The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1884-09-06

cupola caps 1T and q vane above tells
which way the wind is. In the rear of
the house is the old-time garden where
the philosopher rambles in flower and
fruit season. l had strong desire to
see the garden, and walked over the
green, thickening sward to this retreat
in the plant world. A long hedge of
lilac bushes screened it from eyes 100
prying, and beyond is one OF those de-
lightful old gardens where nature IS
will, as well as mans, has something to
say about the arrangement Of the place.
In their season rare hollyhocks are said
to open their treasures of sweets to the
passing bees, but at the time of my
visit small army of tulips held aloft
their bright banners. There are fruit
trees as well as flowers in this garden,
and among the former are apple trees
of dignified growth.
AS one enters the house, he stands in
a long hall from which climbs a STAIR
way to the second story, winding as it
climbs heavenward, like mortals gener-
ally who prefer to 60 circuitously rath-
er than straight up. Two colonial
worthless, very much wigged and very
sedate, look down on you from the
walls above the winding stairway. There
is table at the right Of the hall, and
above it is painting -ancient-of
Ganymede. l stepped back Tito the
hall, and at the left / saw hat-tree, on
which hung drab felt hat, as if left
there by the master of the house when
he came from his garden, and might be
taken by him any moment in anticipa-
ton of walk to the village postoffice.
1t was Emerson's hat. You enter the
study by door at the right when you
come in from the path to the street, so
suggestive of the close connection
between the practical and abstract in
Emerson's writings, of sentences where
a very homely, everyday fact borders
the edge of some deep, abstruse philoso-
ply. The study is not some grand
apartment crowded with books, but Ia
plain room, square and lighted by four
windows, set deep in the walls and fur
nished with wooden shutters. At your
left you see three tiers of book shelves
reaching from the floor to the ceiling.
I took down one book, plainly antique,
and saying on fly leaf: ar. Waldo
Emerson from his brother, Wm." Its
title was "Codex Pseudepigraphus We
teris Testament Johanne
Alberto Fabricio." Its date ofpublica-
ton was 1713. One will not find "Em.
erson's hobby" in that collection of
books, but in two shelves of note books
under the window. The world has
heard much about Emerson's note
books, aid having heard, 1 was anxious
to see. These books carried on their
backs successive letters of the alphabet
One, for instance, that 1 noticed was
lettered sc. H." and it was labeled
with date 1847. Emerson was an as
jotter down of the flashes that
came to him, and these books must
scintillate with many bright sparks. A
story is told of Emerson's illustrating
his habit of trusting to paper any
thought which could not well be put
into the custody of his memory. His
wife is said to have heard him stirring
In the night and solicitously inquired
what the matter was-if he was i'll.
'sNo, dear, only an idea," was the as
serted reply. II is said that these note
books were the reason of Emerson's
success. In like manner people have
spoken as if Moody's conservation were
he secret of Moody's success. 1t is
secret undoubtedly bringing him in
contact with the source of all power,
out when we speak of Moody's conse-
,ration, we must remember that Moody
had good deal to consecrate. So.
Emerson put much into his notebooks
lnder the deep window recess. The
notebook was only an accidental feat
Ire of his daily work. Let one buy
0f ta h0AHc fhsr,Hfnor 10
N Emerson. His thoughts may be so
mean that he can more profitably spend
lis time selling his notebooks for paper
ags.
noticed various pictures in the
tudy, and my attention was magnet
zed by the open fireplace with it's
Metallic CRATE. That style of fire al
rays suggests good cheer and kind of
never in the way, but con-
sntedly keeping its own snug, warm
orner in the chimney. On the mantel
bove the CRATE l noticed various relics,
ut that interesting me most was lit
e image, plainly Egyptian, looking
nth dull eyes born by the Nile out into
ne sharp, inquisitive New England at
losphere.
ILhCioOA NlA nOt WOlk db q luOQ6Tn
riting desk, furnished with all kinds
conveniences, but at a plain, round,
ark table. sat down In his old black
ocking- chair with a cushion of dark
reen plush, and dipped apen in the
ink stand. ''He wrote
18th quill,'' said a lady informant.
o 1 picked out a quill from the pen
ish and fancied that was holding one
the arrows that Emerson used to
loot at all kinds of follies.
The same day that l visited Emer-
ms former home, went to Sleepy
ollow cemetery. 1t was beautiful
av In spring, when all the trees were
stir with life creeping up their dark
unks, oozing out into every branch
Id twig, unfolding in the leaves,
out fragrancein the blossoms
the apple and pear, tulip and violets.
his wave of life rolled into Sleepy
ollow and filed it with beauty.
eepy Hollow is hollow encircled by
wooded ridge, and in its form sug-
,sts an amphitheater. know of no
metery that is so peculiar. Hidden