He possessed considerable capacity for poetry, although I do not know that he cultivated it much after he left college.

He delivered a very successful poem at Commencement, and gave the Phi Beta Kappa poem the next year and read some very witty verses at the Society's dinner the same day.

He was much distressed over choosing a subject, and put off and put off writing his poem till within a few days of the time when it was to be delivered.

And he finally resolved, in a fit of desperation, that he would go into his room, shut his eyes, turn round three times and take for his subject the first object on which they rested when he opened them.

That happened to be a horseshoe which he had picked up in the street and hung over his fireplace for luck.