everal conjectures. All comers
were received with a hearty handshake and were entertained with urbane
speeches. Not the humblest caller was slighted. It was late in the
evening when, having affably gotten rid of his last visitor, Burr
proposed that he and Arlington should retire. They were well content
to make the best of the scanty accommodations of the one sleeping-room
to which they were both assigned.

After a disturbed night's rest Burr awoke early and called his
drowsing companion.

"Rouse up, Mr. Arlington. Shake off this downy sleep."

"Downy sleep!" answered the Virginian, yawning and stretching; "the
only down of this couch is shucks and corn-cobs."

The two men had scarcely finished breakfasting when a committee of
local officials called to invite them to see the sights of growing
Pittsburg.

The "Emporium," as the _Gazette_ called the town, had a population of
about two thousand. Most of the buildings were of logs; a few of stone
or brick.

Burr listened with every appearance of intense interest to animated
accounts of the academy, the old Dutch church, the ferries, the
shipping-yard, Suke's Run, and Smoky Island. The party sauntered along
muddy thoroughfares--Southfield Street and Chancery Lane. They
strolled through Strawberry Avenue and Virgin Alley. They viewed the
ruins of Fort Pitt, stood on the site of historic Du Quesne, and
paused to gaze up at the garrisoned post of La Fayette, over which
floated the flag of the Old Thirteen. During the tour Burr kept up a
sprightly conversation. His guides took pains, at his request, to
introduce to him the young men of Pittsburg, and those who had the
favor of being presented felt themselves enrolled among his devoted
adherents. He carried their hearts, not by storm, but by irresistible
sunshine.

At the appointed time the visitors were warmly welcomed at Colonel
Neville's, where they were gratified to meet Judge Brackenridge. The
four gentlemen spent an hour in lively political and military talk,
over a decanter of Madeira. Under the mellowing influence of wine and
good company, the judge, with Scotch curiosity, made bold to sound
Burr in regard to the purpose of his Western trip.

"We are going out West to witness the 'Rising Glory of America,'" was
the evasive answer. "I am eager to explore that domain of which the
author of 'Bunker Hill,' has sung so sublimely:

'Hail, happy land,
The seat of empire, the abode of