“Thank you,” said Case.
Bart was amused at these free sketches, especially as none but good feeling prevailed, and remarked, “that it was fortunate for him that no acquaintance of his was present, who could do him justice.”
He walked up to the large and well-filled book-cases, and mused about. “My brother wrote and told me so much of all this that I thought I was familiar with it,” he said at last.
“He used to sit in that corner, by the table, with his back to the window,” said Kennedy, pointing to a place in the back room, which Bart approached. “He was usually the first here in the morning and the last to go at night, and then often took a book with him.”
“We liked him very much,” said Ransom, “and we forwarded to you a set of resolutions on hearing of his death.”
“I received them,” replied Bart, “and if I did not acknowledge it, I owe you an apology.”
“You did, to Ranney,” said Case.
The memory of his brother, who had read and worked, talked and laughed, mused and hoped in that little nook, came up very fresh to Barton.
Case proposed that they take a stroll, or a “string” as he called it, about the village, and as they walked in single file on the narrow sidewalks, the idea of “string” seemed to be realized. They went into the Court House and up into the court-room, and down into the Recorder’s office, filled with books, and introduced Bart to Ben Graylord, the Recorder, who showed him a record-book written by his brother, every page of which sparkled with the beauty of the writing. Then they went to the clerk’s office of Col. Hendry, with its stuffed pigeon-holes, and books, and into the sheriff’s office, and to divers other places.
Jefferson was about eleven or twelve miles from the lake, south of Ashtabula. It was selected as the county seat, and at once became the residence of the county officers, and of many wealthy and influential citizens, but never became a place of much business, while Ashtabula and Conneaut were already busy towns. Each lay at the mouth of a considerable creek, whose names they respectively bore, and which formed harbors for the lake commerce, and were both visited daily by the steamers that run up and down Lake Erie. These facts were communicated to Bart, as they walked about, and the residences of Mr. Giddings, Judge Warren, Colonel Hendry, Mr. St. John, and others, were pointed out to him.
That evening, Case and Bart went in rather late to supper at the Jefferson House, and Case pointed out B.P. Wade sitting at the head of one of the tables. Bart studied him closely.