By way of acknowledging the assistance he had thus afforded me, I had mailed a handwritten copy of one of these tales to the frontiersman, along with a letter informing him of my recent nuptials. I had not received an answer, however, and assumed either that he had not received my package, or that his recent political defeat had left him too dispirited to reply.

It was a brisk, brilliantly sunny afternoon at the very end of October—more than a year since I had last set eyes on the frontiersman. Seated at my writing table in front of the second-story window that overlooked Capitol Square, I was so deeply absorbed in my latest endeavor—the composition of a story about a man haunted by a mysterious doppelgänger—that only by slow degrees did I became aware of a strange commotion on the street outside my boarding house.

Glancing out the window, I gave a start of surprise. There, mounted on a handsome black steed, was a singularly imposing figure, garbed in the colorful, buck-skin attire of the backwoods huntsman. I saw at once that it was none other than my erstwhile companion, Davy Crockett, whose presence had already attracted a large, excited crowd of neighborhood children.

Leaping from my place, I dashed down the stairs and into the parlor, where Muddy, seated upon a chair before the dormer window, was thoroughly engrossed in her needlework. Stretched out, face downwards, in the center of the floor was my darling little wife, who—crayon in hand—was busily drawing a delightful sketch of a frolicking puppy, while humming softly to herself.

“Muddy! Sissy!” I cried. “You must come at once! We have a most unexpected, if inordinately welcome, visitor.”

Accompanying their actions with many expressions of curiosity and wonder, my loved ones immediately suspended their occupations, rose to their feet, and followed me out the front door. Excited ejaculations burst from their lips at their first glimpse of the frontiersman. Making our way through the chattering crowd of children, we hurried toward our visitor—myself in the lead, Muddy and Sissy following closely at my heels.

“Howdy there, pard!” Crockett declared with a broad grin as he saw me approach. “I am mighty tickled to see you again” Swiftly dismounting from his horse, he gave my hand a powerful shake before turning his attention to the women.

“Why, I’ll be hanged if you two gals ain’t got even purtier since I last clapped eyes on you!” Enveloping Muddy in his arms, he hugged her warmly, then turned to Sissy and—placing his hands upon her slender waist—raised her high in the air for a moment before setting her back down upon her feet.

“Miz Virginny, I reckon that marriage plumb agrees with you, for you are lit up just as bright as a glow-worm on a summer night!”