Ten days passed before I again saw the Major. Immediately upon his return--it was late afternoon when I heard of it--I determined to take my evening walk out the long street toward his pleasant home and call upon him there. This I did, and found him in a wholesome state of fatigue, slippers and easy chair, enjoying his pipe on the piazza. Of course, he was overflowing with happy reminiscences of the hunt--the wood-and-water-craft--boats--ambushes--decoys, and tramp, and camp, and so on, without end;--but I wanted to hear him talk of "The Wild Irishman"--Tommy; and I think, too, now, that the sagacious Major secretly read my desires all the time. To be utterly frank with the reader I will admit that I not only think the Major divined my interest in Tommy, but I know he did; for at last, as though reading my very thoughts, he abruptly said, after a long pause, in which he knocked the ashes from his pipe and refilled and lighted it:--"Well, all I know of 'The Wild Irishman' I can tell you in a very few words--that is, if you care at all to listen?" And the crafty old Major seemed to hesitate. "Go on--go on!" I said, eagerly. "About forty years ago," resumed the Major, placidly, "in the little, old, unheard-of town Karnteel, County Tyrone, Province Ulster, Ireland, Tommy Stafford--in spite of the contrary opinion of his wretchedly poor parents--was fortunate enough to be born. And here, again, as I advised you the other day, you must be prepared for constant surprises in the study of Tommy's character." "Go on," I said; "I'm prepared for anything." The Major smiled profoundly and continued:-- "Fifteen years ago, when he came to America--and the Lord only knows how he got the passage-money--he brought his widowed mother with him here, and has supported, and is still supporting her. Besides," went on the still secretly smiling Major, "the fellow has actually found time, through all his adversities, to pick up quite a smattering of education, here and there--" "Poor fellow!" I broke in, sympathizingly, "what a pity it is that he couldn't have had such advantages earlier in life," and as I recalled the broad brogue of the fellow, together with his careless dress, recognizing beneath it all the native talent and brilliancy of a mind of most uncommon worth, I could not restrain a deep sigh of compassion and regret. The Major was leaning forward in the gathering dusk, and evidently studying my own face, the expression of which, at that moment, was very grave and solemn, I am sure. He suddenly threw himself backward in his chair, in an uncontrollable burst of laughter. "Oh, I just can't keep it up any longer," he exclaimed. "Keep what up?" I queried, in a perfect maze of bewilderment and surprise. "Keep what up?" I repeated.