Summary

Various Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXXV, No…

Crayford told me you were. Did I not meet you one day in Chestnut street?” asked Florence.
A faint color tinged the cheek of Effie, and her beautiful eyes drooped low as she answered,
“You did—too well do I remember it—you looking so happy, and I so sad! Yes, I saw you point me out to Belmont.”
“Belmont! I know no such person,” said Florence, “it was Mr. Crayford who was with me—it was Mr. Crayford who told me you were a fortune-teller.”
“Did he—did he tell you so?” said Effie, bursting into tears, “for, alas! young lady, it was Belmont—it was my husband you were walking with!”
Source: Gutenberg

Various Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXXV, No…

Under God, all the progress that liberty has made since that hour, here or abroad, may be traced to the resolution adopted in that council of war! That we are a free people; that our wide-spread territories are filled with prosperity and happiness; that the United States is looked to by the whole world as the Mecca of the oppressed; and that every breeze that blows from Europe brings sounds of falling thrones, and nations breaking the chains which have galled them for centuries—we owe to the determination of that little assembly to sustain their commander-in-chief.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXXV, No…

My dearest Mother,—Were it not for the domestic happiness I have witnessed at home, I should begin to believe that no literary man ought ever to marry. When I remember your anecdotes of the mischievous pranks of little Madison Daley, and then look at his immovable face, I can scarcely believe that he is the same individual. His soul, during the last seven years, must have as completely changed as the elements of that stiff-knit frame, which day and night is bent over some ponderous volume, for not an atom of playfulness or bonhommie now enters into his composition.
Source: Gutenberg

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