The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1884-02-08
One of Diokens's Haunts.
The Little Old Shop in Feuer Lame and
Hts Aged Occupant.

In Fetter lane, London, there is queer
old curiosity shop, of which the Pail Mall
Gazette says: Several loud knocks failed to
bring any response, but after waiting for
minute of two, an o'd dame, bent and halt
ing, dressed in black gown, with a bright,
shrewd face, and keen eyes, appeared. At
ter we had explained matters, the other door
leading into the room was unlocked, and we
entered. The walls are lined all
round with books that have long been for
gotten by the world, all arranged with some
attention to regularity. A little angular
counter protests them from The profane
touch of curio hunters. This is covered
with old books, prints, tarnished silver,
glass cases, tatiered engravings and paint
ings cracked and stained. In one corner
Dame Haines sat down. "Here,s she said,
81 have seen Dickens sit many hundreds Of
times, and here he used to lean his shoulder
on the counter. Ahr' she went on. max
ing movement with her hands, and with
ecstacy expressed on every one of her
wrinkled features, 81 can see him now, with
his pleasant face, his quiet, ripping laugh
and his gentle ways. All! he was as mild
as lambp' At this time, Mrs. Haines
says, be appeared to be about Is years old.
Concerning one curious habit of his she was
very emphatic. 'Ayel whenever he laughed
he always threw up his upper lip." This
was repeated over and over again.
For some years, so she says, Dickens used
to be constant visitor here. At this time
he was a devourer of sensational novels and
Turpins and the daredevil Kidds who figured
in some of the romances of the day. We
hare before us the first Cal alogue in use at
the library, single stained and torn sheet,
enumeratiDg the titles of about so volumes.
Another one, enclosed in blue wrapper,
prepared at later period, is a curiosity in
its way; 'Bleak House, is given the place
OF honor. Dickens must have burned much
miInight oil; for he never went away with
out pile of books under his arm, which be
used to return at his next visit. Dick
ems, so goes the story, was generally
accompanied by friend named Wiffen,
who was apprenliced to gOld-and-silver
smith close by. These two and her husband,
who was master printer, used to sit long
together in the little shop, when the details
of the last new novel, the latest murder, the
last forgery, or the most recent sensation
were discussed with a fervid eageTness
which grew in intensity as the minutes few
by. Wiffen was a bOislerous youth, full Of
animal spirits, with hearty, exhilarating
laugh and hot temper. One memorable
evening these two had a rare quarrel, and
the old dame gives a vivid account which it
would be impossible to describe, of how they
quarreled about Fenimore Cooper's "Red
Rover" which they had both been reading.
Wiffen denounced the American novelist
roundly for abusing the great English nation
and for praising his own. Dickens took up
the cudgels on his behalf, and protested with
unusual fire thai novelist who took any
other course was base renegade. The dis
pute waxed warmer, and Dickens snatched
The unlucky volume ana hurled it at the
head of poor Wiffen. However, peace was
made between them, and no more was said
about the matter. The volume, alas, is not
70 be found, though it may, perhaps, be
found.
Aud here is the chair" This is natu-
rally most valued treasure. = ~as the
one that Dickens invariabi rs
visits to the circulating lit lsery
ordinary chair. Years az handed
down from father to daugS 1t grew old
and rickety, but still time has dealt kindly
with its limbs, but with little renovation
it would still be serviceable. But now 1t
rests in retirement, reverenced by all who
know of its existence, hidden away from the
ewes of ordinary Inorials. ''Ah! if IT,
Americans only knew of this, what >
il would tetchr' said my friend
dred hounds at least" l -
Mrs. Haines would neva-
chair to be taken av
her death, ma"
to his coll