Bismarck weekly tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1943, 1891-10-02
HARRIET PRESCOTT sPoFFoRD.

A Flaming Fire Lily Among the Pale
Blossoms of New England.
The coming to the front of new writers
of short stories, like Mary e. Wilkins and
Octave Thanet," has somewhat over
Swallowed the fame of the older writers.
But Elizabeth Stuart Phelps and Harriet
Prescott Spofford have borne a goodly
share in the evolution of the short story
and its establishment as q literary fact.
Surely the new aspirants will do we'll if
they equal the pathos and power of Jack"
and 1.-THE Madonna of the Tubs" or the
fascination of "The Amber Gods" My
youth found great delight in Harriet Pres
colts stories. I reveled in her sonorous,
burning diction, whose lavish color and
life somebody has described as 'the stiff
mother tongue molten and fused in a
magic crucible, and turned to liquid gold
and gems" One n help wondering
whence came this tropical luxuriance of
imagination in a child born among the
lumber forests of Maine, nurtured amid
the prim provincialism Of old Newburyport
n educated within the austere limita-
lions OF Pinkerton academy, in New Hamp.
shire. But one sometimes finds a flaming
fire lily of scarlet among the pale blossoms
of New England's hillsides.
Her mother is said to lave been intel
lectual and high bred, but rather proud
and reserved; her father brilliant, tender,
and prodigally hospitable, and, withal, de-
scended from what DR.. Holmes calls "the
Brahmin race Of New England" Mr.. Whit
tier, many years ago, described Harriet
Prescott to me as delicate and shy as a
wildwood anemone." This was a great
shock to preconceived notions of the bril-
liant writer.
Like H. H" in her childhood, she in
duced a playmate to start off with her to
find the jumping off place. of the world,
which her imagination wildly pictured.
Great was her. indignation to be brought
back ignominiously by a kind farmer who
found them footsore, but persevering, two
miles from home. She was the delight of
her girlish friends by her ability to write
dramas or school exhibitions, many of
them resting on a historical basis. These
dramas have survived their generation,
and also served the purpose of the schools
of today.
Her first literary success was winning
the prize for an essay on Hamlet" Of
fered to the pupils of the Ncwburyport
free school. This attracted the attention
of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, whose
keen insight discerned her ability and en-
couraged n developed her genius.
A childish friendship between Harriet
Prescott and Hon. Richard s.. Spofford rip
ened into betrothal, and after many years
eliminated in marriage. Their only child
dying in infancy, lefta grief in the mother's
heart that time has not effaced. Until Mr.,
SpoHOrd's death they spent Il part of every
winter at the Parker House, and were be.
loved by a circle of Boston friends. Mrs.
Spofford still occupies their unique and ex-
quisitely beautiful home at Deer Island.
picturesquely situated between Newbury-
port and Amesbury. Great pine trees on
one side and the river rushing past on the
other make the seclusion complete, and vet
a few steps bring them to the bridge,
whence the street cars lead to the two
towns. Her sister, Mary N. Prescott, who
also has the gift of story telling, shares her
home. Mrs. Spofford's short stories are
frequently seen in various periodicals, and
her last book was a juvenile story, '"The
Lost Jewell" which a little friend pro-
nounces perfectly lovely"
Names often have a peculiar fitness to
the persons bearing them, as if the good
fairy at the cradle foresaw the future per
sonality. Again, a name is strangely ill
adapted to its recipient. Did you ever
know a gawky woman named Grace, and
a dark muscular one whom fate had I'M
kindly christened Lilyp Mrs. Spofford
tells q personal incident in this same line.
One of her colored servants in Washing
ton asked permission to name her baby
after her mistress, but when the little
darby was brought for inspection it's name
proved to be Genevieve. "Oh," said Mrs,
Spofford, II thought she was to be called
Harriet after me-" COB course, Mis- Poi
ft," said the mother, "but you see Gene.
We've 'spresses you a sight better'n Harriet
does. "-Boston Cor. Worcester Spy.