St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1888-01-08
DIR. HOLMES AT HOME.
Peeps Into the Haunts of the &c.
NAL Old Cambridge Poet,

NAL Old Cambridge Poet.
On dreary Sunday last spring, says
writer in the Epoch, received note
from DR.. Oliver Wendell Holmes. say
ing: Come to see me at any time after
2 o'clock tomorrow. Sunday, and 1 shall
be most happy to receive you" So
shortly after dinner, went to the ven
cradle autocrat's residence in Beacon
street, an UNCOVERED house with look
of hospitality about il, even from the eX-
terror. UShered into reception room,
which appeared like retired physicians
office, we sent up our cards, and pres
emily a slippered tread was heard upon
the broad staircase, and DIR. Holmes ap-
peared. He was gray-haired, with
kindly, warm, sparkling eyes overhung
by large, protrnding eyebrows. Stretch
ing forth his hand to my friends, he
said: II thank you for this compli-
ment;" then shaking hands with me, he
suggested going up stairs into the Ii
brary. At the head of the stairs, a tall
Old-fashiOned clock licked. AT the right
of the stairs was the entrance to the
library, a large cosy room with two
desks, and large bookcases and shelves
filled with ancient and modern volumes.
We walked to the bay windoW-rather
a river window, since it oyerlOoks the
CharleS-where the autocrat pointed
out the objects of interest i'll Cambridge
and along the water front, and spoke of
his interest in the swift tide. He COM
planned of barn next door, which had
been painted very conspicuous yellow,
but spoke kindlycof his neighbors, who
had disposed of their dogs upon his
stating that their barking and whining
disturbed kim. AS we sat talking, he
showed us his three sand-glasses
"a quarter, a half, and an hour glass
and explained that when he had es-
pecial work to perform, he turned all
three, and as each one ran out, he would
compare the work he had accomplished
with the quantity of sand run out, and
it proved that he did great deal. / re-
ferred to a three-minute glass for
cooking eggs. With twinkle in his
eye he said that "three-minute egg''
was too much for him. and turning to
my companion remarked: "YOu are a
young housekeeper; you ought to know
how long to cook an egg. Come, tell
uS"' He then added that he liked an
egg cooked just long enough to eoagu-
late the white and to slightly stiffen the
yOlk.
The portrait which suggested the
poem Dorothy O." hangs on the wall,
the canvas married by the thrusts of the
British bayonetS during the revolution.
Near it hangs very old painting of a
Boston divine; and there is a well-done
Statuette of the autOcrat himself, which
he apOlOgiZed for by saying that he
never thought it poor enough to put
away. A revolving bookcase stands at
one side of the room. 1t contains his
own works in green cloth, and books
particularly useful to him, among which
are the Bible, Milton's poems, Shake
speare, ROget's Thesaurus, BartlettS
Quotations and small dictionary.
The same quiet Sensibility present in
his writings is noticed in his speech,
and although he appeared cognizant of
his own celebrity, his egotism was a
charm-a sort of contented pride.
Neither robust nor delicate, he seemed
strong more by care than by constitu-
ton. Mature gave him good outfit
and fortune has favored him at every
step in his career" Although nearing
his four score years, his intellect is as
vigorous as in his prime, as may be seen
in "Our Hundred Days in Europe" of
which he spoke. saying it was long
trip for so old man, and although he
had good time he became SO fatigued
that he was still resting.
He thanked us again for our visit, and
as we closed the door. he called out
from the head of the stairs in CHEEKY
voice: ''Good-bye" The next day we
passed him hurrying along from his
house, closely buttoned up against the
chill east wind that scuds about the
Back bay and the Milldam. l then
thought how grand it would be if an
other score of years could be given to
this good and great man.