LIFE SKETCH. 29 



north as Morristown, I did a fair business; but my ex- 

 penses were necessarily large, so that the amount 

 which stuck to my fingers was not great. Thinking I 

 could do better in another field, I made a jump, as it 

 were, to Brewster, N. Y., passing rapidly over about 

 200 miles and through a large number of places in 

 four days, without giving an exhibition. My father 

 went ahead to Dover, at which place he felt compelled, 

 by failing strength, to give up travelling and to re- 

 turn to his home. I also had discovered that it was 

 hard work to do enough to pay expenses of horses 

 and men on the road; and, after a long consultation, 

 concluded to give up travelling with horses and go 

 entirely by rail. My father was to take all the ani- 

 mals with him to Vermont; and on the morrow there 

 was a sorrowful adieu, for I could but feel that this 

 would be the last time I would ever see him, and I 

 think he thought so, too. Shaking him affectionately 

 by the hand, I turned away with eyes filled with tears, 

 to give my Topsy a farewell caress, and, I am not 

 ashamed to say, a farewell hug around her neck. And 

 thus we parted, never again to meet on earth. Soon 

 after reaching home, my father had another attack 

 similar to the one he had while crossing the mountains 

 in Pennsylvania, and he was laid quietly away before 

 I even heard of his departure. 



CONNECTICUT AND EASTERN NEW JERSEY. 



I had become much attached to my faithful and in- 

 telligent mare, Topsy. For a long time I had been 

 using her entirely without reins, and she obeyed my 

 every word and movement. We had learned to rely 

 implicitly upon each other, while with me nothing 

 was too good for her, and it was evident she fully ap- 

 preciated my kindness. Mr. Newland and myself 



