short distance from the home of the Clemms, and who, when the frosts
of years had descended upon her, denied having been engaged to
him--apparently because her elders were more discreet than she
was--but admitted that she cried when she heard of his death.

In his attic room on Wilks Street he toiled over the poems and tales
that some time would bring him fame.

Poe was living in Amity Street when he won the hundred-dollar prize
offered by the _Saturday Visitor_, with his "Manuscript Found in a
Bottle," and wrote his poem of "The Coliseum," which failed of a prize
merely because the plan did not admit of making two awards to the same
person. A better reward for his work was an engagement as assistant
editor of the _Southern Literary Messenger_, which led to his removal
to Richmond.

The _Messenger_ was in a building at Fifteenth and Main Streets, in
the second story of which Mr. White, the editor, and Poe, had their
offices. The young assistant soon became sole editor of the
publication, and it was in this capacity that he entered upon the
critical work which was destined to bring him effective enemies to
assail his reputation, both literary and personal, when the grave had
intervened to prevent any response to their slanders. Not but that he
praised oftener than he censured, but the thorn of censure pricks
deeply, and the rose of praise but gently diffuses its fragrance to be
wafted away on the passing breeze. The sharp satire attracted
attention to the _Messenger_, as attested by the rapid growth of the
subscription list.

Here Poe was surrounded by memories of his childhood. The building was