Then he went on and read the
report of the interview:

"A 'Tattler' reporter visited yesterday the great proprietor of
Sevenoaks, Colonel Robert Belcher, at his splendid mansion on Fifth
Avenue. That gentleman had evidently just swallowed his breakfast, and
was comforting himself over the report he had read in the 'Tattler' of
that morning, by inhaling the fragrance of one of his choice Havanas. He
is evidently a devotee of the seductive weed, and knows a good article
when he sees it. A copy of the 'Tattler' lay on the table, which bore
unmistakable evidences of having been spitefully crushed in the hand.
The iron had evidently entered the Colonel's righteous soul, and the
reporter, having first declined the cup of coffee hospitably tendered to
him and accepted (as he always does when he gets a chance) a cigar,
proceeded at once to business.

"_Reporter_: Col. Belcher, have you seen the report in this morning's
'Tattler' of the riot at Sevenoaks, which nominally had your dealings
with the people for its occasion?

"_Answer_: I have, and a pretty mess was made of it.

"_Reporter:_ Do you declare the report to be incorrect?

"_Answer:_ I know nothing about the correctness or the incorrectness of
the report, for I was not there.

"_Reporter:_ Were the accusations made against yourself correct,
presuming that they were fairly and truthfully reported?

"_Answer:_ They were so far from being correct that nothing could be
more untruthful or more malicious.

"_Reporter:_ Have you any objection to telling me the true state of the
case in detail?

"_Answer:_ None at all. Indeed, I have been so foully misrepresented,
that I am glad of an opportunity to place myself right before a people
with whom I have taken up my residence. In the first place, I made
Sevenoaks. I have fed the people of Sevenoaks for more than ten years. I
have carried the burden of their charities; kept their dirty ministers
from starving; furnished employment for their women and children, and
run the town. I had no society there, and of course, got tired of my
hum-drum life. I had worked hard, been successful, and felt that I owed
it to myself and my family to go somewhere and enjoy the privileges,
social and educational, which I had the means to command. I came to New
York without consulting anybody, and bought this house. The people
protested, but ended by holding a public meeting, and passing a series
of resolutions complimentary to me, of which