as it may seem, his death! For then, to use her own expression,
"she would know the worst." Poor fellow! the last time I saw
him he was nearing the end. In an underground room I sat by his
bedside, and a poor bed it was!

As he lay propped up by pillows he was working away at his
beloved chess, writing chess notes, and solving and explaining
problems for very miserable payments,

I knew the poverty of that underground room; and was made
acquainted with the intense disappointment of both husband and
wife when letters were received that did not contain the much-
desired postal orders. And so passed a genius; but a
dipsomaniac! A man of brilliant parts and a fellow of infinite
jest, who never did justice to his great powers, but who crowded
a continuous succession of tragedies into a short life. I am
glad to think that I did my best for him, even though I failed.
He has gone! but he still has a place in my affections and
occupies a niche in the hall of my memory.

I very much doubt whether I am able to forget any one of the
pieces of broken humanity that have companied with me. I do not
want to forget them, for truth to tell they have been more
interesting to me than merely respectable people, and infinitely
more interesting than some good people.

But I am afraid that my tastes are bad, and my ideals low, for I
am always happier among the very poor or the outcasts than I am
with the decent and well behaved.