If it be true that love is the great incentive to the useless arts, the
number of gentlemen who became poets for the sake of Miss Betty Carewe
need not be considered extraordinary. Of all that was written of her
dancing, Tom Vanrevel's lines, "I Danced with Her beneath the Lights"
(which he certainly had not done when he wrote them) were, perhaps, next
to Crailey Gray's in merit, though Tom burned his rhymes after reading
them to Crailey. Other troubadours were not so modest, and the Rouen
Journal found no lack of tuneful offering, that spring, generously print-
ing all of it, even at the period when it became epidemic. The public had
little difficulty in recognizing the work of Mr. Francis Chenoweth in an
anonymous "Sonnet" (of twenty-three lines) which appeared in the issue
following Miss Carewe's debut. Mr. Chenoweth wrote that while dancing the
mazourka with a Lovely Being, the sweetest feelings of his soul, in a
celestial stream, bore him away beyond control, in a seraphic dream; and
he untruthfully stated that at the same time he saw her wipe the silent
tear, omitting, however, to venture any explanation of the cause of her
emotion. Old General Trumble boldly signed his poem in full. It was
called "An Ode upon Miss C--'s Waltzing," and it began:

"When Bettina found fair Rouen's shore,
And her aged father to us bore
Her from the cloister neat,
She waltzed upon the ball-room floor,
And lightly twirled upon her feet."

Mr. Carewe was rightfully indignant, and refused to acknowledge the
General's salutation at their next meeting: Trumble was fifteen years
older than he.

As Crailey Gray never danced with Miss Carewe, it is somewhat singular