He was a finely proportioned man, about six feet high, apparently forty-five years of age, and of very frank, pleasing, open countenance.

He held his rifle in his hand, and from his right shoulder hung a bag made of raccoon skin, to which there was a sheath attached containing a large butcher-knife.
"This is Colonel Crockett's residence, I presume," said the stranger.
"Yes," was the reply, with a smile as of welcome.
"Have I the pleasure of seeing that gentleman before me ?" the stranger added.
"If it be a pleasure," was the courtly reply, "you have, sir." "Well, Colonel," responded the stranger, "I have ridden much out of my way to spend a day or two with you, and take a hunt." "Get down, sir," said the Colonel, cordially.

"I am delighted to see you.

I like to see strangers.

And the only care I have is that I cannot accommodate them as well as I could wish.