"What is the price of that candelabra, in the window?" inquired the statesman.
"Six hundred dollars," replied the young man.
"Pack it up and send it to M——," replied my friend, turning to go.
"And the bill, sir?"
"You may send the bill to me—to D—— W——, at Washington."
I happened to know that the great man had, only within a day or two, been released, by the generosity of several of his personal friends, from an embargo upon his movements that would otherwise have prevented his eloquent thunder from being heard in the National Senate!
The massive head and stately bearing of John Marshall always rise before my mind's eye, when I recall this characteristic illustration of his native manliness:
The Chief Justice was in the habit of going to market himself, and carrying home his purchases. He might frequently be seen at sunrise, with poultry in one hand and vegetables in the other.
On one of these occasions, a young Northerner, who had recently removed to Richmond, and thus become a fellow-townsman of the great Virginian, was heard loudly complaining that no one could be found to carry home his turkey.