Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1860-01-26

TO the memory Of Captain Peter Simpson,
who died just after the REVOLUTION The
captain was a fine old gentleman, and il was
probOble that before many years, they would
be able 10 raise, by subscription, the
amount Necessary to the purchase Of the
monument Wher they did get the shaft
there would be public erection Of the sarne;
and Mr. Ogre had called to employ NJ.
Brown TO write an Ode Tor that occasion
lie wished me 10 be sure and say that the
captain was a man OF temperate haoits,
drank neither rum nor cider, and ehewed no
tobacco. could rhyme it in, somehoS, be
said. q
Phpt night, instead Of writing as ouEi.
to have done i sat and watched Lucy Green's
nimble fingers at her work; and we talked
about the weaiher--a far more interesting
and refreshing theme, TO me, than literature.
The next morning arose, hoping I had
seen the worst OF il. How vain are human
calculations! At loon counted fifteen 81.
buns which had been brought for some
thought Of mine to be written therein
There were, also, four books Of autographs, ),
and little avalanche of letters. hastened
to classify these last. will give the reader
the result.
Two asked my influence to procure them
places in the city.
| Five wanted me to send articles from
their pens to different newspapers for pub
LEGATION.
Three asked me how much made in a
year by writing.
Seven begged lines written on the death
of friends.
| Last, bu, not least, there was q peIwiper
placed on my table by some unknown friend:
goodness knows should have needed it,
had | filled half my orders.
In the afternoon, I went to Miss Hart
wells, along with Cousin Nelly, to tea
There / had the felicity Of meeting the
literati o! Wheatwold assembled, Miss II.
informed me. to do honor to the Celebrated,
and deservedly famous, John Brown
The Editors of the Evening Stsr and the
Luminary were present; also their reporters;
the poet of Puff g. Blow; George Stiles.
who wrote love-lctters in verse; and a half
dozen old ladies' who wished to satisfy their
curiosity regarding the Personelle Of Mr..
Brown. The remarks of these latter were
decidedly interesting. happened 10 oyer-
hear something of them while standing be.
hind window curtain. One lady said that
| was the exact image of Napoleon Ill ;
another, that she should have taken me''for
John Randolph; while third soemnlv as
serted that was the twin Of Lorenzo Dow
in looks. But the most sensible critic of
the lot said that resembled nobody but old
Sammy Crockett, the tin-peder. or course
| was delighted. Who wouldn't have beeni
| am not a vain man, bu: no one can hear
his good looks praised without sensation
of satisfaction.
Throughout the whole evening, compl;.
mented on my authorship, without stint or
cessation. The editor OF the Saturd Y
Evening Star promises TO forward me his
magnificent sheet, weekly, if would con
tribute monthly. an article of four columns
The poet of Puff g. Blow expressed his
regret at having been born so soon, when
the age was not ready to receive and npprs
cate true genius and Miss Hartwell echo.
ed the regret with deep sigh.
Arrived once more In my chamber, at the
farmhouse, examined the articles which
had been received by my table during my
absence. There was a rein forcement OF al
bums-four notes requesting lines for
friends tomb-stones-one exquisite affair
from a lady, signing herself Mable May,
and expressing the deep, pure love she bore
the author of "Cavandsh." in no sparing
terms. There were ten letters begging my
opinion on a notorious city weekly; aud
thirteen asking the favor Of a correspond
ence! Dear reader, am not exaggerating.
this was my real experience; it has been
that of almost every author.
And this was the reft had promised my
SELF paced the chamber floor in great
perturbation. There was the work of a
whole month, at least, and that per iod was
beyond the time l had appointed for my stay
What was to do! Iasked the question
for the iorlieth time since my arrva. at
Wheatwold.
] stepped into the corridor for air. Lucy
Green was just coming up to her room.
went to her,& taking her the BY hand, led
her to the door Of my. chamber, and point
ing at the pile of albums, autograph. books
and letters 8. asked her the question
what am to dol'
Go home" locked into the brown
eyes to see if they agreed with hel voice.
They did. said
''Well, Lucy, if that is your sincere aGvice,
| will follow it,"
1T is, Mr.. Brown; fer rest you cannot
have here. Go home."
And you really wish itr'
Il do
Then you will 6ribe me little, fLucy
will you not?"
YES, if you will not without"
MY terms are easy. When | am at
home, shall write 20 you, you must reply.
Will you!"
She bluseed AMI looked down. still
| heldher hand.
win you, Lucy! Press my hand for yes
and drop it for NJ" --
She held my fingers little closer. ki,s
ed her forehead and let her 60.
The next morning. and my valsc were
al the railway station by dawn. | left be,
L. 4