s book, and by the time he had
reached the door he would have completely forgotten everything outside
the page he was reading, and it was necessary to send some one after
him to remind him of his errand. He certainly was very unlike
every-day boys, not only in appearance, but in habits and moral
qualities. Never did I hear a coarse or profane word pass his lips;
the purity of his soul was radiant in his beautiful modest countenance;
while his slender, boyish figure, with the ponderous white head poised
upon his long, slim neck, always reminded me of a lovely, swaying lily."

"I have seen recently in some book," said Marguerite, "that uncle was
never at his ease in polite society. This I think very absurd. To be
sure he had not the manners of a dancing-master, but--"

"Yes," interrupted mamma; "this statement is another of the usual
exaggerations current about brother. As you say, he had not the
manners of a dancing-master, and when importuned and annoyed by shallow
people, may often have been abrupt with them; but when in society, I
have always seen his company as much or more courted than that of any
other person present, and have never known him to shrink or be
embarrassed in the presence of people of distinction or rank. Few men
have, I think, been more misrepresented, though often with the kindest
intentions, than my dear brother."

"You spoke of papa's lameness while at Poultney, Aunt Esther," said
Ida, looking up from a letter that she was reading; "pray how did he
become lame? Was it serious? I do not remember hearing him mention
it."

"It occurred, I believe, in this way," said mamma. "Whilst your papa
was in the _Spectator_ office, he chanced one day to step upon a rough
box, which turned over, and hitting him upon the leg, inflicted a cut
below his knee. At first, brother thought it a mere scratch not worth
noticing; but when he subsequently took cold in it, he found it very
troublesome, and although he then consulted several medical men, they
were unable to cure it, I do not remember hearing that he was ever
confined to the house with it--probably because he could not afford to
give up his work long enough to have it properly treated; but for two
or perhaps three years he limped to and from the office. When he went
subsequently to Erie, Pennsylvania, to work as a journeyman printer,
the wound, which had partially healed, had again opened, and was very
painful. Some old woman residing there, ho