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Writes to his wife from Boston about a bonnet. Goes to Washington, D.C. Paints large picture of House of Representatives. Artistic but not financial success. Donates five hundred dollars to Yale. Letter from Mr. De Forest. New York "Observer." Discouragements. First son born. Invents marble-carving machine. Goes to Albany. Stephen Van Rensselaer. Slight encouragement in Albany. Longing for a home.
In 1815, Frederick Bornt moved on the farm now owned and occupied by his son, on the Oneonta Creek. He had been a soldier in the war of 1812 and had served at the battle of Plattsburg. He came from Rensselaer county, N.Y.
I understood he heard you sing there, and it was because of it that he wanted to send you abroad to study." "If it be Mr. van Rensselaer who has been so kind to me, I do not know it," Katrine answered, in no small degree annoyed by this enforced intimacy. "I have never seen him nor heard his name before in my life." If Mrs.
"If she said it was not Mr. van Rensselaer, as a dutiful son I am bound to believe it, am I not?" "Doubtless," Anne answered, smiling. "By-the-way, Madame de Nemours has left with me an invitation for you to dine with her on Friday." "Shall we hear Miss Dulany sing, do you suppose?" Frank asked, quietly, unimportantly. "I don't know. She has never dined with us when I have been there.
"This little old house at Salem was haunted," resumed Uncle Larry. "And by a very distinguished ghost or at least by a ghost with very remarkable attributes." "What was he like?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with a premonitory shiver of anticipatory delight. "It had a lot of peculiarities. In the first place, it never appeared to the master of the house.
He walked briskly to the hotel; he found Miss Sutton alone. He asked her the question, and got his answer." "She accepted him, of course?" said Baby Van Rensselaer. "Of course," said Uncle Larry. "And while they were in the first flush of joy, swapping confidences and confessions, her brother came into the parlor with an expression of pain on his face and a telegram in his hand.
A still better example of this American way of dealing with legend and mystery is the marvelous tale of the rival ghosts." "The rival ghosts?" queried the Duchess and Baby Van Rensselaer together. "Who were they?" "Didn't I ever tell you about them?" answered Uncle Larry, a gleam of approaching joy flashing from his eye.
General Van Rensselaer recrossed the river and assumed command, but hastening back to urge forward re-enforcements, the command fell to General Decius Wadsworth, who, however, did not assume to control the movements. Two light batteries from the Canada shore played on the boats attempting to cross, and there was no artillery with which the Americans could resist.
The northwestern army at this time consisted of about ten thousand troops. General Henry Dearborn held command near Plattsburg and Greenbush, and was the commanding officer of all the forces on the northern frontier. A portion of his army was camped at Lewistown under the command of General Stephen Van Rensselaer, of New York.
"That's an argument in favor of cremation, at any rate," replied Dear Jones, evading the direct question. "It is, if you don't like ghosts. I do," said Baby Van Rensselaer. "And so do I," added Uncle Larry. "I love a ghost as dearly as an Englishman loves a lord." "Go on with your story," said the Duchess, majestically overruling all extraneous discussion.
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