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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 215 [10-04-1858]

and shortly afterwards he did quite suddenly.    It�s
out of life�s ordinary queer chances that I should sit in
his son�s parlor in Canada.       Martin and Conworth joined
us thus there and we, presently, rattled back to the farm-house.
Dozing, reading and scribbling this in the rest of the
  5.  Tuesday.  Out with George Bolton and Arthur Tew;
they gunning with little success.
  6.  Wednesday.  Up by 2 A.M. not having slept a wink
from anticipation.   A son of John Tew�s came to arouse
us, and we found him waiting outside.    A dark night
though innumerable stars were shining.  As we progressed
over the ploughed fields, down the hill side � Conworth�s
house stands upon an eminence � it seemed to me as if
we were crossing the convex top of the world, indistinct,
ghostly trees glooming up around the very circular hori-
zon.    How the stars winked and glittered, too!   Some-
thing beautiful and awful in the thought of their watching
a sleeping world.    Arrived at John Tew�s, folks all astir,
lanterns gleaming about, horses being put to, and dogs
everywhere.   Fell to on cold pork and bread and ate heartily.
A dog, a big fellow, three-quarters bull-dog, with a hideous
head which opened with a snap to an unnecessary width
when you gave him anything had his visage between my
knees during the repast.     Half an hour�s delay and we are
off.     The party consists of John and William Tew, two youths
of their household, a man on horseback, George Bolton and 
myself.  We ride in Tew�s wagon, behind the horses.   The
night was cold and hoarfrost lay on the country.  So we               
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