In a long horseback-ride over a turnpike-road connecting two large Southwestern cities, I stopped to dine and feed my horse at a house of entertainment. Entering a small apartment that served for a sleeping-room for the family and a sitting-room for travelers, I met a sight very unusual in that region. I found the walls of the room covered with a large number of cheap lithographic portraits of the prominent statesmen and military heroes of the country. A very brief interview showed me that my host was "to the manner born," and a very striking and original character. At length I alluded to the portraits hanging about his room and said:
"You seem to be very fond of pictures, sir."
"I am a patriot, sir," he replied.
Feeling quite sure that I should get a positive opinion, without any sort of hesitation I said to him:
"And who, sir, do you think was the greatest man of all the Presidents, statesmen, and military and naval heroes whose portraits you have here?"
"Andrew Jackson, sir," was the prompt reply.
"Ah!" said I, "I see, sir, that you have the portrait of Washington. Was Andrew Jackson a greater man than George Washington, sir?"
"I tell you, sir," said he, "Andrew Jackson was the greatest man God ever made. He was a man of firmness—more firmness than Washington."
Greatly to my surprise, I had found lying open upon a bed in our sitting-room a copy of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's "Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin," but recently published, the only copy I ever saw in that region. I made some inquiries in regard to it, and he told me he had bought it of a Jew peddler who had spent a night with him. He was very much absorbed in reading it.
"I tell you, sir," said he, "the man that wrote that book was a very smart man. They say 'twas a woman; but I tell you, sir, the man that wrote that book was a very smart man." In all our long conversation he did not give the slightest possible credence to the idea that the book had been written by a woman. His oft-repeated and invariable statement was: