The young man was not rooming at our house, but coming into town quite late, planned to lodge with a friend there.

He threw gravel at this young man's window in the third story to waken him, and failing thought at last he would try the door, and if not locked he would creep up, and disturb no one.

But "Miss Sanborn knocked a man all the way downstairs" was duly announced.

I then realized my awful mistake, and didn't care to appear on the street for some time except in recitation hours.
The second time I lectured in Burlington, I was delayed nearly half an hour at that dreadful Junction, about which place Professor Edward J.
Phelps, afterwards Minister to England, wrote a fierce rhyme to relieve his rage at being compelled to waste so much precious time there.

I recall only two revengeful lines: "I hope in hell his soul may dwell, Who first invented Essex Junction." Oh, yes, I do remember his idea that the cemetery near the station contained the bodies of many weary ones who had died just before help came and were shovelled over.
It happened that Mrs.Underwood, wife of the demented governor, who had alluded so truthfully to my lecture, was in the audience, and being gifted with genuine clairvoyant powers, she rose and begged the audience not to disperse, as she could distinctly see me pacing nervously up and down the platform at the Junction in a long sealskin coat and hat trimmed with band of fur.