He was blessed with a memory which seemed absolutely never to have forgotten anything.

His mind was an inexhaustable store-house of anecdote.

These he had ever at command.

Though they were not always, indeed were seldom, of the most refined nature, they were none the less adapted to raise shouts of merriment in cabin and camp.

What Sydney Smith was at the banqueting board in the palatial saloon, such was David Crockett at the campfire and in the log hut.