Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1882-04-20
RrmInI eences Of ionpf low.

dramatic critic and poet, was an inti-
mate friend Of Longfellow; and in some
unusually interesting "Reminiscences o
the dead poet hc says:
recall many talks with him, about
poetry, and the avenues OF literary
labor, and the discipline Of the mind
i4 youth. His counsel was always
summed up in two words-calmness and
patience. He did not believe in seeking
experience, or in going to meet burdens.
"What you desire will come, il you will
but wait for it that he said 10 me
again and again. My great ambition
once was" he remarked, one evening,
to edit a magazine. Since then the
| opportunity has been offered 10 me
many times-and l did not take it, and
would not" That same night he spoke
oi his first poem-the first that ever
was printed-and described his trepida-
ton, when going, in the evening, to
drop the precious manuscript into the
editors box. This WAS at a weekly
Newspaper Office in Portland, Maine,
when he was boy. Publication day
arrived and the paper came out-but
no. word Of the poem. "Bu. / had
another copy" he said, "and i'm
mediately sent it to the rival weekly.
and the next week il WAS published"
And then he described his exultation
and ine1pressible Joy and pride, when
having bought copy Of the paper,
still damp from the press, and walked
with it into by.street Of the town-he
saw, for the first time, a poem Of his
own actually in print Il have never
since had such thrill Of delight" be
said, lover any Of my publications"
His sense Of humor found especial
pleasure in the inappropriate words tha.
we're sometimes said to him by persons
whose design it was 10 be compliment
ary, and be would relate, with keen
relish Of their pleasantly, anecdotes
| against himself TO illustrate this form
of social blunder. Years ago he told
me, al Cambridge, about the strange
gentleman who was led up to him and
introduced at Newport, and who
straightway said with enthusiasic fer.
voF: Mr.. Longiellow, have long de.
sired the honor Of knowing your / am
one Of the few men who have read your
'Egangcline.'" This aueodo:e, in
recent days, be coupled with another,
about an English lady, who, on being
/ introduced, exclaimed: I" Why, Mr..
Longtellow, thought ycu we're deadr'
"No, madame, you see take the liberty
OF living" "Yes-but / thought at
least you belonged to Washington's
time" Another of his iavorites was
related to me day or two after il oc-
Cured. The poets rule was to reserve
the morning for work, and visitors were
not received before II o'clock, noon.
One morning a man forced his way past
the servant who had opened the hall
door, aud burst in upon the presence Of
the astonished author in his library; and
thereupon ensued this remarkable con-
versation: = Mr.. Longfellow, you're q
poet, I believe" /" Well, sir, some
persons have said So" All right, Mr..
Longiellow. Poet it is Now, I've
called here to see II couldn't git you
TO write some poetry, for me TO have
printed, and stuck onto my medicine
bottles. You see, so raund sellin' this
medicine, and il you'll do it, it'll help
me immensely; and I'll inst tell you
right now, If you'll give me the poetry,
I'll give you bottle Of the carminative
and it's 81 a bottle" For the full
enjoyment of this story it was needful
to see the poets face. and hear the de-
licious, bland tone Of voice in which be
added " The idea OF its being q car
minative of all things" More than
twenty-four years ago he told me that
incident-sitting by the vide fireplace.
in the library back OF his study. As
write his words now. the wind seems
again to be moaning in the chimney,
and the firelight flickers on his pale,
handsome, happy face, aud already sil-
vered hair. He took such delight in
any bit OF quiet fun, like that. He was 50
gracious, 30 kind, so wishful to make
every one happy that came near him.
And nov he is gone forever.