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MOTHERNOOK. THE EASTERN SHORE OF MARYLAND. One day, worn out with head and pen,And the debate of public men,I said aloud, "Oh! if there wereSome place to make me young awhile,I would go there, I would go there,And if it were a many a mile!"Then something cried—perhaps my map,That not in vain I oft invoke—"Go seek again your mother's lap,The dear old soil that gave you sap,And see the land of Pocomoke!" A sense of shame that never... more...

INTRODUCTION. Once the author awoke to a painful reflection that he knew no place well, though his occupation had taken him to many, and that, after twenty-five years of describing localities and society, he would be identified with none. "Where shall I begin to rove within confines?" he asked, feeling the vacant spaces in his nature: the want of all those birds, forest trees, household habits, weeds, instincts of the brooks, and tints and... more...

THE EXILES. In the latter part of October, 1863, seven very anxious and dilapidated personages were assembled under the roof of an old, eight-storied tenement, near the church of St. Sulpice, in the city of Paris. The seven under consideration had reached the catastrophe of their decline—and rise. They had met in solemn deliberation to pass resolutions to that effect, and take the only congenial means for replenishment and reform. This... more...

LETTER I. THE MURDER. Washington, April 17. Some very deliberate and extraordinary movements were made by a handsome and extremely well-dressed young man in the city of Washington last Friday. At about half-past eleven o'clock A. M., this person, whose name is J. Wilkes Booth, by profession an actor, and recently engaged in oil speculations, sauntered into Ford's Theater, on Tenth, between E and F streets, and exchanged greetings with the man... more...

CHAPTER 1. MY IMPRESSMENT. "Here is a piece of James Franklin's printing press, Mr. Townsend," said Mr. Pratt to me, at Newport the other day,—"Ben. Franklin wrote for the paper, and set type upon it. The press was imported from England in 1730, or thereabouts." He produced a piece of wood, a foot in length, and then laid it away in its drawer very sacredly. "I should like to write to that press, Mr. Pratt," I said,—"there would... more...