Roundjacket's house was a handsome little cottage, embowered in trees,
on the far western outskirts of the town. Here the poet lived in
bachelor freedom, and with a degree of comfort which might have
induced any other man to be satisfied with his condition. We know,
from his own assertion, that Roundjacket was not;--he had an excellent
little house, a beautiful garden, every comfort which an ample
"estate" could bring him, but he had no wife. That was the one thing
needful.
Verty dismounted, and admiring the beautiful sward, the well tended
flowers, and the graceful appendages of the mansion--from the bronze
knocker, with Minerva's head upon it, to the slight and comfortable
wicker smoking-chairs upon the porch--opened the little gate, and
knocked.
An old negro woman, who superintended, with the assistance of her
equally aged husband, this bachelor paradise, appeared at the door;
and hearing Verty's request of audience, was going to prefer it to Mr.
Roundjacket.
This was rendered unnecessary, however, by the gentleman himself.
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