original, and hinted that they might have been copied. The child wept
at this suspicion, as if her heart would break; but as soon as she
recovered from that fit of indignant grief, she indited a remonstrance
to her aunt, in verse, which put an end to such incredulity.

We are told that, before she was twelve years of age, she had read most
of the standard English poets--a vague term, excluding, no doubt, much
that is of real worth, and including more that is worth little or
nothing, and yet implying a wholesome course of reading for such a mind.
Much history she had also read, both sacred and profane; "the whole
of Shakspeare's, Kotzebue's, and Goldsmith's dramatic works;" (oddly
consorted names!) "and many of the popular novels and romances of the
day:" of the latter, she threw aside at once those which at first sight
appeared worthless. This girl is said to have observed every thing:
"frequently she has been known to watch the storm, and the retiring
clouds, and the rainbow, and the setting sun, for hours."

An English reader is not prepared to hear of distress arising from
straitened circumstances in America--the land of promise, where there is
room enough for all, and employment for every body. Yet even in that new
country, man, it appears, is born not only to those ills which flesh is
heir to, but to those which are entailed upon him by the institutions of
society. Lucretia's mother was confined by illness to her room and bed
for many months; and this child, then about twelve years old, instead
of profiting under her mother's care, had in a certain degree to supply
her place in the business of the family, and to attend, which she did
dutifully and devotedly, to her sick bed. At this time, a gentleman who
had heard much of her verses, and expressed a wish to see some of them,
was so much gratified on perusing them, that he sent her a complimentary
note, enclosing a bank-bill for twenty dollars. The girl's first joyful