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                          A. C. Hills.
supplied editorials to the Post.   He had read
more than the average of newspaper men and
loved Tennyson; he could repeat passages
from his poetry of some length.  He was a
lewd person, a frequenter of New York brothels
and a great friend of Stedman�s, though
he could not approach that individual in un-
utterable baseness.    Both of them had a story
about their taking poor little Boweryem to a
brothel and leaving him there, having pur-
loined his clothes, so that he was obliged to 
return to the Unitary Home very early one
Sunday morning in a dressing-gown, without
trousers.    What I heard from the little man
rather confirmed it.       Hills delighted in
talking of himself, like most Americans, had
indeed a hard, material selfishness at the root
of his nature very unloveable.   Yet he was
appreciative of excellence in others and not
illiberal.         A man more constantly on the
look-out as regarded his own profit and
advancement I have never known.  
In popular phrase he was always �on the
make.�         I had met A. G. Hills, al-
most his namesake, at the Astor House, in
attendance on Gen. Banks, and was rather 
prepossessed in his favor.   A good looking, fair-
haired, fair bearded Bostonian, got up in