Among them was Thomas Green Davidson, a distinguished member of
Congress, (still living, and long may he live!) Robert Hale, and
myself. Ridicule was Marigny's _forte_. Upon the meeting of the House,
and before its organization for business, one morning, the writer, at
his desk, was approached by Alexander Barrow, a member--and who
afterward died a member of the United States Senate--who read to me a
squib which Marigny was reading, at the same moment, to a group about
him. It read thus:
"Sparks, and Thomas Green Davidson,
Rascals by nature and profession:
Dey can bos go to hell
Wid Colonel Bob Hailles."
I saw that the group would, with Marigny, soon approach me, and made
haste to reply. It was only a day or two before we were to adjourn.
When they came, and the squib was read, I read the following reply:
"Dear Marigny, we're soon to part,
So let that parting be in peace:
We've not been angered much in heart,
But e'en that little soon shall cease.
"When you are sleeping with the dead,
The spars we've had I'll not forget:
A warmer heart, or weaker head,
On earth, I'll own, I never met.
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