Finally I ventured upon a trip to Louisville, Ky., and, while it was my
first introduction to that place, so cordially was I received by its
citizens, so much was done to place me at ease, that I could but feel that
I was revisiting a familiar spot and receiving the greetings of old-time
friends; and, in spite of the heavy war pressure, it was financially the
most successful visit I ever made, having sold five hundred volumes in
the short space of two weeks, a fact in itself sufficient to exemplify the
pervading spirit of its society, not one of whose members gave grudgingly,
but with unhesitating and cheerful alacrity.

Thence I repaired to the "Blue Grass Country," the garden spot of
Kentucky, and to the city of Lexington, the reputation of whose beautiful
women has reached from sea to sea and from pole to pole, and the name of
whose hero, Henry Clay, has made the heart of our nation throb with
exultant pride. I was also a stranger there, yet I resolutely repaired to
the Broadway, its principal hotel, trusting to the hospitality of its
citizens. Nor did I "count without a host," for Mr. Lindsey, the
proprietor, received me with courtly cordiality, installing us in an
elegant suite of rooms upon the parlor floor, assigning us a servant in
constant attendance, and urging us to feel at home. At breakfast the
succeeding morning he greeted us with the pleasant tidings that he had
already sold sixteen volumes of my book, after which he came to our
apartment with a huge market basket, which he insisted upon filling with
books, adding that _I_ was too delicate to go out with them myself. This
was a second time filled and emptied, and before dinner there was placed
in my hands the proceeds of the sale of one hundred books.

My companion, amazed at his success, begged of him to let her know the
secret, whereupon he said, laughingly: "Well, you see, I am a Democrat and