to the sister o' a wanderin' preacher, a girl who had once lived in
cities, an' she soon showed him that the ol' feud business must be
forgotten. But it is a mite unusual, even hyeh, to farm a man's land an'
bring up his child fo' thirteen years, an' then give him everythin' yo'
can with the privilege o' shootin' yo' at sight for all the favors
done."

"It doesn't sound a bit like the usual feud story," said Hamilton, "one
always thinks of those as being cold-blooded and cruel."

"Thar an't a mite o' intentional cruelty in them; it's jes' that life is
held cheap. Most o' them begun over some small thing like an election."

"There were quite a number of them, Uncle Eli, weren't there?"

"One ran into the other so easily that one feud would often look like
half a dozen, an' trouble would be goin' on in various places. But
there were really seven of them, all big ones."

[Illustration: KENTUCKY MOUNTAINEER FAMILY. In the heart of the feud
district, where the rifle is never out of reach. (_Courtesy of the
Spirit of Missions._)]

"What were they, Uncle Eli?"

"Wa'al, thar was the McCoy-Hatfield feud in Pike County, that started
over the ownership o' two plain razorback hogs, but afterwards got very
bitter, owin' to the friendship o' one o' the McCoy girls with the son
o' Bad Anse Hatfield. Then thar was the Howard-Turner feud in Harlan
County. An' then--"