Excerpt from Old Mark Langston: A Tale of Duke's Creek

At that time Ammon Duke and his wife had long been dead, and Kinsey Duke, now a man of fifty-three, or there about, with his wife and son, Ammon, dwelt in the family mansion, on the only hill in the village. A rusher (such -a man was called) had been Ammon Duke - intrepid, reckless of consequences to boldest endeavors, audacious in risks of person and fame, gaining success that often falls to such a spirit in pioneer existence. It was said that he died hard, and While berating the physician whom, calling in late, he repeatedly stigmatized as fool and liar for telling him his end was near, and urging him to turn his thoughts from earthly interests. The grief of his neighbors in town and country, or even his son's, did not seem excessive. Some of his Oldest negroes did mumble some affectionate regrets nobody knew for what. Kinsey buried him, rather decently, by the side of his deceased mother, in the grove destined to become the main village cemetery, situated near the dwell ing. SO henceforward Kinsey ruled in Ammon's stead.

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