"'My grandfather,' goes on the Colonel, 'is a Jackson man; from the top of the deck plumb down to the hock kyard, he's nothin' but Jackson.This yere attitood of my grandsire, an' him camped in the swarmin' midst of a Henry Clay country, is frootful of adventures an' calls for plenty nerve.But the old Spartan goes through.
"'Often as a child, that old gent has done took me on his knee an'
told me how he meets up first with Gen'ral Jackson.He's goin' down the river in one of them little old steamboats of that day, an' the boat is shore crowded.My grandfather has to sleep on the floor, as any more in the bunks would mean a struggle for life an' death.
Thar's plenty of bunkless gents, however, besides him, an' as he sinks into them sound an' dreamless slumbers which is the her'tage of folks whose consciences run trop, he hears 'em drinkin' an'
talkin' an' barterin' mendacity, an' argyfyin' pol'tics on all sides.
"'My grandfather sleeps on for hours, an' is only aroused from them torpors, final, by some sport chunkin' him a thump in the back.The old lion is sleepin' on his face, that a-way, an' when he gets mauled like I relates, he wakes up an' goes to struggle to his feet.
"'"Bars an' buffaloes!" says my grandfather; "whatever's that?""'"Lay still, stranger," says the party who smites him; "I've only got two to go.""'That's what it is.It's a couple of gents playin' seven-up; an'
bein' crowded, they yootilizes my grandfather for a table.This sport is swingin' the ace for the opp'site party's jack, an' he boards his kyard with that enthoosiasm it comes mighty clost to dislocatin' my old gent's shoulder.But he's the last Kaintuckian to go interfcrin' with the reecreations of others, so he lays thar still an' prone till the hand's played out.
"'"High, jack, game!" says the stranger, countin' up; "that puts me out an' one over for lannyap.""'This yere seven-up gent turns out to be Gen'ral Jackson, an' him an' my grandfather camps down in a corner, drinks up the quart of Cincinnati Rectified which is the stakes, an' becomes mootually acquainted.An', gents, I says it with pride, the hero of the Hoss-shoe, an' the walloper of them English at New Orleans takes to my grandfather like a honeysuckle to a front porch.
"'My grandfather comes plenty near forfeitin' then good opinions of the Gen'ral, though.It's the next day, an' that ancestor of mine an' the Gen'ral is recoverin' themse'fs from the conversation of the night before with a glass or two of tanzy bitters, when a lady, who descends on the boat at Madison, comes bulgin' into the gents'
cabin.The captain an' two or three of the boat's folks tries to herd her into the women's cabin; but she withers 'em with a look, breshes 'em aside, an' stampedes along in among the men-people like I explains.About forty of 'em's smokin'; an' as tobacco is a fav'rite weakness of the tribe of Sterett, my grandfather is smokin'
too.
"'"I wants you-all to make these yere miscreants stop smokin'," says the lady to the captain, who follows along thinkin' mebby he gets her headed right after she's had her run out an' tires down some.
"You're the captain of this tub," says the lady, "an' I demands my rights.Make these barb'rous miscreants stop smokin', or I leaves the boat ag'in right yere.""'The lady's plumb fierce, an' her face, which is stern an' heroic, carries a capac'ty for trouble lurkin' 'round in it, same as one of them bald hornet's nests on a beech limb.Nacherally my grandfather's gaze gets riveted on this lady a whole lot, his pipe hangin' forgetful from his lips.The lady's eyes all at once comes down on my grandfather, partic'lar an' personal, like a milk-crock from a high shelf.
"'"An' I means you speshul," says the lady, p'intin' the finger of scorn at my grandfather."The idee of you standin' thar smokin' in my very face, an' me a totterin' invalid.It shorely shows you ain't nothin' but a brute.If I was your wife I'd give you p'isen.""'"Which if you was my wife, I'd shore take it," says my grandfather; for them epithets spurs him on the raw, an' he forgets he's a gent, that a-way, an' lets fly this yere retort before he can give himse'f the curb.
"'The moment my grandfather makes them observations, the lady catches her face--which as I tells you is a cross between a gridiron an' a steel trap--with both her hands, shakes her ha'r down her back, an' cuts loose a scream which, like a b'ar in a hawg-pen, carries all before it.Then she falls into the captain's arms an'
orders him to pack her out on deck where she can faint.
"'"Whatever be you-all insultin' this yere lady for?" says a passenger, turnin' on my grandfather like a crate of wildcats.
"Which I'm the Roarin' Wolverine of Smoky Bottoms, an' I waits for a reply.""'My grandfather is standin' thar some confoosed an' wrought up, an'
as warm as a wolf, thinkin' how ornery he's been by gettin' acrid with that lady.The way he feels, this yere Roarin' Wolverine party comes for'ard as a boon.The old gent simply falls upon him, jaw an'
claw, an' goes to smashin' furniture an' fixin's with him.
"'The Roarin' Wolverine allows after, when him an' my grandfather drinks a toddy an' compares notes, while a jack-laig doctor who's aboard sews the Roarin' Wolverine's y'ear back on, that he thinks at the time it's the boat blowin' up.
"'"She's shore the vividest skrimmage I ever partic'pates in," says the Roarin' Wolverine; "an' the busiest.I wouldn't have missed it for a small clay farm.""'But Gen'ral Jackson when he comes back from offerin' condolences to the lady, looks dignified an' shakes his head a heap grave.
"'"Them contoomelious remarks to the lady," he says to my grandfather, "lowers you in my esteem a lot.An' while the way you breaks up that settee with the Roarin' Wolverine goes some towards reestablishin' you, still I shall not look on you as the gent Itakes you for, ontil you seeks this yere injured female an'
crawfishes on that p'isen-takin' bluff."
"'So my grandfather goes out on deck where the lady is still sobbin'
