the settlers around, and from that day forward became a celebrated
character.

I was subsequently told on board the canal packet, that the Indian
referred to, was not the notorious chief of that name, but a second-rate
warrior, who, having headed a band of marauders, ***med the soubriquet.
How far this may be the fact, I cannot determine. I, however,
frequently heard Poe's name mentioned as a brave defender of the
hearths and homes of the early settlers in the remote districts of Ohio.

I could perceive that his son's wife (a matronly dame of about sixty),
was adverse to such interviews, as, to use her expression, "they brought
the old man back to this world again, when he should be pondering on the
next," and that she was grieved at the recital of them; indeed, she
several times checked his expressions, when they bordered, as they not
unfrequently did, on impiety. She acted rightly, for there was evidently
much more of the soldier than the Christian about the old man, and
before we left I expressed a hope that such visits would be discouraged,
a suggestion that was received in a kindly spirit.

After inspecting the farm, which was well stocked, and appeared to be
cultivated in the most approved modern style, and was well fenced with
the usual rails, we started on our return to Zoar, where the packet had
halted. On our way thither, we passed through a hamlet of primitive
appearance, consisting of some half-dozen houses built of logs, at one
end of which was a rudely-constructed meeting-house, belonging to the
sect of Whitfieldite Methodists. The congregation was assembled, and the
horses and vehicles belonging to those who resided at a distance, were
tethered and my companion passed, the occupants were chanting a hymn
previous to the discourse, which it appeared was a valedictory one, the