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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 013 [11-18-1858]

after Oliver. �He�s dead.� Died of the yellow fever,
three years ago, on his return down south from the usual
summer�s visit to the north, after two or three days sick-
ness.    I inquired as to his marriage.   It seems he wedded
his cousin � about whom I think I remember some slight
rallying passing between him and Keene Richards, though I
fancied the latter the candidate matrimonial.     One child is
the result of the union.      The old Judge, Kellam�s uncle is
alive yet.             So the handsome, kindly, impetuous,
self-willed young Louisianian is gone!      I liked the fel-
low and am sorry for it!     I had hoped to have shaken
hands with him again, some day � had sometimes run my
eye over the lists of hotel arrivals in the expectation I might
find his name down as a sojourner at the St Nicholas,
where all the Southerners go.    How distinctly I remember
him!    I�m sorry he�s dead.                        Keene Richards is
I know all right, I have seen his name in connection with
the Arab horses, in Sporting Papers.    Neither of him or
of Maurice Keene could Pope give me any information. He
only seems to know Oliver�s widow and has never been to
the Louisianian estates.
  19.  Friday.  In doors all day, re-writing and condens-
ing story I took to Harpers before going in the country.  Diar-
rheish and weak � had to take some laudanum to try and
check the former.   The day cold and blusterous, the wind
keeping up a mournful sighing among the housetops.  Ah,
hearty Kellam where�s your wraith now? in what un-
tried realm of existence has your sturdy actuality drifted
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