"This is a likely young fellow, Mr. Comee. I wish I could have him with me in my corps." "It is possible," said father. "We have had some slight talk about it. We will think it over." Rogers was a big man, over six feet high, well proportioned, and apparently very strong. Later on I learned that his strength was wonderful. His features were prominent, strong, but not agreeable. His eyes were not good eyes. At times, a hard, cruel look came into his face. He seemed to be a man of great hardihood, of great presence of mind, keen and unscrupulous,--a man I should not wish for a neighbour. In answer to a remark that he must find his present life quite different from his former life, as a farmer, he said:-- "Not a bit! I never was a farmer. I was brought up in the woods on the frontier among wild animals and Indians. My father was a hunter and trapper. One day he went out hunting and toward night started to visit another hunter at his hut in the woods. His friend mistook him in the twilight and shot him. All my life has been spent in the woods, either hunting or trading with the French and Indians, or else fighting them." [Sidenote: A BOWL OF FLIP] Hepzibah Raymond came in with a bowl of flip--the proper mixture of rum, malt beer, and brown sugar. She set it down on the hearth, and her son John, a cripple, who was seated in the fireplace, drew one of the iron loggerheads out of the fire, where half a dozen of them were always being heated. He hit it against the andiron to knock the ashes off, and plunged it into the mixture. A pleasant smell arose from it; he waited till it foamed up, and then drew the loggerhead out. Hepzibah passed the bowl to Captain Rogers. "Here's to good King George and confusion to his enemies!" He took a long draught at it, and then the bowl was passed round. A man of middle age came into the room, with a whip in his hand, and his hat jammed well on his head. "Good evening, Ephraim." "Sarvent, sirs!" "Captain, this is Ephraim Winship. He knows something about Indian fighting. Show him your head, Ephraim." Ephraim took off his hat, and lifted his wig from his head. He had but one eye. There were two bare red spots on top of his head, and between them a fringe of hair ran back from his forehead. It gave him a weird appearance. "Hello!" said Rogers. "You've been among the Indians, haven't you? How did you lose your scalp or scalps? For I see you have lost two." The men made room for Ephraim. He put on his wig and sat down. "I have to keep those spots pretty well covered up these winter nights, or I have all sorts of trouble with my head.