profanity would have discounted the “army in Flanders.” Jackson was the star actor in this riot of passion and frenzy. His brow was corrugated with wrath. His tall, sinewy form shook like an aspen leaf. His face was the livid color of the storm-cloud when it is hurling its bolts of thunder. His Irish blood was up to the boiling-point, and his eyes flashed with the fire of war. He was an overflowing Vesuvius of rage, pouring the hot lava of denunciation on the Love family in general and his victorious rival in particular. Col. Love stood before this storm unblanched and unappalled--for he too had plenty of “sand,” and as lightly esteemed the value of life--and answered burning invective with invective hissing with the same degree of heat and exasperation. Jackson denounced the Loves as a “band of land pirates,” because they held the ownership of nearly all the choice lands in that section. Love retorted by calling Jackson “a damned long, gangling, sorrel-topped soap-stick.” The exasperating offensiveness of this retort may be better understood when it is explained that in those days women “conjured” their soap by stirring it with a long sassafras stick. The dangerous character of both men was well known, and it was ended by the interference of mutual friends, who led the enraged rivals from the grounds in different directions. It is probable that this crushing defeat, with its intense mortification and odious memories, gave Jackson a profound distaste for the turf and other time-wasting sports of pioneer life. At all events, he turned his attention to the sober and “weightier matters” of life, and eagerly embraced the “tide in the affairs of men” which led to fame and fortune, and enabled him, on the field of battle, in the forum of law, in the council hall and at the head of a great nation, to make for himself “One of the few, the immortal names That were not born to die.”