and these lines are being written on a mahogany table made by him while an apprentice at Brandon.  It is a strong, substantial, two-leaved table, with curiously carved legs terminating in bear’s-feet, the claws of which display an intimate acquaintance on the part of the maker with the physiological formation of those appendages, and a more than ordinary amount of dexterity in the handling of tools.  It was while in this occupation that he gained the sobriquet of the “Tough ’Un.”  He was nearly seventeen years of age, and, though not handsome, was very intelligent and bright in his appearance, so that he was able to compete successfully for the smiles and favors of a young country lass who reigned the belle of the village.  This did not suit the “mittened” ones, and they determined to draw young Douglas into a controversy which should result in a fight,—­he, of course, to be the defeated party.  The night chosen for the onslaught was the “singing-school night,” and the time the homeward walk of Stephen from the house of the fair object of contention.  The crowd met him at the corner store.  From jests to jibes, from taunts to blows, was then, as ever, an easy path; and in reply to some unchivalric remark concerning his lady-love, Douglas struck the slanderer with all his might.  Immediately a ring was formed, and kept, until Douglas rose the victor, and without further ceremony pitched into one of the lookers-on, and stopped not until he, too, was soundly thrashed, when, with flashing eye and clenched fist, he said,—­“Now, boys, if that’s not enough, come on, and I’ll take you all together!” At this juncture, the good old Deacon, who had been trying cider in the cellar of the store, came along, and, taking Stephen by the arm, said,—­“Well, Steve, you are a tough ’un!  What! whipped two, and want more?  Come home, my boy, come home!” He was allowed ever after to go and come with his bright-eyed beauty, unmolested, and for years was known there and in the neighboring townships as the “Tough ’Un.”  Here, too, he gained the reputation of being a good fellow, a whole-souled friend, and a jolly companion.  He would read, and his favorite works were those telling of the triumphs of Napoleon, the conquests of Alexander, and the wars of Caesar.

He was still desirous of a collegiate education, and it is undoubtedly true that constant application to his books, when he should have been resting from the labors of the day, brought upon him an illness, the severity of which compelled him to abandon his employment and return to his uncle’s house.  There he obtained permission to take a course of classical studies at the academy, a permission of which he availed himself with enthusiasm.  He was then a fine, well-built youth, foremost in plays, active in all country excursions, and ever popular with his elders.  Indeed, this last trait followed him through life; and when those of his own age were at sword’s-point with him, he was sure of finding friends and favor amongst such