I ever knew in my life, at four o'clock in the morning of January 19th, 1857, this large steeple fell on the top of our house which was a three story brick building. It broke through the roof and smashed in all the upper tier of rooms, the bricks and mortar falling to the lower floor. We were in the second story, and some of the bricks came into our room, breaking the glass and furniture, and the heaviest part of the whole lay directly on our house. It was the opinion of all who saw the ruins that we did not stand one chance in ten thousand of not being killed in a moment. I heard many a man say he would not take the chances that we had for all the money in the State. One man in the other part of the house was so frightened that he was crazy for a long time. Timbers in this steeple, ten inches square, broke in two directly over my bed and their weight was tremendous. I now began to think that my troubles were coming in a different form; but it seems I was not to die in that way. The business took a different shape in the spring, and I moved (another task of moving!) to Ansonia. Here I lived two years, but very unfortunately happened to get in with the worst men that could be found on the line of Rail-road between Winsted and Bridgeport. In another part of this book I have spoken of them; I do not now wish to think of them, for it makes me sick to see their names on paper. I had worked hard ever since I left New Haven--one year at Waterbury, and two at this place (Ansonia,)--but got not one dollar for the whole time. I was robbed of all the money which Mr. Stevens, (my son-in-law,) had paid me for the use of my trade- mark in England, for the years 1857-'58. This advantage was taken of me, because I could collect nothing in my own name.