, 1888-07-22
HOME OF FAMOUS people.
aud the ola Fashioned Life IN
the Name Islands.

NASLlNEi hle's Ouly lOi looS.-Oue
may have the good fortune to have been
born in the great, grand West; but
whether it be through heredity, or be-
cause the American finds a glorious histo.
ry back of him here, one feels the constant
home coming thrill wherever he may turp
within the boundaries of old Acadia.
And think If | had my way about it, |
would never cease writing good things of
that dearest of old American seaport
town, Portland, the lovely, leafy city
of which Fanny Fern wrote so pathetically
when tenderly telling the story of her own
eyentful live.
Many, many long years after this
Cher childhood experiences) she wrote: Il
visited my birthplace, Portland, from
which my mother removed when | was
SIX months old. wandered up and down
the streets OF that lovely, leafy city, and
tried Ito find the church where good DIR.
Payson used to preach. Then, too, /
wanted to see the house where / was born
tho house where he laid hands of bless
ing on my baby forehead when it was
purple with what they thought was the
death agony But where it was that
the little Pickering life began, | could not
find out.
Poor heart She found no one who
seemed TO care.
But hundreds of thousands of those
whose hairs are now sllvery, and whose
eyes in the youth tide grew misty above
her Fern Leaves did care. ! cared.
And they and | cared where her brother
Nathaniel Parker Withstand great soul
wrongly enyironed and forever prodded
past the calmness which gives supreme
opportunity, whose tender spirit stole out
OF its tortured tenement,
Down n path beyond the grave,
on his 6lst birthday, that dreary 10Th of
January, 1867, at sweet ldlewild-on Hud-
son-was born; and a few years ago, not
minding whether Portland people liked it
or not, | dug among the misty records
and placed the spot, so it may be known
for all time. So if you ever wander to
the quaint old city, so that you may know
where 1t is, for good Portland folk like
money bags better than monuments, | will
set it down here. 1t is at - Franklin
street lin the old days, Essex street,. The
lot, which is on the west side of Franklin
street, and lust one lot south of Federal,
begins fifty and six-tenths feet south of
Federal, has u frontage on Franklin of
tifty-one feet, and is seventy feet deep.
Ii is now occupied by a smart looking,
comfortable two-story brick house, whose
one prim door plate announces il to be the
home of y. Ahren." Lincoln park,
Portland 5 single central city park begins
here at the intersection of Franklin and
Federal streets and uns up west a bit,
iostling business affairs and attractive
homes, and how good and gracious a thing
it would be if, somewhere about the cor
al tins nratfu QnAf thnra ,n,1l L..
built an enduring record which should
point out to the traveller of our own or
foreign land the place where were born
To the honor and renown
OF this rare old seaport town
a man and woman who charmed and bet
tered life at the American fireside, and
whose pure aud graceful if not always To-
spired pens Loyalty served to enrich Amer
lean literature,
And there were others IN old Portland
town whose memory will touch this side
OF your thought and memory. Midway
between the busy places of Portland and
MunioY hill, whore once stood ancient
Fort Sumner, of which Longfellow wrote
My Lost Youth in this wise
remember the bulwarks upon the shore,
And the fort upon the hill;
Ihe sunrise gun, with Its hollow roar,
Ihe drum-beitt repeated Ger and DER,
80 'A'N shHN RAA
is the old Eastern cemetery, where are
buried a score or more who AVE figured
in history and song Against the Middle
street side of this is a cumbrous support
ing wall. Running toward the harbor is
Hancock street, aristocratic in former
times. AT the corner OF this, aud Fore,
street is the square, prim, ''hipped' roof
dilapidated structure, built by merchant
Samuel Stephenson. ln this Longfellow
was born. His boyhood and youth were
passed in the stately brick house still
standing on Congress street, where resides
his sister, Mrs. Annie Longfellow Pierce.
NaY, as then, its square front comes up.
to within easy gossiping distance OF the
street; as then, its great chimneys plunge
through a low "hipped'' roof; its lines of
square little windows are still true and
prlm and grim; its low, colonaded portico
suggests the entrance to some puritan
church, and now as then three majestic
elms break the winds that sweep up from
the sea.
1t was a brave old time when these two
homes were built, more than a century
ago. The precision of solemn form had
not lessened. The righteousness of NOR. Is
and piety was grace itself. Something
like a courtly aristocracy from the colonial
times was still with the New England peo-
pile. The quaint old things of the still
older days were tenaciously regarded.
There was then still heredity in a cue,
ancestry in a ruf]ed shirt frill, reverence
in knee buckles. The brass door knock
ers took on a flavor of heraldry; the old
Dutch clocks sounded solemn protest
against the heresy of innovation; while
the andiroD and the crane would they
were again with usll stood rugged guard
over the folk lore and the home shine-if
that word may be made-of the Preside.
Longlellow was born into this stately but
mellow time and atmosphere. From it
came the American medieval of age mel
lowed form and tint, subduing and soften
ing the heaven reaching Gothic of his
perfect and melodious numbers. This
Identification of expression with impress
sion is not a mere matter of fancy. 1t
becomes, with Longfellow, n loving birth
mark upon the sunny face of his rhymes,
from the Sea Diver published in the
United States Literary Gazette. Aug. Is,
1926. when the poet was but 10. of which