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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 103 [05-15-1851]

              pronounced him a sleepy old gentleman, and was inclined to depreciate him as
he had�nt found out he was in no ordinary society, and roared as gentle as
it were a sucking dove or nightingale.        Shakespeare was admired �
how laughable this always is; when not one in a thousand of his admirers read
him.  We talked of Byron and More � Mrs K by the bye wanting to know
the difference between the author of �Utopia� and of �Lalla  Rookh�.   No one had
read Shelley.  Mrs K �admired the character of Gulnare�.     Alfred Brown, � the
elder of the Browns [words crossed out] 					talked 
[word crossed out] common-place [word crossed out] ^|like| the rest.   It was all very 
funny. [words crossed out]
[words crossed out].�  							Now
[unclear words] all these peoplle really believed they were doing the intellectual (with
no capital to trade upon.)   [words crossed out]
[words crossed out].
  17. Saturday.  To the Post Office, and to Wall Street, where I saw Mr Anderson.
To the Hutchings-Dyspepsia-Picayune-quack�s Office, where for a moment I met rascal
Hawkins.   Back to Robinson; drawing a little, and more reading of Bulwer�s �Harold.�
Evening called at Duane for a brief space, then return, bed-mounting with a compound
I got from Laurie, for the benefit of bugs, which, veritably exist here in legions.  I
as Leigh Hunts clam says, could wish for the sign of the comb to scratch myself with.
Reading till far into the night.
  18. Sunday.  Through the rain to Chapins. A good sermon on the Prodigal
son, though not great; the soul of it being that we contemplated Deity with more of
[unclear word] than love, which moves all things. Mr Hart there. Returning, and the day
clearing, having completed �Harold�, started to the Ferry, crossed to Brooklyn, found
a boatman, and was rowed across the tranquil water to Governors Island. Barth was
right glad to se me, and narrated how that his anticipatory wedlock thoughts had ended,
and for good reason.  Very busy was he, as a band-master lay above, sick into death.
Livers and Creesey called, both staying a little space.   At about midnight, just as I had               
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