were livin' jes' like pioneers. An' some, not bein' able to keep up the
strain, fell back."

"So it really isn't the fault of the mountaineers at all," cried the
boy, "but because they were sort of marooned."

"It was unfortunate," replied the old man, "but it really was our own
fault. If the mount'n country was worth developin', we should have
developed it; if not, we should have left."

"I've often wondered why you didn't, Uncle Eli," said Hamilton.

"Yo' must remember," the Kentuckian said, "that the mount'neers are a
most independent lot. They want to be independent, an' up hyeh, every
man is his own master. But, thar bein' no available market if they did
work hard, what was the use o' workin'? Some o' them, 'specially down in
the gullies, got lazy an' shif'less. But they hung on all the harder to
the idees o' the old times,--honor an' hospitality."

"I've always understood," said Hamilton, "that there was more
hospitality to be found up here in the mountains than in almost any
place on the globe."

"As yo' said," the old man continued, "we're jes' like a crew o'
shipwrecked sailors marooned on an island without a boat, without any
means o' gettin' away. If some o' the families high up in the gullies
are ignorant, it's because they've had no schoolin', not because they
haven' got the makin's o' good citizens; if they're a bit careless about
religion, it's because they've had no churchin', an' if they don' pay
much heed to law, it's because the law has never done much for them.