CHAPTER VIII.

A wandering Poet.—The two Wives.

Ve7'mont, Thursday.—*" Do come to the window !"
exclaimed M— this morning; " here is the poet."
She had told me aU about him before, as it
seems he is a constant visitor and prime pet here.
No wonder, for I have seldom met wdth a more
entertaining and original character, than this
thoroughly Irish and romantic old man. He is
truly a " born poet." All his expressions are
poetical—^he talks of common events in an Ossian-
like style, and occasionaUy bursts out into rhyme.
He leads a wUd rambling Hfe, "here to-day,
gone to-morrow, like the bird that cuts the air