Mr. Tompkins, who chanced to be on the veranda, observed the hunter enter the gate, and met him with an extended hand and smile of welcome, saying: "Good morning, Dan. It is so long since you have been here that your face is almost the face of a stranger." "Ya-as, it's a'most a coon's age, and an old coon at that, since I been on these grounds. How's all the folks?" he answered, grasping Mr. Tompkins' out-stretched hand. "They are all well, and will be delighted to see you Dan. Come in." "Ye see I brought a gobbler," said Dan, removing the turkey from his shoulder. "I thought maybe ye'd be wantin' some wild meat, and I killed one down on the creek afore I came." Mr. Tompkins took the turkey, and calling a negro boy, bade him take it to the cook to be prepared for dinner. Then he conducted his guest to the veranda. Uncle Dan placed his long rifle and accoutrements in a far corner, and sat down by Mr. Tompkins. "Wall, how's times about heah, any how, and how's politicks?" he asked, as soon as seated. The mountain air in America, as in Switzerland, seems to inspire those who breathe it with love of liberty. The dwellers on the mountains of Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee were chiefly Abolitionists, who hated the slave-holder as free men do tyrants, and when the great struggle came on they remained loyal to the Government. As a rule, they were poor, but self-respecting, possessing a degree of intelligence far superior to that of most of the lower class of the South. The secret of the friendship between the planter and the hunter was that both were, at heart, opposed to human bondage, and though they seldom expressed their real sentiments, even when alone, each knew the other's feelings. Before Mr. Tompkins could reply to the mountaineer's question, Abner and Oleah ran up to the veranda with shouts of joy and noisy demonstrations of welcome. Uncle Dan placed one on each knee, and for some time the boys claimed all his attention. "Oh, Uncle Dan, you can't guess what we've got," Oleah cried. "Why, no; I can't. What is it?" asked Uncle Dan, abandoning attempt to return to the social chat the boys had interrupted. "A baby! a baby!" cried Oleah, clapping his hands. "A baby?" repeated Uncle Dan, in astonishment. "Yes, sir; a bran new baby, just as sweet as it can be, too." The puzzled mountaineer, with a suspicious look at Mr. Tompkins, said: "Thought ye said the folks was all well?" "They are," answered Mr. Tompkins, with an amused smile. "Dinah found the baby in a clothes-basket," put in Abner. "Oh, it's a nigger baby, is it?" asked Uncle Dan. "No, no, no; it's a white baby--a white baby," both boys quickly replied. "What do the children mean?" asked Uncle Dan, bewildered, looking from the boys to their father. "They mean just what they say," said Mr. Tompkins. "A baby was left at our door a short time ago in the clothes-basket by some unknown person." "Don't you want to see it, Uncle Dan?" Master Oleah eagerly asked.