hand. He was the only human being that was 
 innocent enough to love me. My daughter wrote 
 to me that he was sick; she couldn't bring him 
 back; she hadn't the money and I couldn't send 
 it to her. I came on here as best I could, begging 
 my way. Last night the little fellow died and 
 I am here now to get a coffin for him, and I am in 
 this house to beg for money, and not for my life. 
 
 Tennessee Judge 21
 
 322 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 Now, sir, you may take up the other pistol. I 
 don't want it." 
 
 The Judge had reached out and caught hold of 
 the back of a chair. A silence seemed to come 
 down from the deserted corridors above, to op 
 press itself upon the scene; and naught save the 
 breathing of the old men could be heard. The 
 Judge took his hand off the chair, reached forward, 
 took hold of a corner of the table and placed the 
 other pistol upon the green cloth. He straightened 
 up, fumbled in his pocket, took out the money 
 that he had received for his last case, and placed 
 it beside the pistol. He said nothing; he turned 
 and stretched out his hand toward Hawley, and 
 when Hawley leaped over a bench, bounded to 
 him, put his arm about him, he whispered: "Let 
 us go home " 
 
 He stumbled slightly as Hawley led him toward 
 the door; and then a loud sob broke from the 
 wretched man whom they had left standing there. 
 "You don't mean to give me this, do you!" he cried. 
 The Judge looked back, said nothing, made a 
 motion with his open hand. He dropped his hand 
 kerchief as Hawley was helping him into the buggy,
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 323 
 
 and when it was handed him, he said: "I thank 
 you for your courtesy." Slowly and silently they 
 drove down the street, across the bridge, out the 
 turnpike. 
 
 "Is that a man or a woman going along there?" 
 the Judge asked. 
 
 "A man," Hawley answered. 
 
 "I couldn't tell. My old eyes are failing me, 
 sir." 
 
 Ida was at the gate when they drove up. 
 "Gramper, are you sick?" she asked. He smiled 
 at her but answered not. Hawley drew her back 
 and told her. Mrs. Trapnell came to the door. 
 Something had gone wrong with her and she was 
 in a fault-finding humor. "Madam, "said Hawley, 
 whispering to her, "don't say anything to worry 
 him. He has met Gordon P. Hensley." She 
 caught her breath and looked hard at Hawley. 
 "No, he didn't kill him S-h-e-e, he might hear 
 you." 
 
 She ran to the old man and kissed him, told him 
 how glad she was that he had closed out his law 
 business. Now he would not be a slave when 
 court met; now they would drive about together 
 and be happy.
 
 324 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 
 
 They sat down to supper. The old man said 
 not a word, he ate nothing, he gazed through the 
 window at the sun behind the trees on the brow 
 of the hill. After supper he walked out into the 
 orchard, down among the older trees. And when 
 he had been gone a short time, Hawley and Ida 
 followed him. They saw him sitting under a tree, 
 his face turned toward the red glow in the woods, 
 his hat, the old white hat, beside him. Ida's skirts 
 caught on a briar. 
 
 "Now don't you run away from me, Robert. 
 Come back here you rascal and be jealous. Don't 
 you see I've caught a beau?" 
 
 She picked her skirts clear of the briar and look 
 ing up, saw Hawley hastening toward her, back 
 from the tree where the old man sat. 
 
 "Why, what's the matter, Robert?" 
 
 "Don't go down there, precious," he said put 
 ting his arms about her; "my little girl you must 
 not go down there." 
 
 Down in the orchard where the trees are old, 
 a monument gleams through the low-hanging 
 boughs; and a stone-cutter, following the lines
 
 A TENNESSEE JUDGE 325 
 
 given him by Bob Hawley, has dug these words in 
 the rock: "He swore by the Eternal; he said 
 that justice,, that nature knew not how to forgive, 
 and yet in one moment of pity he tore from his 
 breast a hatred that had burned therein for more 
 than forty years." 
 
 THE END.
 
 The Library of Choice Fiction. 
 
 No other similar Series contains such a proportion of M-a*terpiece8 
 
 iy Fatuous Writers from America, England, France, Ge^i*tvy t 
 
 ~tc. It contains EVERY ONE of the Thrilling Stories of 
 
 Travel and Adventure by this popular Writer. 
 
 WILLIAM M. THOMES. 
 
 1 GOLD HUNTER'S ADVENTURES IN AUSTRALIA.. 
 
 An exciting story of the time when the thirst for gold i >ged 
 fiercely at the Antipodes. 564 pages ; 40 full-page illustrations. 
 
 A WHALEMAN'S ADVENTURES ON SEA AND LAND. 
 
 A vivid story_ of life on a whaler on the Pacific Ocean. 444 pages 
 and 36 full-page illustrations. 
 
 THE BUSHRANGERS ; A Yankee's Adventures during a Sec 
 ond Trip to Australia. 
 
 Replete with exciting exploits among the most lawless class of 
 men. 480 pages; 16 full -page illustrations. 
 
