ime to study was not consistent with the
pecuniary circumstances and the physical condition of the mother, who,
being a confirmed invalid, was able to take little part in the
ordinary family labors. Lucretia's parents, however, did not concur in
this opinion, and carefully concealed it from her; but she in some
manner became aware of its existence, and voluntarily acted in
accordance with it. The real feeling which prompted this conduct was
artlessly made apparent by the incident which led her to return to her
favorite occupation. When she was about twelve, she attended her
father to a "birth-night" ball. The next day, an elder sister found
her absorbed in composition. "She had sketched an urn, and written two
stanzas under it. She was persuaded to show them to her mother. She
brought them blushing and trembling. Her mother was ill, in bed; but
she expressed her delight with such unequivocal animation, that the
child's face changed from doubt to rapture, and she seized the paper,
ran away, and immediately added the concluding stanzas. When they were
finished, her mother pressed her to her bosom, wept with delight, and
promised her all the aid and encouragement she could give her. The
sensitive child burst into tears. 'And do you wish me to write, mamma?
and will papa approve? and will it be right that I should do so?'" The
following are the verses:--

"And does a hero's dust lie here?
Columbia, gaze, and drop a tear:
His country's and the orphan's friend,
See thousands o'er his ashes bend.

Among the heroes of the age,
He was the warrior and the sage;
He left a train of glory bright,
Which never will be hid in night.

The toils of war and danger past,
He reaps a rich reward at last;
His pure soul mounts on cherub's wings,
And now with saints and angels sings.

The brightest on the list of Fame,
In golden letters shines his name;
Her trump shall sound it through the world,
And the striped banner ne'er be furled.

And every sex, and every age,
From lisping boy to learned sage,
The widow, and her orphan son,
Revere the name of Washington!"

A literary friend, to whom these verses were shown, felt some doubts
as to Lucretia's being the real author of the stanzas, and suffered
them to appear. The feeling that her rectitude was impeached made the
sensitive girl actually ill; but a poetic remonstrance, which she
prepared on the occasion, removed every doubt.

From what ha