Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1859-12-09

yes ," said he, al knew every man of
tnem out three land now thev are all gone
Are the portraits od?'' inquired.
'Scott's head, " he replied, is well drawn
though the expression lacks sometime of
Scott force, Clmpbell's is tolerab Lock-
hart's is the worst. 'L0ckhart,' said he.
was man of very deliclte org .nization,
but ne had more manly look than in the
picture"
'You should write one more book"
| hinted
| ''What is that ?"
Your "reminiscences Of those literary
friends'
"Ah, >" he exclaimed, cit is too late now
L shall never take the pen again | have so
entirely given up writing, that even my best
friends letters lie unanswered I must have
rest. No more books now -
He referred to the visit, week before,
from Mr.. Willis, whose letter he had Just
been rearing IN the Home Journal
g am most glad said he. .sthat Mr..
Willis remembered my nieces they are nv
hOusekeepers and nurses: they take such good
care of me that really am the most fortu-
nate old bachelor in the world Yes, - he
repeated with a merry emphasis. 'sthe most
lOTluIldLe Olu DacnelOr IN the world
1t was delightful 10 witness the animation
of his manner, and the heartiness of his crat-
itude, as he continued to relate how thev
supplied all his wants-gave him the medi-
cines at the right time. without troubling
him to look at the clock for hinsslf-called
him down to breakast-cloaked and shawled
him for his morning ride--brought him his
hat for his fine weather walks-and in every
possible way humored him in every possible
whim.
% l call them sometimes nv nieces," he
said, 8. but ottener my daughters ="
As I rose to 90, he brought from a corner
of the room a photograph of a little girl, ex-
hibiting it with great enthusiasm. 1t was
gift from little child who had come to see
him every day during his sickness. The pic
ture was accompanied with a note, printed
in large letters, with a lead pencil, by the
little correspondent. who said she was tG0
young to write He spoke with great viva
city Of his childish visitor. 50 Children
said the old man, - are great pets: | am
very fond Of the little creatures.
The authors strdy-into which looked
for few moments before leaving-is small
room, almost entirely filed bv the great writ
ing table and the lounge behind it. The
Wills are ldttSU Win DOCKS ana pictures.
which evidently are re-arranged every day by
some delicate hand for none Of the books
were tumhled into corner, and no papers
were lying loose upon the table. The pen,
too, was laid precisely parallel to the edge
of the ink-stand-a nicely which only a
womanly housekcep-r would persevere to
maintain Besides, there was not a spcck
of dust upon carpet OF cushion,
I stood reverentlv in the little room-as if
it were a sacred placei It's associations filed
my mind with as much delight as if | had
been breathing fragance from hidden A)wers.
On leaving, | carried the picture Of it vividly
in my mind and still carry 1.-THE quiet
secluded, poetic haunt IN which a great
aut or wrote his greatest works
As l came away, the old gentleman bundled
his shawl about him, and stood a few mo-
ments on the steps. A momentary burst Of sun
shine fell on him through the breaking clouds.
In that full light he looked still less like an
old man than in the dark parlor by the shad-
ed window. His form was slightly bent,
but the quiet humor Of the early portraits
was still lingering in his face. He was the
same genial, generous, merry eyed man at
seventy as Jarvis had painted him near
ly fifty years before. / wish always to re-
member him as | saw him at that last mo-
ment, THEoDOGE TuToN.