"There is, though," the Major interrupted, "and that's where we're going to have a big fight on our hands when it comes to the rub. This Lewis Robards, her first husband, was a quarrelsome cuss. Every man that looked at his wife, he swore was after her, and if she lifted her eyes, he was sure she was guilty. There was no divorce law in Virginia and Robards petitioned the Legislature to pass an Act of Divorce in his favor. The dog swore in this petition that his wife had deserted him and was living with Andrew Jackson. He was boarding with her mother, the widow Donelson. The Legislature passed the Act, but it only authorized the Courts of the Territory of Kentucky to try the case, and grant the divorce if the facts were proven.
"Robards never went to Court with it for over two years, and Jackson, under the impression that the Legislature had given the divorce, married Rachel Robards at Natchez in August, 1791.
"Two years later, the skunk slips into Court and gets his divorce!
"As quick as Old Hickory heard this, he married her over again. There was a mighty hullabaloo kicked up about it by the politicians. They tried to run Jackson out of the country—the little pups who were afraid of him. He challenged the leader of this pack of hounds, and shot him dead—"
"Served him right, too," broke in the Tennesseean, removing his pipe, with a nod of his shaggy head.
"But it don't help him on the way to Washington!" The Major grunted, suddenly rising and dismissing the subject for the night.
The Boy's curiosity was kindled to see the great man whose name had filled the world.
The distance to Nashville was quickly covered. The Major pressed straight through the town without pause and drew rein at the General's gate.
The welcome they received from their distinguished host was so simple, so genuine, so real, the Boy's heart went out in loyal admiration.