On looking back over the pages of the "Diary" it appears to me that some sort of an amende honorable is due to those citizens now living, and the relatives and friends of those now dead, whose names have appeared in the "Diary" and who have, so to speak, been handled without gloves. That I have been neither mobbed, nor horsewhipped, nor sued, nor prosecuted, but that I have enjoyed many a good laugh with—and have received many pleasant words from—the victims, and their friends, is good evidence that they, and their more fortunate brothers who have not been therein mentioned, have taken the "Diary" in the very spirit in which it was published, that of affectionate and amusing retrospect. And it is indeed with affection that I recall those men, at that time in their prime. That I could not then understand the reason why they did not fully enter into and appreciate the spirit that prompted me and my boon companions to transgress so many rules, laws, and statutes is not surprising. Boys seldom can understand it. But, although I now fully appreciate it, I often wonder at the spirit that prompted so many of those men in after years to show me so many kindnesses, so much encouragement, and such great forbearance.
So many inquiries have been made of me about that cornet, the soul-filling ambition of my early years, that I feel that the uncertainty in regard to that delightful instrument ought to be cleared up. I never did save up enough money to buy a cornet. I haven't to this day. But many years afterwards, when my ambition had been turned into other and equally profitless channels, upon the death of a dear friend his beautiful cornet was sent me. I have it now, as the neighbors and the members of my family can testify fully and with deep feeling, if called upon.
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