out of linen so white it hurt your eyes to look at it; and on Sundays he wore a blue tail-coat with br**** ****ons on it.  He carried a mahogany cane with a silver head to it.  There warn't no frivolishness about him, not a bit, and he warn't ever loud.  He was as kind as he could be--you could feel that, you know, and so you had confidence.  Sometimes he smiled, and it was good to see; but when he straightened himself up like a liberty-pole, and the lightning begun to flicker out from under his eyebrows, you wanted to climb a tree first, and find out what the matter was afterwards.  He didn't ever have to tell anybody to mind their manners--everybody was always good-mannered where he was.  Everybody loved to have him around, too; he was sunshine most always--I mean he made it seem like good weather.  When he turned into a cloudbank it was awful dark for half a minute, and that was enough; there wouldn't nothing go wrong again for a week. When him and the old lady come down in the mo