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The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 160 [02-22-1857]

              151.
  Down stairs during the evening, talking with
Mrs Gouverneur and Miss Church.
  I have learnt, from the landlady, Mrs Potter,
the details of poor Levison�s death-scene � which are
such that I can scarcely fancy anything more appal-
ling.    With the exception of the landlady each person
present seems to have entirely lost self-control.
Haney flung himself on the floor, shrieked out, held
his hands up to his head and cried �Oo-o-o-o-o!�
John Levison, (the brother) behaved �as if crazy�
was perpetually applying himself to the gin-bottle
and carrying it out to the two amateur watchers,
sitting on the staircase. �They kept coming in�
says Mrs P, �and going to the fire place to spit,
again and again.        I declare it was nothing but
spitting and drinking.�     And Patten, that bulky
hard-featured, discordantly-voiced, Hippopotamus-
like man would come forwards with his hands
in his trousers pockets, and stare into Levison�s
face with a look of stolid fright.   And there
the dying man lay �with his eyes rolling.� Mrs
L fetched from the adjoining room fell swoon-
ing to the ground, and was carried out ���
  Horrible!  Horrible!  No solemn, sorrowful recogni-
tion of Death as  something that had been thought
of, as an old, old, sad story, that we must
submit to, and if we can do no better let our hearts
break in silence ���                  But instead of this               
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