xious that his nieces should be
well instructed in practical matters, and perhaps he grudged a little
the extra time which we were accustomed to devote to books and music. He
was fond of sending materials for dresses to me and my sisters, but
insisted that we should make them up for ourselves. This we managed to
do, with a good deal of help from the family seamstress. When I had
published my first literary venture, uncle John showed me in a newspaper
a favorable notice of my work, saying, "This is my little girl who knows
about books, and writes an article and has it printed, but I wish that
she knew more about housekeeping,"--a sentiment which in after years I
had occasion to echo with fervor.

CHAPTER II

LITERARY NEW YORK

Although the New York of my youth had little claim to be recognized as a
literary centre, it yet was a city whose tastes and manners were much
influenced by people of culture. One of these, Robert Sands, was the
author of a poem entitled "Yamoyden," its theme being an Indian story or
legend. His family dated back to the Sands who once owned a considerable
part of Block Island, and from whom Sands Point takes its name. If I do
not mistake, these Sands were connected by marriage with one of my
ancestors, who were also settlers in Block Island. I remember having
seen the poet Sands in my childhood, a rather awkward, near-sighted man.
His life was not a long one. A sister of his, Julia Sands, wrote a
biographical sketch of her brother, and was spoken of as a literary
woman.

William Cullen Bryant resided in New York many years. He took a
prominent part in politics, but mingled little in general society, being
much absorbed in his duties as editor of the "Evening Post," of which he
was also the founder.

I first heard of Fitz-Greene Halleck as the author of various satirical
pieces of verse relating to personages and events of nearly eighty years
ago. He is now best remembered by his "Marco Bozzaris," a noble lyric
which we have heard quoted in view of recent lamentable encounters
between Greek and Barbarian.

Among the lecturers who visited New York, I remember Professor Silliman
of Yale College, Dr. Follen, who spoke of German literature, George
Combe, and Mr. Charles Lyell.

Charles King, for many years editor of a daily paper entitled "The New
York American," was a man of much literary taste. He had been a pupil at
Harrow when Byron was there. He was an appreciative friend of my fat