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 morning all the family got up out of their chairs and give them good-day, and didn't set down again till they had set down.  Then Tom and Bob went to the sideboard where the decanter was, and mixed a glass of bitters and handed it to him, and he held it in his hand and waited till Tom's and Bob's was mixed, and then they bowed and said, “Our duty to you, sir, and madam;” and _they_ bowed the least bit in the world and said thank you, and so they drank, all three, and Bob and Tom poured a spoonful of water on the sugar and the mite of whisky or apple brandy in the bottom of their tumblers, and give it to me and Buck, and we drank to the old people too. Bob was the oldest and Tom next--tall, beautiful men with very broad shoulders and brown faces, and long black hair and black eyes.  They dressed in white linen from head to foot, like the old gentleman, and wore broad Panama hats. Then there was Miss Charlotte; she was twenty-five, and tall and proud and grand, but as good as she could be when she warn't stirred up; but when she was she had a look that would make you wilt in your tracks, like her father.  She was beautiful. So was her sister, Miss Sophia, but it was a different kind.  She was gentle and sweet like a dove, and she was o