the broken wall, from my investigations among the dilapidated stones and unmarked mounds, I was accosted by a pleasant faced young fellow who had been watching me, and who thought I might be searching for some rare botanical specimen.
He assured me there was nothing but the commonest weeds and plants in the yard.
When I explained that I was simply trying to locate a grave his curiosity suddenly cooled.
Later I formed a closer acquaintance with him. You of a later generation know him as Nat Bishop, who later, as a man, brought honor upon himself and his native town as an explorer and naturalist.
His home at that time was on Salem street, and very near this spot.
I recall his taking me there once or twice, and of meeting his mother, who impressed me as a superior woman.
A vague and altogether uncertain memory connects the Bishops with T. P. Smith.
Both were property holders on the street, and I think their estates joined.
It was now one o'clock. I had eaten nothing since seven