I believe the management of the paper apologized privately for the
stupid insult, ascribing the sub-editorial to one of the juniors, and
expressing regret that it should have been inadvertently printed. All
the same, Thurlow Weed never wrote another editorial, the untoward
incident putting an end to the labor of a long and arduous journalistic
career.

Across the way from Mr. Weed's residence in the Old Colonie was the Van
Antwerp house, bearing the date 1640 in iron figures at the peak of the
gable which fronted the street. It was built of yellow brick--or at
least the gable front was so built--and the Van Antwerp legend was that
these bricks were imported from Antwerp, the native town of their
family. The last descendant was Juferouw Cornelia Van Antwerp who kept a
little school in the basement of her dwelling, the family fortune having
dwindled until this home was about the only property left to the
Juferouw. In this school my sister Althea and I were taught the three
R's and not much else. The ancient Dutch spinster was a lady, well-bred,
dignified and courteous, who held a high place in the elect circle or
Old Colonie society, and was not the less esteemed because of her
straitened circumstances. Her walk and conversation were no doubt
edifying, but the curriculum of her scholastic institute possibly left
something to be desired in the departments of higher education. She had
one available qualification for her position, however,--being an expert
in making and mending quill pens. She spent much of her time during
school hours in shaping these writing instruments, and I imagine she
eked out her slender income by supplying pens to the neighbors.

The public schools were, in those days, looked upon as public charities,
and these were not attended by children whose parents or guardians could