He was a universal favorite, even if he did hate catechism and love cake.
So mother's conscience was worked upon until she bound him to a cabinet maker in the city.

To him, the restraint was unendurable, and he ran away.

He came after dark to bid me good-bye, left love for mother and Elizabeth, and next morning left Pittsburg on a steamboat, going to that Eldorado of Pittsburg boys--"down the river." For some time letters came regularly from him, and he was happy and prosperous.

Then they ceased, and after two years of agonizing suspense, we heard that he had died of yellow fever in New Orleans.

To us, this was dreadful, irreparable, and was wholly due to that iron-bedstead piety which permits no natural growth, but sets down all human loves and longings as of Satanic origin.
Soon after our removal to the village, grandfather's estate was advertised for sheriff's sale.