The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1885-09-14
MRS. PARTINcToN HOME.
The Aged Humorist as He is Seen at
Chelsea.

A Philadelphia Press correspondent called
on the venerable "Mrs. Partington" at Chel-
sea the other day. and writes the following
to his paper:
81 never call man old till he gets to be an
oetagon or a centurion" said B. P. Shillaber
(AIrs. Partington) to a friend who was con-
graduating him upon having thatday reached
the good age of 20.
UNLESS it should be foreordained before
hand in advance" playfully rejoined his
friend, that he should survive his factories
and become idiomatic before that time"
The genial humorist was seated in his fa-
vorite room, which in these later years has
confined him for months at a time. But few
of his many callers would dream of this fact.
The ever hearty welcome which they re-
celye and the absence of any personal COM
planning certainly do not hint of the severe
pain which is a frequent visitor. Only the
crutch in the corner suggests it There
looked out from the painting on the wall the
roguish face of Ike, ''the prodigal of virtue"
the very same Ike who caused Mrs. Parting
ton to wonder why he didn't get medal,
for certainly a more meddlesome boy she
never knew" although at the same time she
dared to hope that with judicial training he
might yet become useful membrane of So
clety." On the shelf below the painting was
Sidney Morse's fine statuette of the humor-
lst. The writing desk which had done him
faithful service for fully twenty-five years
stood opposite.
Over the, writing desk, on bookshelf,
were what he called his three essentials
large Polyglot Bible which had an interest
ing family history, Shakespeare and Web
Sters Dictionary There was a twinkle in
his eye when he remarked that through these
he showed his loyalty to the angular Sax
ons: Upon being asked where his own
books. were, he naively replied that he ''kept
them In another room out of sight" Speak
ing of these, it is pleasant to know that the
hrst copy OF each one of them he inscribed to
tne one VINO forty years was true and low
ing helpmeet, whom death claimed some two
years since, leaving him alone but for the
bright, helpful presence of an unmarried
daughter, who has now the sole charge of his
house, and is daily elixir which any man
might envy.
Unfortunately Mr.. Shillaber is not as ''rich
as Cre0sote' and never has been. He has
longed Ito have villain in the country and
become an amatory farmer under the canis-
ter OF heaven: But he has surely illustrated
In his life and in his works, a quality of mind
which not even CrGsus's money could buy,
that ''it is better to speak paregorically of
person than to be all the time fiinging epi-
taphs at him."
LII Iu6 cOnHnen6nIN Wnlcn is now more or
less his he is ever interested in the outside
world. His interest in politics is as fresh as
when he was young man, before he sin
herited the gout from his wife's ancestors
He is rooted and grounded in the principles
OF a true Democracy. The Boston Post,
which first introduced him as Mrs Parting
ton, is still welcome daily visitor. But in
talking with him on political matters no one
can help thinking of poor Paul, the corporal
Of the Bloody 7th, ''who was inclined to poll
tics, but wasn't propergander nor an oily
garchist, or an averitionist nor demigod;
all he wanted was an exercise OF his suffer-
ings and the use of his elective French
eyes,"
Mr.. Shillaber's interest in his friends is
frequently shown in the apt improptus which
Unexpectedly greet them. AS an instance,
with acopy of Browning's "Agamemnon and
Dramatic 1dyls," which, one Christmas time,
he sent as present, he wrote ON the fly
leaf:
"a Merry Christmas, send with this
Though it seems abSurdity crowning
To wish for cachinatOry bliss
Over the works of Browning
The many rhymes of his, which have ad-
ded pleasure to festive occasions, are grow
ing fewer and fewer, and in his home in
Chelsea his thoughts turn oftener than for
merly to the unknown country. As he says