friend, who treated me so badly in Paris. "Why, how do you do, Iangy?" he said, as I was passing his door, on my way to my lodgings. "Not dead yet, I thank you, sir!" was my reply, as I passed on, which was rather unbecoming in me, I must confess; for I had recently had serious thoughts of becoming a Christian, and with this intention had no right to harbor resentment, even toward my bitterest enemy.
All welcomed me kindly. My first patrons, the L—s, made me happy by their hospitable treatment, and their grandson, who had been my first little responsibility, had grown to be such a princely-looking little fellow that the royalty of England might have been proud to claim him for their own. I went every day to see my little King of the Butterflies, as I used to call him, and in so doing I was obliged always to pass the door of my little Versailles responsibility, who, with her gentle mother, were always dearly beloved objects to me. I grieved because I could not see them, every time I went to see my King of the Butterflies; but I only saw the little creature once when she cried after me as I passed the door, and I stopped and kissed her—for which she received a tumbler of water in her face, thrown by the interesting valet who lived with my gentleman in Paris.
After staying eight or ten days in Cincinnati, I heard of a gentleman going South, and as I always had an inclination to travel, and was particularly desirous of seeing the sunny South, I engaged with him and started for Memphis, having in my charge a little boy and girl. I was with them but a short time till they were quite attached to me, and I to them.
After a few days we reached Memphis, and went to
