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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 172 [02-13-1861]

              161
	      I leave Charleston.
might never meet again.    Accidentally mention-
ing in the course of the day, that the fifteenth was
my birth day, he bade me recollect, that
he would drink a glass of champagne to my health,
precisely at noon � laying stress on it.    And so
farewell to him, and a fair sample of his state,
which I shall never be able to think unkindly
of; and do veritably believe that, but for that
one damned institution, it would produce as noble
a race of men as any that this continent can
produce � if not nobler.   Packing up, scribbling
off note to W. Waud and to Ramsay (in
case of his return), until 1 �, then to bed.
  14.  Thursday.  Up by 6 � and in two
hours time was overtaken by the coach, as I
walked down the cool, sunny street, and con-
veyed to the wharf, where the �James Adger�
lay on the eve of departure.        Aboard I found
an ex-Charleston Hotel waiter, an Irishman
named Courtenay, bound for the North, who
professed dislike to the Carolinians, on the ground
that �they cared a dale more for a nagur than
for a poor white man.�    From him I got most
of the information relative to the domestic eco-
nomy of the hotel introduced into the latter
portion of the preceding volume of this Diary,               
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