When I found it impossible to write regularly for Mr.Ford, he made a change for the better, securing Mr.Hezekiah Butterworth, a poet, historian, and author of the _Zigzag Series_, which had such large sales.

Happening to be in Boston, I called at the office and said to Mr.Ford: "It grieves me a bit to see my column taken by someone else, and what a strange pen name--'Hezekiah Butterworth.'" "But that is his own name," said the editor.
"Indeed; I am afraid I shall hate that Hezzy." "Well, just try it; come with me to his work-room." When we had gone up one flight, Mr.Ford opened a door, where a gentle, sweet-faced young man of slender build was sitting at a table, the floor all around him literally strewn with at least three hundred manuscripts, each one to be examined as a possible winner in a contest for a five-hundred-dollar prize story.

Both English and American authors had competed.

He was, as De Quincey put it, "snowed up." Then my friend said with a laugh, "Miss Sanborn has come to see Hezzy whom she fancies she shall hate." A painfully awkward introduction, but Mr.
Butterworth laughed heartily, and made me very welcome, and from that time was ever one of my most faithful friends, honouring my large Thanksgiving parties by his presence for many years.
I shall tell but two stories about my father in his classroom.

He had given Pope's _Rape of the Lock_ as subject for an essay to a young man who had not the advantage of being born educated, but did his best at all times.