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With something of a dog-like fidelity his thoughts turned to his wife.

"I'd take her, too," he murmured, "only I'd have to tell her how I got it."

For Joy yearns for companionship even more than grief.

Mrs. Slater sped out under the covered passageway. At the club-house entrance a policeman suddenly waved the crowd back. Standing there, she witnessed the passage of a motor car in which a hale and hearty magnate sat on the front seat with the chauffeur (who was running it for once, as he thanked heaven), while on the back seat, as Mrs. Slater unmotor-learnedly designated it, sat Miss Carhart, laughing gayly with a very good-looking man who from his ecstatic expression could be no other than "the Mr. Warren she was engaged to."

In the midst of her riches Mrs. Slater was smitten with a sudden lonesomeness.

"I must get her dress ready to-night, if I sit up till morning," she murmured, striving to attribute this melancholy to conscience awakened.

But where the street-cars waited the tall, blue-eyed butcher was waiting, too. He tipped his hat with rather an embarrassed

air. Excitement and the new hat presented Mrs. Slater at her best.

"I thought I'd wait and tell you that I've won quite a bit," he said with a shyness born of admiration. "I'd like to ride back with you if it would be agreeable."

His eyes were much more eloquent than his tongue.

"I should admire to have you," said Mrs. Slater demurely. She straightened her hat once more.

"I suppose I look a sight," she said deceptively, for the butcher's eyes told quite clearly what he thought. Then she laughed with the spontaneity of a child.

"I won, too," she said. "What do you think of that?" He swung her on the car and seated himself beside her with a dawning of the possessive sense.

"I think you're a wonder," he said slowly. "'N' I'm glad I am a marryin' man. Have I got a chance?" he demanded with laughing earnestness.

Spring and the races! Faith, 't is a heady combination!

"The idea!" said Mrs. Slater gayly, but she hoped she didn't show her feelings. That lonesomeness, somehow, had entirely disappeared.

THE BURNING HEART

By Edith M. Thomas

I, WHOм the fires of life each day
Do heat to pallor-I, who sway
Forever in the breath of strife,
Not master, but the slave of life,
A burning heart I bear!
Yet death will full extinction give,
Or kindly age a bound will set;
So, if I live, I shall outlive;
And if I die, I shall forget-

I shall not always care!

Not then, as now, at Anger's shock

This burning heart its walls shall knock;

Nor shall its hopes, o'erdarkened soon,
Amidst a crucifixion noon,

Waste into moaning air!
I, Passion's compassed fugitive,
Shall find release or refuge yet;

For, if I live, I shall outlive;

And if I die, I shall forget

I shall not always care!

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WASHINGTON IN JEFFERSON'S TIME

FROM THE DIARIES AND FAMILY LETTERS OF MRS. SAMUEL HARRISON SMITH (MARGARET BAYARD)

Edited by Gaillard Hunt from the collection of her grandson, J. Henley Smith

D

PREFATORY NOTE

URING the first forty years of its existence the city of Washington had a society more definite and real than it has come to have in later days. The permanent residents, although appurtenant to the changing official element, nevertheless furnished the framework which the larger and more important social life used to build upon, and the result was a structure of society tolerably compact and pleasing and certainly interesting. It was emphatically official, but it did not include the lower-class officials, who found their recreation for the most part at the street resorts, and its tone was dignified and wholesome. At any rate, it was genuine and national, even if it was crude, and the day of the all-powerful rich man and his dominance in social life had not yet arrived.

