Incidental to this, and only incidental, is the following:  Shortly after I purchased my property, as I was very fond of calling my little farm, in Rensselaer County, I was in Albany one day when it occurred to me that I wanted a carpet for my parlor.  I went to the store of a well-known carpet-dealer, and asked to be shown some of his goods.  While I was going through the establishment I came across a man who was industriously sewing together the lengths of a cut carpet, and I recognized in him one of my fellow convicts at Windsor.  He, however, did not know me, and I doubt if he could have been convinced of my identity as the wretch who plied the broom in the halls of the prison.  To him, as he glanced at me, I was only a well-dressed gentleman whom the proprietor was courteously showing through the establishment in the hope of securing a good customer.  It was this little circumstance, I think-my chance meeting with my old fellow-prisoner, and my changed circumstances and appearance which put me beyond recognition by him-that prompted me to the somewhat brazen business that followed: 

“I only came in to look to-day,” I said to the carpet-dealer; “for the precise sum of money in my pocket at present is eighteen pence, and no more; but if you will cut me off forty yards of that piece of carpeting, and trust me for it, I will pay your bill in a few days, as sure as I live.”

My frank statement with regard to my finances seemed to attract the attention of the merchant who laughed and said: 

“Well, who are you, anyhow?  Where do you live?”

I told him that I was Doctor Blank; that I lived in Rensselaer county on a small place of my own; I raised fruit and vegetables for market; I cured cancers, dropsy, and other diseases when I could; sold medicines readily almost where I would; and was in Albany once or twice a week.

“Measure and cut off the carpet,” said he to the clerk who was following us, “and put it in the Doctor’s wagon”

The bill was about a hundred dollars, and I drove home with the carpet.  It was nearly six weeks afterwards when I went into the store again, and greeted the proprietor.  He had seen me but once before and had totally forgotten me.  I told him I was Doctor Blank, small farmer and large medical practitioner of Rensselaer County.

“The devil you are!  Why, you’re the man that bought a carpet of me a few weeks ago; I was wondering what had become of you.”

“I’m the man, and I must tell you that the carpet doesn’t look well; but never mind-here’s a hundred dollars, and I want you to receipt the bill.”

“Now,” said I, when he returned the bill to me receipted, “the carpet looks firstrate; I never saw a handsomer one in my life.”

“Well, you are an odd chap, any how,” said the carpet-dealer, laughing, and shaking me by the hand.  Almost from that moment we were more than mere acquaintances, we were fast friends.  In the course of the long conversation that followed, I told him of my trouble with the hardware man-how I had sold him the recipe; that he had failed, from ignorance to conduct the business properly, and had sued me for damages.