 A SLAVER'S ADVENTURES ON SEA ANI> LAND. 
 
 A thrilling recital of an adventurous life on tie deck of a slaver. 
 405 pages and 41 full-page illustrations. 
 
 RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 
 
 A splendid narrative of the life of a Union officer on secret duty on 
 board a Rebel blockade runner. 474 pages; eight full-page illustra 
 tions 
 
 THE GOLD HUNTERS IN EUROPE ; or, The Dead Alive. 
 
 A constant succession of perilous adventures are herein related. 
 384 pages ; 34 full-page illustrations. 
 
 THE BELLE OF AUSTRALIA; or, Who Am I ? 
 
 Love and adventure are splendidly treated in this well conceived 
 story. 325 pages; fully illustrated. 
 
 ON LAND AND SEA; or, California in the Years 1843, '44 
 and '45. 
 
 A graphic description of country, people and events in a most ur 
 teresting period. 351 pages Never issued yet in paper covers. 
 
 LEWEY AND I; or, A Sailor Boy's Wanderings. 
 
 A sequel to "Land and Sea," and the latest work of this famous 
 author. Never issued yet in paper covers. 4O7 pages. 
 
 ReadeA of good literature are advised to procure Laird & Lee's 
 Publications, as they are printed in large type on excell* nt paper, pro 
 fusely illustrated, and bound in solid and attractive covert;. 
 
 SOLO BY ALL NEWSDEALERS AND UPON ALL TRAINS, OR SUPPUFO 
 BY THE PUBLISHERS. 
 
 LAIRD & LEE, CHICAGO
 
 
 THE LINY OF 
 
 "NOTHING SUCCEEDS LIKE SUCCESS!" 
 
 When it is based upon excellence of make-up, as well as upon the 
 
 GENUINE MERIT OF THE BOOKS. 
 
 The growing and generous patronage 
 of the Public 
 
 LAIRD & LEE'S SERIES 
 
 To continue doing so, they have secured, 
 
 IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE NEW COPYRIGHT LAW 
 
 A Number of MSS. by Famous Foreign Authors. 
 
 Among those they issue first, fully illustrated by Parisian 
 artists, the following exceptionally brilliant novels, translated by 
 IV1AX IX/1AURY: 
 
 AURETTE'S HUSBAND. By HENRY GREVILLE. 
 
 A YOUNG MAN OF THE PERIOD. By ANDRE THEURIET. 
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A MORAL. By HECTOR MALOT. 
 
 In addition to these we are issuing in superb style 
 MASTERPIECES OF FOREIGN FICTION 
 
 printed in the original language in which they were written. 
 
 IN FRENCH:" Contes Choisis" [Select Tales], by that Prince 
 of story-tellers, GUY DE MAUPASSANT. 
 
 IN GERMAN: ,,Das (Sebcimntfi ber altcn lUamfeU" [The Old 
 Maid's Secret 1 , the immortal novel by E. MARLITT. 
 
 Readers of good literature are advised to procure LAIRD <fc LEE'S Publi 
 cations, as they are printed in large type on excellent paper, profusely illus 
 trated, and bound in solid and attractive covers. 
 
 Sold by all newsdealers and upon all trains, or supplied 
 by the publishers, 
 
 LAIRD & LEE, CHICAGO. 
 
 Adv. C.
 
 The Library of Choice Fiction. 
 
 No other similar Series contains such a proportion of M^a 
 
 >y Fatuous Writers from America, England, France, GWtt.ny t 
 ~tc. It contains EVERY ONE of the Thrilling Stories of 
 Travel and Adventure by this popular Writer. 
 
 WILLIAM M. THOMES. 
 
 <* GOLD HUNTER'S ADVENTURES IN AUSTRALIA 
 
 An exciting story of the time when the thirst for gold i >ge<i 
 fiercely at the Antipodes. 564 pages ; 40 full-page illustrations. 
 
 A WHALEMAN'S ADVENTURES ON SEA AND LAND. 
 
 A vivid story_ of life on a whaler on the Pacific Ocean. 444 pages 
 and 36 full-page illustrations. 
 
 THE BUSHRANGERS ; A Yankee's Adventures during a Sec 
 ond Trip to Australia. 
 
 Replete with exciting exploits among the most lawless class of 
 men. 480 pages; 16 full -page illustrations. 
 
 A SLAVER'S ADVENTURES ON SEA ANB LAND. 
 
 A thrilling recital of an adventurous life on t&e deck of a slaver. 
 405 pages and 41 full-page illustrations. 
 
 RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 
 
 A splendid narrative of the life of a Union officer on secret duty on 
 board a Rebel blockade runner. 474 pages ; eight full-page illustra 
 tions 
 
 THE GOLD HUNTERS IN EUROPE ; or, The Dead Alive. 
 
 A constant succession of perilous adventures are herein related. 
 384 pages ; 34 full-page illustrations. 
 
