It did not appear to me that this was such a stupendous feat as to need commemoration, so I turned down a side-street and walked on. In a few minutes I met a pump standing in the middle of the road. I saw there was an inscription on this too, and tried to avoid it, but a fatal fascination drew me on, and I read:-- “This pump was erected for the benefit of the thirsty wayfarer during the Governorship of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, A.D. ----.” I began to get rather tired of this, and turned towards the country, where I thought there could not be any more advertisements of this kind. I passed a dilapidated battery, which bore testimony in letters of stone to the worth of the departed monarch, Colonel Luke S. O’Connor the First, and approached the Colonial Hospital. From afar off I perceived a slab of darker stone let into the masonry of the wall, and I turned my head the other way. It was no use, I could not pass it, and I groaned in spirit as I read:-- “This building was enlarged during the Administration of Colonel S. Luke O’Connor, Governor, A.D. ----.” I staggered away and wandered into a neglected grave-yard by the side of the path to Oyster Creek. I was in hopes that I might be able to sooth my mind by finding the grave of this departed potentate; but, alas! after a long search I only found a tomb which bore the following remarkable epitaph: “Sacred to the memory of the bodies of three sailors, which were washed on shore on March ----, A.D. ----. This monument was erected during the Administration of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, Governor.” I left hastily. That man was not going to let his fame languish and die for want of a few monumental inscriptions.