The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1877-05-03
A Few Houfs with Charles Dickens.

"A Few Houis with Charles. Dickens.
First Of all, must tell you: that we
three, young people were brought up to
know Of Dickens by heart. We had,
moreover, the good fortune to know of
him as the warm personal fried of our
father, and to feel that, by virture of
auld lang syne, we had at least some
claim upon bis friendship. SO when, in
the late autumn, we came back to Eng
land and found that Mr.. Dickens had
begun his famous readings, it was very
plain to Us that in one way or another We
must hear him. F@9
The chief difficulty lay in the fact that
he was reading only in the provinces, and
it was by no means easy to find out where
Or how to catch him. The Council of
Three had a protracted meeting, the
result Of which was. that my brother
wrote directly to Mr.. Dickens, telling him
of our desire, and asking if he would
be kind enough to advise us what to~do.
Quickly came buck as little. note, asking
US to meet him at Colchester, where he
was to read on a certain evening the trial
AAOu lCAWlCh:' duu SclCCIlOOS from
Nicholas Nickleby.''
Well, few days later, in the autumnal
twilight, we were met on the platform at
Colchester by the young man then Of
ficiating as Mr.. Dickens's secretary, who
took US at once to the queer old English
inn,-than which We could have found no
filter place wherein no meet him who
wrote Of "Boots at the Holly-tr tree 1nn,"
and those two dear little runaways.
Can anybody imagine how we felt when,
half an hour later, fat and solemn wait
er appeared at our door and informed US
that Mr.. Dickens hisself had hordered
supper for us2" And cannot everybody
understand that our appetites were
rather taken away than stimulated,
when we found that our supper was evil
dently the work of host who remem-
bered the days of his youth, and had found
time to give thought to the young people
he was entertaining? Everything that the
appetite of sixteen was likely to crave,
was thcrc-cven to certain kind of little
custards, which Mr.. Dickens had selected
as being sure to please the "young Ia
dies"
AAA4O tACA We "C1C LdhCu OAl ~ IllC l1lCGA-
ter, and cnsconced in corner where we
could see and hear better than anybody
else, and where we caught, more than
once during the evening, sideway smiles
from the world-known eyes and mouth
that were so quick and keen in their
glances and expression. Of the reading
itself can say nothing; ask your parents
about it; those who have heard it know
what it was to them while to those who
have not been so fortunate, descrip-
tions can only be an aggravation of their
ill-luck.
We, at least, were more than satisfied as
to the greatness of our favorite, and after
the reading was over, it was not with
little trembling that our insignificant feet
followed the attendant to the dressing
room, where Mr.. Dickens, in his shirt
sleeves, was walking rapidly up and
down, as means of getting through
with the cooling and calming process,
which was always necessary after the
intense excitement and exertion of his
reading.
The thing which struck me first, and
which has always remained my strongest
impression about him, was his power of
putting himself in complete sympathy
with other people; and believe that to
be the keynote Of his genius. During
that hour, and the hours which followed
it,-for we went back with him to the inn
and sat beside him while he ate his
hearty suppcr,-he was literally one of
us,-a boy,-only boy beyond compare
in exuberance Of mirth, quickness Of wit,
and inexhaustible capacity for happiness.
He was absolutely never still, mentally or
physically thoughts, words and gestures
followed each other in bright succession,
till it was little wonder that my sister
and I went to bed thoroughly exhausted,
to pass night Of mingled dreams and
slecplessness, under the canopy of our
queer old dingy four poster
In the morning, we woke to find q
smart little snow-storm going on, but
none the less CHEEKY was the breakfast
with MIR. Dickens; for his was a
gayety dependent neither on weather, nor
hours, nor people.
Through the softly falling snow We
came back together to London, and on
the railway platform parted with hearty
Misunderstanding from the man who will
forever be enshrined in our hearts as the
kindest and most generous, not to say
most brilliant, of hosts.-From sour Let
ter" st. Nicholas for Mav.