He went out to Putnam county in 1876, when he was sick, but he was soon glad to get back to the city. He said: “I was troubled with visitors, some of ’em well on to 100 years old. Some of them said I bought cattle from them when I was young, on credit, and they wanted their bills. I kept no books, and how was I to know I owed ’em for them critters? It was dull outen thar,” he continued, “and yer never can tell till the next day how ‘sheers’ is gone.” So Uncle Daniel came back and stopped at the Hoffman House, where he could have ready access to the ticker, and kept constantly posted on the price of stocks. His principal broker was Mr. David Groesbeck. The city still seemed to have certain fascinations for him that the country was unable to afford. He often spoke regretfully, in his latter days, of being too old to retrieve his fortune. He said he longed for rest. Nothing seemed to weigh more heavily upon his mind than his inability to carry out the plans connected with his religious endowments, and he grieved deeply that he had not the means to return to Wall Street that he might have another lucky turn that would enable him to fulfil these religious obligations according to the original intention. In the bankruptcy schedule his personal property is itemized as follows: watch and chain, $150; sealskin coat, $150; wearing apparel, $100; Bible, hymn books, &c., $130. Although he was economic in his domestic expenses, he entertained friends liberally, and his house at the southwest corner of Seventeenth street and Union Square was always open to Methodist ministers, free of charge, from all quarters of the world. Some years prior to his death Mr. Drew gave the following candid, succinct and pathetic account of his embarrassment to a journalist who interviewed him: “I had been wonderfully blest,” said Uncle Daniel, “in money making. I got to be a millionaire before I knowed it hardly. I was always pretty lucky till lately. I didn’t think I could ever lose money extensively. I was ambitious of making a great fortune, like Vanderbilt, and I tried every way I knew, but got caught at last. Besides that, I liked the excitement of making money, and giving it away, and am glad of it. So much has been saved anyhow. Wall Street was a great place for making money, and I could not give up the business when I ought to have done so. Now, I see very clearly what I ought to have done. I ought to have left the Street eight or ten years ago, and paid up what I owed. When I gave $100,000 to this institution and that, I ought to have paid the money, and I ought to have provided better for my children, by giving them enough to make them rich for life. Instead of that I gave my notes, and only paid the interest on ’em, thinking I could do better with the principal myself. One of the hardest things I have had to bear has been the fact that I could not continue to pay the interest on the notes I gave to the schools and churches.”