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 of how a man’s peace of mind was shattered and a woman’s life embittered because the man, in the innocence of his heart, wanted his friends to think him a poet. And the text of this tale may very well be that justly famous couplet:

So to the story.

In the early sixties of the last century, there dwelt in the pleasant town of Elizabeth, New Jersey, a prosperous and respected harness-maker by the name of Alexander M. W. Ball. He was a devoted husband and father, something of a personage since he had made the long voyage to California and back a few years before, well thought of by his neighbors, and possessed of enough political influence to secure an election to the New Jersey legislature.

But the thing of which he was proudest was his reputation as a poet. He was always polishing off some verses, working over them much harder than he did over his harness, and nothing pleased him more than an opportunity to read them to his friends. These opportunities were numerous, since he always had some of his verses in his pocket or lying on his desk, and his friends never failed to be impressed. But if they solicited a copy, he would explain that the verses