Samuel Harrison Smith, of Philadelphia, a writer and editor in Philadelphia, came to the city in the year 1800, soon after the Government had moved there. He was the son of Jonathan Bayard Smith, a member of the Continental Congress, signer of the Articles of Confederation and colonel of a Pennsylvania regiment during the Revolution; and although he was only twentyeight years old, he established the first national newspaper printed in America, which he called The National Intelligencer. Just before his paper was started he returned to Philadelphia, and on September 29, 1800, married his second cousin, Margaret Bayard, and their wedding journey was from Philadelphia to Washington, where they lived the rest of their lives; and for forty years their house was the resort of the most interesting characters in national public life. The first number of The National Intelli

gencer appeared October 31, 1800, and after conducting it successfully for a number of years Mr. Smith sold it to Joseph Gales, Jr., who afterward associated with himself as editor William W. Seaton. In 1813 President Madison appointed him the first Commissioner of the Revenue of the Treasury Department and on September 30, 1814, Secretary of the Treasury ad interim. From 1809 to 1819 he was president of the Bank of Washington, and later president of the Washington branch Bank of the United States until the office was abolished ten years before his death. Undoubtedly, the success of his career was partly due to the assistance given him by his talented wife.

Margaret Bayard was born February 29, 1778, in Philadelphia, the daughter of Col. John Bayard, a famous Revolutionary officer, Speaker of the Pennsylvania Assembly and member of the Continental Congress. Colonel Bayard's nephew and adopted son was James A. Bayard, a distinguished diplomat and Senator from Delaware, and James A. Bayard's son, bearing the same name, was also a Senator from Delaware, as was his grandson, the late Thomas Francis Bayard. Margaret Bayard was twenty-two years old when she married, and it was inevitable that one who wrote so readily should eventually print her pieces, and in due course she fell in with Godey, Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale, Anthony Bleecker, J. Herrick, and Miss Catherine Maria Sedgwick, and from 1823 up to a few years before her death she was an occasional contributor to the literature of the day. For Godey's Lady's Book she wrote "Domestic Sketches," an account of presidential inaugurations, and a serial moral story, printed in March, April, and May, 1837, entitled "Who is Happy?" She also wrote some Spanish tales, "Constantine" and several other Roman stories, "Lucy," "The Sister," and "Estelle Aubert," a translation from the French which Mrs. Hale printed in 1834. In 1835 she printed in The National Intelligencer a letter in verse anonymously to Harriet Martineau, and probably contributed to this paper on other occasions which can not be identified. In 1837 she wrote for The Southern Literary Messenger and Peter Parley's (Goodrich's) annual "The Token,” but anonymously. She contributed to Herrick and Longacre's National Portrait Gallery, doubtless the article on Mrs. Madison and VOL. XL.-33

probably one or two others. Her contributions were generally moral essays or stories, pitched high as the taste of the day required. The most ambitious product of her pen was a large novel in two volumes, entitled "A Winter in Washington, or Memoirs of The Seymour Family," published in 1824 (New York, E. Bliss and E. White) anonymously. Her authorship was, however, not concealed, and was generally known at the time, and the book, after being a decided success, has since become exceedingly rare. The characters were taken from real life, and it has historical value because of a number of anecdotes, chiefly of Thomas Jefferson, scattered through its pages. Another volume published by her was a little story of two hundred and fifty pages printed in 1828 and sold at a fair held for the benefit of the Washington Orphan Asylum, bearing the title "What is Gentility?" Undoubtedly, Mrs. Smith's most interesting and valuable writings were those which she never intended for publication and which have hitherto never seen the light, being her private letters in which she opens an intimate view of the famous political characters in Washington, whose acquaintance and friendship she enjoyed. These letters present a picture highly entertaining and valuable, and so do some of the reminiscences which she wrote in her note-books.

She was the intimate friend of Jefferson, who was her life's hero, and his family, and one of his most characteristic letters, that in which he discloses his views on religion, was addressed to her; of the Madisons, the Clays, the Calhouns; of William Wirt, the accomplished Attorney-General for twelve years; and of William H. Crawford, whose partisan in his candidacy for the presidency she became, besides many others. She entertained Harriet Martineau when she came to Washington on her famous tour, held long conversations with the socialist Owen of Lanark, and had as one of her intimate friends Madame de Neuville, the wife of Hyde de Neuville, the most popular of the early ministers of France to the United States. She was a remarkably truthful letter writer, and never embellished her correspondence with apocryphal gossip. She judged her fellowman charitably and believed in her country absolutely, and did not herself participate in any of the party rancor which raged around her. She was, herself, a Republican, to which

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