them into the kitchen fire.

This incident, so prettily related, illustrates the intensity of her
friendships, shows that she had begun to write verses when a mere child,
and gives a very pleasant glimpse of her father and of her devotion to
him.

My intimate acquaintance with her commenced in 1832, when we were
members of Miss Tyler's Sabbath-school class. Miss Tyler was a daughter
of Rev. Dr. Bennett Tyler, her father's successor. She was greatly
pleased when I told her I was going to attend her sister's school, which
was opened in the spring of 1833, on the corner of Middle and Lime
streets. My seat was next to hers and we were placed in the same
classes. Our homes were near each other on Franklin street, and we
always walked back and forth together. She was at this time a prolific
writer of notes. Sometimes she would meet me on Monday morning with not
less than four, written since we had parted on Saturday afternoon. She
used to complain now and then, that I wrote her only one to four or five
of hers to me. In the pleasant summer afternoons we loved to take long
walks together. One was down by the shore behind the eastern promenade.
Here we would find a sheltered nook, and with our backs to the world
and our faces toward the islands and the ocean, would sit in "rapt
enjoyment" of the scene, speaking scarcely a word, until one or the
other exclaimed with a long-drawn sigh: "Well, it is time for us to go
home."

Another of our places of resort was the old cemetery on Congress street,
which in those days was very retired. Our favorite spot here was the
summit of a tomb, which stood on the highest point in the grounds. It
was the old style of tomb--a broad marble slab, supported by six small