& B. K.* were the only additional guests to Miss M. & Miss Jeffrey her companion. About 3, B. K. came. I only was in the parlour, the girls were dressing, presently Ann came down, & told me Miss M. & Miss J. were up stairs in my room. "And you left them there alone?" exclaimed I. "To be sure," answered Ann, with her usual nonchalance. "I have never been introduced to them & they asked me to show them to a chamber." "And you let them go in alone!!" "To be sure." I hastened up stairs & found them combing their hair. They had taken off their bonnets & large capes. "You see," said Miss M. "we have complied with your request & come sociably to pass the day with you. We have been walking all the morning, our lodgings were too distant to return, so we have done as those who have no carriages do in England, when they go to pass a social day." I offered her combs, brushes, etc. But showing me the enormous pockets in her french dress, said they were provided with all that was necessary, & pulled out nice little silk shoes, silk stockings, a scarf for her neck, little lace mits, a gold chain & some other jewellry, & soon without changing her dress was prettily equipped for dinner or evening company. We were all as perfectly at our ease as if old friends. Miss M.'s toilette was soonest completed & sitting down by me on the sopha, & handing me the tube, we had a nice social chat before we went down stairs. I introduced Mr. Smith, my nephews, & son &c. Mr. S. took a seat on the sopha by her, & I on a chair on her other side, to be near to introduce others. It was quite amusing to see Mr. S. He took the tube & at first applied its wrong cup to his lips, but in the warmth of conversation perpetually forgot it, & as he always gesticulates a great deal with his hands he was waving about the cup, quite forgetful of its use, except when I said, as I continually had to do, "Put it to your lips." But Miss M. has admirable tact & filled up the gaps of his part of the conversation, made by the waving of the tube, by her intuitive perception & talked as fluently of Lord Brougham, Lord Durham & other political personages, of whom Mr. S. enquired as if she had heard every word. A little after 4, Mrs. Randolph & Mrs. Coolidge came. I was glad Mrs. R. was so handsomely dressed *Bayard Kirkpatrick, her nephew.

(in general she disregards her toilette) & looked so dignified & well, for I wished Miss M. to see the daughter of Jefferson to advantage. Mrs. C. looked lovely & elegant. I gave Mrs. R. a seat next Miss M. But she said but little & afterwards told us, the very touch of the Tube, put all her ideas to flight. She went to the contrary extreme of Mr. S., & kept the cup pressed so tightly on her lips, that she could scarcely open them. Mrs. Coolidge managed better, & conversed with perfect ease & great fluency until dinner, which was not served until five oclock, when the curtains being drawn & shutters closed, the candles on the table were lit & made everything look better. Miss M. sat next me, Mrs. R. below her, Miss Jeffries led in by B. K. sat between him & Mr. S., & was, they say, extremely entertaining. J. Bayard sat all the time by Mrs. C., the old friend of his sisters & seemed delighted with her. Dinner went off very well. I conversed a great deal with Miss M., as Mrs. R. would not. Our conversation was very interesting & carried on in a tone that all the rest of the company could hear. One fact was new & strange. Speaking of the use of ardent spirits by the poor, she said its high price precluded its use, there were now few gin-shops. Opium had been substituted by the poor for gin, & apothecaries boys kept constantly busy, making up penny & ha-penny worths of opium. It was taken not in sufficient quantities to exhilerate, but only to stupefy & satisfy the cravings of hunger. What a wretched state of society does this imply! Her conversation is rich in most interesting illustrations of manners, facts & opinions & what she said at dinner, if written down would fill 4 or 5 such pages. While at table, a note from Mr. Clay was handed me, so handsomely written & so full of compliments for Miss M. & regrets from being prevented joining our party in the evening, that I handed it to her & she then burst forth in an eloquent eulogium of him. It was near 7 when we returned to the parlour, which was brilliantly lighted, (as I think light a great promoter of social pleasure). Mr. King was lounging in the rocking chair, quite at his ease. He knew Miss M. & instantly sat down on one side of her, I on the other. Mr. King* engaged her in details about the English affairs & great men.

*Probably John Pendleton King, Senator from Georgia.

most intimate personal, as well as political friend. All the other distinguished men passed in review. It was a rich treat to hear her. Her words flow in a continual stream, her voice pleasing, her manners quiet & lady-like, her face full of intelligence, benevolence & animation. She always leans back in the corner of the sopha, seemingly unconscious of the presence of any one except the person she is talking with. Mr. & Mrs. Frelinghuysen & Mrs. Burgess (a most lovely young widow) Mrs. Thornton, Mrs. Bomford & her family, Mr. & Mrs. Calhoun & her 3 young ladies, the Southards,