 THE BELLE OF AUSTRALIA; or, Who Am I ? 
 
 Love and adventure are splendidly treated in this well conceived 
 story. 325 pages ; fully illustrated. 
 
 ON LAND AND SEA; or, California in the Years 1843, '44 
 and '45. 
 
 A graphic description of country, people and events in a most in* 
 teresting period. 351 pages Never issued yet in paper covers. 
 
 LEWEY AND I ; or, A Sailor Boy's Wanderings. 
 
 A sequel to " Land and Sea," and the latest work of this famous 
 author. Never issued yet in paper covers. 407 pages. 
 
 ReadeA of good literature are advised to procure Laird & Lee's 
 Publications, as they are printed in large type on excellent paper, pro 
 fusely illustrated, and bound in solid and attractive coveru. 
 
 SOLD BY ALL NEWSDEALERS AND UPON ALL TRAINS, OR SUPPLIF1 
 BY THE PUBLISHERS. 
 
 LAIRD <& LEE, CHICAGO
 
 *& 
 
 LINY OF 
 
 "NOTHING SUCCEEDS LIKE SUCCESS!" 
 
 When it is based upon excellence of make-up, as well as upon the 
 
 GENUINE MERIT OF THE BOOKS. 
 
 The growing and generous patronage 
 of the Public 
 
 LAIRD & LEE'S SERIES 
 
 To continue doing so, they have secured, 
 
 IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE NEW COPYRIGHT LAW 
 
 A Number of MSS. by Famous Foreign Authors. 
 
 Among those they issue first, fully illustrated by Parisian 
 artists, the following exceptionally brilliant novels, translated by 
 MAX IN/IAURY: 
 
 AURETTE'S HUSBAND. By HENRY GREVILLE. 
 
 A YOUNG MAN OF THE PERIOD. By ANDRE THEURIET. 
 
 A STORY WITHOUT A MORAL. By HECTOR MALOT. 
 
 In addition to these we are issuing in superb style 
 
 MASTERPIECES OF FOREIGN FICTION 
 
 printed in the original language in which they were written. 
 
 IN FRENCH: " Contes Choisis" [Select Tales], by that Prince 
 of story-tellers, GUY DE MAUPASSANT. 
 
 IN GERMAN: ,,Z)as (Sebetmmft ber alten lUamfcU" [The Old 
 Maid's Secret 1 , the immortal novel by E. MARLITT. 
 
 Eeadersof good literature are advised to procure LAIRD & LEE'S Publi 
 cations, as they are printed in large type on excellent paper, profusely illus 
 trated, and bound in solid and attractive covers. 
 
 Sold by all newsdealers and upon all trains, or supplied 
 by the publishers. 
 
 LAIRD & LEE, CHICAGO. 
 
 Adv. C.
 
 THIS SERIES ; , fhe 
 
 Library Library 
 
 J GROWS J 
 
 Ol Montn after Month - Ol 
 
 Choice Choice 
 
 Fiction ^SERVED POPULARITY. Fiction 
 
 WH5T? . . . BECAUSE 
 
 It Contains Only Sterling Books, Beautifully 
 Printed, Illustrated and Bound. 
 
 The F7owers of the American 
 
 Paper-bound Book Trade. 
 
 TIE TEN GREflT FRENCH HOVELS 
 
 Translated by Master Hands. 
 
 I'. 
 
 3. SAPPHO .......................... By ALFHONSE DAUDET 
 
 4. A MAN OF HONOR ............... By OCTAVE FEUILLET 
 
 5. MADAME BOVARY .............. By GUSTAVE FLAUBERT 
 
 6. MAUPRAT ............................ By GEORGE SAND 
 
 7. A LIFE'S DECEIT ......... By the BROTHERS GONCOURT 
 
 8. " NOTRE CCEUR " .............. By GUY DE MAUPASSANT 
 
 9. THE CHOUANS ................. By HONORE DE BALZAC 
 
 10. PIERRE ET JEAN ............. By GUY DE MAUPASSANT 
 
 For full Lists of our French Translations and of our HIGH 
 CLASS COPYRIGHTED NOVELS by American Authors send 
 for our complete catalogue, 
 
 Readers of good literature are advised to procure LAIBD & LEB'S publica 
 tions, as they are printed in large type on excellent paper, profusely illustrated, 
 and bound in solid and attractive covers. 
 
 Sold by all Newsdealers and upon all Trains, or supplier 
 by the Publishers, 
 
 L-AIFRD & L.EES, OHIOAC3O. 
 
 \dT. D.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 JUL 3 1953 
 
 PormL9 15m-10,'48(B1039)444 
 
 UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA 
 
 AT 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 PS 
 
 Red - 
 
 2679 
 R22t 
 
 A Tennessee 
 judge. 
 
 iafi>3JUL 3 RECD 
 
 PS 
 
 2679 
 
 R22t 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY 'FACILITY 
 
 AA 000120533 5