exclaiming, as he entered the parlor, “Will you receive an old rebel?” He was welcomed with open arms, and the two friends sat late that night talking over the exciting events that had taken place since they last met. Mr. McCarter wore a suit of rather rough-looking cloth, and, turning to his hostess, remarked, “You may not think I am very elegantly dressed, Mrs. Carter, but perhaps you may have more respect for my garments when I tell you that this suit I have on cost me six hundred dollars.” This little visit was greatly enjoyed by both friends, and they tacitly agreed to differ on topics on which they took entirely opposite views. The quiet games of chess over which they spent an hour each evening formed the only battle-ground between the two. One of Mr. Carter’s dearest friends was Mrs. Sarah A. Brown, who for many years kept a young ladies’ boarding school in New York. She had been associated with him in the High School, being principal of the girls’ department, and the friendship then formed was sustained through life. She was a woman of fine intellect and very lovely character. At the time of the riots, in 1863, she was living on the corner of Twenty-Third Street and Seventh Avenue. Looking from her window, she saw several colored women, with children, chased along the avenue by a mob. She went out on her steps and beckoned the poor creatures in, promising all the protection in her power. The mob surrounded the house, threatening to set fire to it if she did not give up the Negroes. Again she went out on her door-step, and addressed the rioters, saying that she felt that she could not die in a better cause than defending the oppressed, and that she never would give up these defenceless creatures. The noble words and dignified bearing of the stately, beautiful old lady, who counted