VOL. XL.-68

ner, Mrs. Bomford was unexpectedly pleased because unexpectedly she felt herself at ease with Miss M. She is so simple, plain, good natured & unaffected, that I wonder every one does not feel at ease. Ease & animation pervaded the whole of the company, we had some delightful singing from the young ladies, Scotch songs to perfection. It was II oclock before the party broke up. Every one gratified at an opportunity of meeting Miss M., in such a quiet, social manner. The next day, by appointment, I accompanied Miss M. & Miss J. to Kalorama. Anna Maria went with us. In a carriage

she needs not her tube, but hears distinctly without it. In a carriage, too, sitting so close one feels so confidential. We rode about from 12 until past three & our conversation would fill several sheets. I enquired about her early life, her motives for embracing literature as a pursuit, the formation of her mind, habits & opinions, all of which she freely gave me the history, & an interesting history it is. "Do tell me," said I, "if praise & celebrity, like everything else do not lose their relish?" "I never," said she, "had much relish for general praise; the approbation of those I love & esteem or respect, I highly value. But newspaper praise or censure, are perfectly indifferent to me. The most valued advantage I have gained is the facility which it gives me to gain access to every person, place or thing I desire, this is truly a great advantage.' Speaking of the lionizing of celebrated people, "Well," said she, laughing, "I have escaped that, to my knowledge, I have never been made a show of, or run after as a lion." Of course, I did not undeceive her. I asked her how I should understand an expression she several times used, "Since I have been employed by government." She said, two of the subjects she had illustrated in her stories, had been by the request of Lord Brougham & Lord Durham, who supplied her with the materials, or principles, viz, the Poor-Laws, on Taxation. She was employed by them to write on these two subjects, on which account she & her mother had removed to London, as the transmission of Pamphlets by the mail, became too burthensome, frequently requiring her to send a wheel-barrow to the Post Office. For the last two years she & her mother have resided in London, have a small house adjoining the Park, which is as quiet & pleasant as in the country. Here she had daily intercourse with the members of the Cabinet & leaders of the whig party, particularly the above-named gentlemen. She never makes visits & receives them only at 2 specified hours every day, but while Parliament is sitting, dines out (at night, remember) every

day. Once, while at Lord Durham's in the country, at table, a gentleman sitting next her observed, "There is one subject, Miss M., I think your genius admirably calculated to illustrate." "What is that," said she, with eagerness, glad to be instructed. "The Poor Laws" replied he. "Why" exclaimed Lord D., " in what corner of England have you been living, that you do not know, this is the very subject on which she has most ably written." "I did, I candidly own," said Miss M., when she told me this, "I did feel completely mortified." My paper will hold no more. I will soon write again, but as I cannot write all this over & it may amuse Maria, I wish you would send it to her. Oh how tired my head & hands are! The girls are equally so of holding their tongues.

To Mrs. Boyd

Christmas day, 1835.

Poor Mr. Clay, was laughing & talking & joking with some friends when his papers & letters were brought to him; he naturally first opened the letter from home. A friend who was with him, says he started up & then fell, as if shot, & his first words were "Every tie to life is broken!"* He continued that day in almost a state of distraction, but has, I am told, become more composed, though in the deepest affliction. Ann was his pride, as well as his joy & of all his children, his greatest comfort. She was my favorite, so frank, gay, & warm hearted. Her husband was very very rich. Their plantation joined Mr. Clay's & afforded a daily intercourse. Of five daughters, she was the last, & now she is gone, & poor Mrs. Clay, in her declining age is left alone & bereaved of the support & comfort which daughters & only daughters can afford. I now, cannot realize that you or I can ever be so bereaved, we are so far advanced towards our journey's end.

*The story was that he fainted. Ann Brown Clay was his favorite child. Her husband was James Erwine, of New

Orleans

M

Y English friend thought it was a hold-up. So no doubt did the passengers jolting drowsily in the stage-coach. Two men rode quickly up to the open windows; the stage stopped, and they glanced inside. They were well browned and carried excellent Winchester rifles.

"He ain't there. Thank ye, gentlemen; an' you, Miss"-this last to the school ma'am, who was the least surprised of any. "I don't suppose you've seen no footpassenger up the road-nor on the bench, perhaps? Wa'al, that's about all."

My Englishman and I had been riding some two hundred yards behind the stage. It was a slow, lumpy road down the canyon. Farther up, on the bench, we had fallen in converse with Luther, the stage-driver. There the road was wide, and we could ride alongside; Luther spun for us many painful yarns, involving much of battle, murder and sudden death, of catamounts and rattlesnakes, of vast lakes and mighty deserts. Luther was on the whole the most varied and picturesque liar I have ever known, and he delighted the heart of my English globetrotting friend. We promised ourselves a pleasant evening in Luther's company when we should reach North Star, and we had relinquished our place along the stage regretfully, and only when the road had become

too narrow.

Morley had been drifting at leisurely pace around the world, and I had fallen in with him at Portland, fresh from two weeks on the Pacific. Then with vast delight he had come inland with me and had knocked about the mining camps in the mountains back of North Star. We were coming back to town, and our horses had overtaken the stage. Morley was grieving that we had only seven miles to go.

