The first of these appeared in a Pennsylvania town with a woman who claimed there that she had written everything ever published under Rose Terry's name, that the name was a pen name any way, the name of a little cousin of hers who died young, her uncle, the child's father, allowing her to use it. This person aroused a wild religious excitement among the young people of the place, fell into hysteric trances on hearing sacred music, and made herself generally adored and followed. As irritating as this was, she further stated that she had received from these writings of hers, and had used it all in educating poor girls. After a time, Harriet Beecher Stowe received a note from the lady with whom this pretender boarded, which ran, —"dear Madam,—I call upon you to silence the base reports spread about here concerning a lovely Christian woman at present staying with me. A line from you, stating that she is the author of the works written under the signature of Rose Terry will stop the rumors at once, and much oblige yours truly." Stowe immediately responded that she had known Rose Terry from her birth, and that she was then, and had been for many years, living in Hartford, and the other person was an impostor. Years afterward, this deceiver came to Rose Terry's home town, established herself there as one of the leaders in religious and charitable matters, told someone that she had written much under Rose's name, told someone else that she had a year from the "Atlantic Monthly," and marked several of the best poems in a religious collection as her own, the publisher positively denying her statement when asked about it. This peculiar individual held a trusted position in a city charity, and lived in a wealthy family as a guide, although the truth was told to her clientele, who persisted in regarding her as a persecuted saint. The next impersonation was made by a lady on a railroad train, who made acquaintance with the sister of a friend of Rose's, the sister never happening to have seen Rose. She informed her that she was Rose Terry, that she was going abroad to write a book, and various other items of her literary affairs, of which Rose herself was never in the habit of speaking to casual acquaintances, having an old-fashioned predilection for modesty. Number