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He had a brother, next younger than himself, named
Plymoth Bell Woodruff-, who also went to Foster & Teague-;
a fine handsome fellow; but he ran a more dissipated career
than Milford -- he was stabbed to death in a drunken brawl in
the town of Marion, Ala. I must insert here, on account of
some of my sweetheart experiences in Tuscaloosa -- My first
was one of fun two of the girls -- Helen Somerville and
Harriet Wallace-, bright, sweet girls-; towards whom my heart
was quite tender, thought to have some fun with me -- They
made up a large boquet, and wrote a lot of love sick verses --
which they fastened to the flowers, and threw them over for
my discovery, into the little private yard belonging to the
family department -- I found them-; and was entranced-; they
signed the name "Mary Percival" to the lines; I never kept a
copy of them-; but they worked upon my tender sensibilities
prodigiously. I felt, in duty bound, to make a return in kind,
as suitable as possible. I agonized over some verses, of which
I remember the first -- miserable doggerel-; but it suited the
occasion very well --

[left column]
Were mine the gift of poesy,
I'd have answered long ago,
The poetry you wrote to me,
Miss Percival, you know --
But the muses vain,
Did all combine,
'Gainst my poor luckless brain & past
&c. &c.

[right column]
- In 1848 as I passed through
Tuscaloosa, quite au fait in
ladies society, I called on
Miss Harriet Wallace, grown to
be a lovely lady, and we laughed
over this little passage in the
past
-- She died -- Alas -- early of

consumption -- I do not remember what was the History of Miss