The Hancock Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Ohio) 1857-1870, 1869-01-01
WHOLE NUMBER Sl3.
A Renaissance of a Poet.

In the spring Of Is5- / was stu
dent out of health and out of funds
To he sure there was nothing remark
able in that, for students are apt to be
IN that way But it led me to ramble
toward the sea, and that took me
through Amesbury, the home of Whit
tier. l carried the universal black
bag, filled with ''pins, needles, thin-
bles, sewing silks" etc, which served
me instead of q purse to all intents
and purposes, then, | was de Jaeto
peddler, a class of individuals not gen
orally mentioned the same day with
the minister, nor thought much of in
comparison with quarterly meetings.
When came into Amesbury / was
tired and hungry, with long days
walk, without dinner. / had little
money in my pocket, so l depended
on the bag. It was near dark, and
Saturday night. So began the in
quiry for an abiding place for the Sab
bath; but what right had |, peddler,
to expect any family to put themselves
out to- accommodate me? "There was
a good hotel in the place." But with
me hotel was out of the question:
And so | trudged on, and got sub
stantially the same reply from all. At
length turned into Friend Street, 1
had entirely forgotten that the ''Qua-
ker poet lived in the town. And go
ing on indiscriminately in my applca-
tions, l approached a neat cottage. en-
powered in shrubbery, and the yard
adorned with flowers, and through an
open window / observed table piled
up with books and newspapers 'sProb-
ably a lawyer or minister said /
''little luck for me here'' j rang the
bell, and tall, spare man, with prom
inent features and mild countenance,
opened the door. From the portraits
I had seen, recognized him in a mo-
ment. | had stumbled ON the poet.
"Good evening, young man. he
said
responded. But / was abashed, and
observing hesitation In my manner,
he invited me in. The beneyolence in
his voice gave me assurance.
II am peddler, sir,'' said / Gin
pursuit of place to spend the Sab
bath"
81 would keepyou with great pleas
ure," said he, Nd / place for you
to sleep, but unf6ssunateIy there is a
quarterly meetin fef Friends here, and
have my beds al full But there is
a good man living lnthat house (pOint-
ing) who will. 30 you look tired,'
said he, "are you ven -
confessed / was Aot.
81 think Mr.. Barnard will do well
hy you,' said he; ''if he cannot, come
back To me. | am sorry Ia send you
any fun ther. II is a thing | never do
when | can avoid it.
/ went to Mr.. Barnard's, presented
my request, and was ut once received.
But had scarcely disposed of my bag
and hat when w Whittier came in.
"You looked SO pale, young man."
said he, ''that / felt L had not done
right, and came on after You lest you
should be compelled to walk further.
happened to think i could sleep on
the sofa myself
He then sat down and talked with
me for an holr, while the good wife
was preparing supper, as if had been
All equal. | was, in fact, for he COM
PEELED me To be- He would not even
receive my thanks for his kindness.
The next morning he invited me to
theirmeeting at the plain wooden meet
ing house on the edge of the wood
near the village. He showed me all
the conyeniences of the honse, how
they divided it by sliding partition,
etc. He then took me into his seat,
and sat down with his hat ON. Plain, in
telIigent, prim looking men, tidy wo.
men. and neat children came in and
sat down quietly. There was never a
doubt what each one had on; they
were all dressed plainly and alike
And there we sat till the village clock
struck twelve. Then Whittier gave
me his right hand, and the cengrega-
tion departed, The spirit had not mo-
we'd not word had been spoken.
As we separated at the gate OF Mr..
AS yard, he babe me the kindest OF
good byes, and j stood and gazed at
ter him with more admiration and
reverence than l ever felt for any
other great man.-COr. Springfield
RtpwJtican.