mer is rarely to be found without his gun and
rod. It is his delight to tramp over miles of country in search of
game, or to sit quietly in some cozy nook, and, dropping his line into
the water, pass the hours in reveries broken only by the exertion
necessary to secure a finny prize.

Not long since his love of art led him to buy a panorama merely because
he admired it. He put it in charge of an agent in whom he knew he could
confide, and started it on a tour throughout the country. In a month or
two he received a gloomy letter from the agent, telling him that the
exhibition had failed to draw spectators, and that he despaired of its
ever paying expenses. "Never mind," wrote Jefferson in reply, "it will
be a gratification for those who do go to see it, and you may draw on me
for what money you need." The losses on the panorama, however, were so
great that Jefferson was compelled to abandon it.

Several years before the death of John Sefton, Jefferson paid him a
visit at his home in Paradise Valley, during one of his summer rambles.
Upon reaching Sefton's farm, he found the owner "with his breeches and
coat sleeves both rolled up, and standing in the middle of a clear and
shallow stream, where one could scarcely step without spoiling the
sports of the brook trout, which sparkled through the crystal waters.
Sefton stood in a crouching attitude, watching, with mingled
disappointment and good humor, a little pig which the stream was
carrying down its current, and which, pig-like, had slipped from the
hands of its owner in its natural aversion to being washed. Jefferson,
with the true instinct of an artist, dropped his fishing tackle and took
his sketch-book to transfer the ludicrous scene to paper. Sefton
appreciated the humor of the situation, and only objected when Jefferson
began to fill in the background with a dilapidated old barn, at which
the old gentleman demurred on account of its wretched appearance. The
artist insisted that it was picturesque, however, and proceeded to put
it down. Sefton had to submit; but he had his revenge, by writing back
to New York that 'Jefferson is here, drawing the worst "houses" I ever
saw.'"

In private life, Mr. Jefferson is a cultivated gentleman, and is
possessed of numbers of warm and devoted friends. He has been married
twice. The first Mrs. Jefferson was a Miss Lockyer, of New York, and by
her he had two children, a son and a daughter. The former is about
eighteen years of age