Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1885-03-03

r,haxnreerassrcn oa she Author OF ssThe
Kemvems,-NHfa NHoroasms

IA. Poe, and then told an interesting
story Of the strange poet whose writings
and life have been so frequently the sub
iect of discussion among literary men
everywhere. 81 was q semlnarian OF st.
Snlpice, he began, sswhen Louis Napo-
leon consnmmated his famous coup
d'etat. The exciting events of those
DAYS. the sight of the barricades in the
streets, and the motley crowds pressing
through the faubourgs had its effect
upon us timid scholars. !, at least, be-
gan to believe that the days of '93, were
TO be revived. 1t would be too long
story to tell you how managed to leave
Paris behind me and enter the paternal
doors at Tours. Ny arrival caused many
tears. My people were poor enough,
and after family council had been held
it was decided that / should take
ship at Havre for America, my bachelor
uncle, small shop keeper, agreeing
to furnish the bigger portion of
my passage money. lt was q sorrowful
voyage for me, and landed in New
York, a stranger speaking foreign
tongue, utterly alone and friendless, my
chief wealth letter to Bishop Hughes,
then the active head of the growing do
cese of New York. / was member of
the bishops household for few months.
and finally through his influence, OBJ
tanned a position as study master and
teacher of French in the college at Ford
ham.
my life was happy enough there, and
my peaceful occupations exactly suited
nv character. The work was hard
enough, to be sure, but getting accus-
toned to my surroundings / fell easily
into my groove, and the days passed
TRANQUILITY along. It was in 1S49 that /
became firmly established in my new
home, and had begun to speak with
some freedom the English that learned
mostly from class exercises: Then hap
pened to me what, now that old age has
fully seized me, / regard as the most
eventful incident of my quiet existence
~ met Edgar Allan Poe in the flesh and
formed his, acquaintance.
'sThe first time / ran across him was
over in the Fathers recreation hall. In
conversation with the professor of phil
osophy noticed pale-faced stranger,
whose Napoleonic brow and dark sad
eyes irresistably drew my attention. At
that noon hour recreation was intro
duced to him. He was good French
scholar, and had never met one so IA
miliar with the literature of my country.
We were friends Immediately. On many
a holiday he came over to the playground
for me, and we would wander away down
to the banks of the Bronx, and while
sat at the roots of my favorite elm his
graceful figure moved restlesslv hithcr
and thither as his rhapssdies poured
forth with all the melody of which his
poet soul was capable.
''Oh, but he was the strange man;
genuine piece of eccentricity. When
read, as do continually, the abuse heap
ed upon him think sadly how little man
really understands his fellows. Poe was
not vicious, but simply one borne down
by undeserved misfortune, gentleman
suffering from the keeaest pangs Of pow
erty. used to get permission-in those
days one was hedged in by many little
rule and regulation-to go to his poor
little cottage up from the village with
its cherry trees in front and the piece Of
rock half imbedded in the velvet turf,
where he is said to have sat and shaped
his best verses-especially the 'Ulalume'
of his 'immemorial year. of 1S47-the
year he buried his wife, Virginia GLENN.
Indeed, it was pitiful to see his spirit
confined to such q place. He used to
lose nearly all his 1grandeur, it seemed to
me, when he entered his abode. How
small the rooms weTel How dwarfed he
becamel And then his very nature
changed; he became petulant, morbid.
full of rcstlessness. Out of doors. even
even when the winter cold came down
upon the hills, he was himself. With
faded old army cloak over his shoulders.
q relic of his old West Point life, he was
familiar object TO the staid villagers as
he went lettering BY through the lanes
and over the fields.
s.His favorite route was the aqueduct
road, leading over to High Bridge. Fur
Their up the river, at the end of the Ford
ham roads, was the bathing place of the
college boys. 1t is just beyond where
the boulevard now runs in a long
stretch of firm gravel. At this point the
cross land sinks down to the river bank.
Well, was In charge Of q skating bat
talon one winters day: the students
had got the Father Rector's permission
to 20 down to the river. and we set out
briskly for the ice. / wasn't very viOor-
Gus In those DAYS, and, as / couldn't
skate myself, kept up rapid promenade
between two bonfircs made by the bows
on the bank. One little chap-it was %
long ago his name has quite gone from
me-had got beyond his comrades. far
ont near the further shore, when / was
startled By cry from the. boys and 4
commotion, scattering in al directions