"A week in the mining camps," he had complained, "and no adventures; just fancy! But when I'm home I'll appropriate some of Luther's. Still, I rather

hoped for an adventure of our own; that's the worst of the 'disappearing frontier.""

So he rather welcomed the browned strangers with their rifles, and we all fell into conversation when we drew up by the coach.

"Prisoner broke jail-that's all; he come this way." Frank Simers, the big sheriff, felt a certain shame at confessing the escape, and his deputy coughed apologetically.

"An' the slickest cuss in this country," added the sheriff. "A low, dog-goned bank robber. Started a shootin' on the sidewalk an' sicked the cashier onto his pal, and then ran inside and cleaned out eight hundred dollars in gold, an' carried it away, too. 'Twan't much to get caught for, but they want him in Wyoming when we get through with him. Broke away this afternoon, an' Tom Husack here seen him headin' for the bench. Wa'al, so'long. We'll have him by nightfall."

Luther released the brake, took up his reins, and cried "Giddap!" Then he reflected, and holding back his four horses, said that it reminded him of a man that once tried to shoot him in Nevada-"a one-eyed man, so he shot on the bias, ye might say.'

But Morley had quickly lost his liking for adventures at second hand. "Can't we help you in the search ?" he said to the sheriff.

There is no hunt that stirs the blood of your Briton as does the noble sport of hunting Man. Morley had mourned at not killing a tiger; he was keen on this new scent.

"Sure, sure," said the sheriff, not displeased at the evident enthusiasm of his ally. "We can drive him in quick, all goin' together. He's afoot."

The stage lumbered down the canyon, and the four of us turned back toward the summit. Clearly there would be no connection with the Overland for us that night.

Simers explained that being mounted, and thus lifted above the sky-line, we were so far forth at a disadvantage, and would be seen by the robber long before we could see him. "He'll crouch along the sage-brush, an' work up into the pines, an' make shift to do his

travelling by night. So the more of this bench we can cover by nightfall, the better chanct we'll have. Once he gets out o' the sage-brush an' into the sheep-grass, we can see him if he lies flat agin a stone."

So we thrashed over the bench all that afternoon, till we were choking with the universal smell of the dusty sage-brush; we started up jack-rabbits innumerable, and saw the gophers scudding to their holes. We came upon a sheep-herder, working his band of sheep down from the mountains, but could find no clue. At twilight we were together again.

"But I say," cried Morley, suddenly inspired, as we were sitting around on the grass for a brief pause, "we've no idea what the fellow looks like, you know. Haven't you a photograph, or something?"

Frank's deputy nodded assent, intimating that Governor Yandee was "almost too ondignified for a governor of the state"; but Frank's commission ran in the name of the Chief Executive, and he upheld him.

"No, Tom, he ain't ondignified, Tom; he's jest high-spirited. But I'll never hear the end of this."

Morley said that he had in his pocket letters of introduction to Governor Yandee, and that he was anticipating with much delight meeting so pleasant an acquaintance.

"Yes sirree, a fine, whole-souled feller is Bob Yandee," cried the sheriff, "and when you see him ye just give him Frank Simers' regards-assumin' that we've catched this cuss of a bank-robber. Nice feller, Bob."

be back in a minute.”

While the sheriff was gone to replenish the supply of water, we found the coat and the photograph, and examined the picture minutely. It was not a bad face-on the contrary, it struck me as decidedly a good one, with a pleasing expression of frank good-nature, and almost a masterful look about the mouth and eyes.

The man in the picture had a pleasantly recalcitrant tuft of hair, that stood up defiantly in the middle of his forehead. We had finished our examination, and Morley had put the picture in his own pocket for future reference, when the sheriff rejoined us. "Now, my lord, you just keep the picter, an' you'll know your man when you see him." Behind his back, Sheriff Frank had already begun to speak of Morley as "the Jook." To his face, he compromised on “my lord.”

"We'll get him, boys-never fear. But I won't hear the last of this from Governor Yandee. My, but Yandee'll give it to me strong. If the feller wa'n't really gone, I'd think now 'twas a joke of the Governor's. He's always playin' them practical jokes o' his."

We hobbled our horses and turned them loose in the short, dry grass. Simers and Deputy Tom had brought a trifle of provisions, anticipating that the search might after all last over the day. The stars swung about, looming large in the rarefied air even of thirty-five hundred feet of altitude; and far down the canyon the desolate howling of the coyotes was all that broke the stillness.

Morley enjoyed it hugely, and was more communicative than his wont about his own wanderings. The sheriff and Tom Husack, born with the Wanderlust that is the Westerner's birthright, had much to tell of many men in many lands, and quickly established with the Englishman the camaraderie of them that wander about the earth. The deputy was soon plain Tom for us all; in another half hour we were all calling the sheriff Frank, and assuredly the Englishman would have gotten back to first principles and his first name had his new friends happened to know it. He took his friendly cross-examination like a little man, giving good-naturedly the details of his ancestry, his father's occupations and avocations, and his grandfather's, his religious and political views and the motives that had impelled him to travel around the world. He recognized