St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1893-04-29
A WsiT TO WHITTIER.
S0mo Effective Slde-LiEhts Thrown On Il
Character OF the Poet

\, a VISIT TO WHITTIER.
Some Effective Side-Lixhts Thrown on n
Character OF the Poet.
The memory of visit 70 Amesbur,
made once in September, wildly n
mains with me. 1t was early in tn
month, when the lingering heat q
summer seems sometimes to gathe
/. fresh intensity from the fact that "
are SO soon to hear the winds of a.
! tumn.
Amesbury had greatly altered of lat
years; Large enou IN to be q city," ou
friend declared; but l am not ia
| enough to be an alderman" To us /
was still small village, though some
what dustier and less attractive thai
when we first knew it.
As we approached the house we saw
him from distance characteristically
gazing down the road for US. from hi.
front yard, and then at the first glimps
suddenly disappearing. to come forth
again to meet us, quite fresh and quiet
from his front door. 1t had been a
very hot, dry summer, and everything
about that place. rs about every other
was parched and covered with dust
There had been no rain for weeks and
the village street was then quite inno-
cent Of watering carts The fruit hung
heavily from the nearly leafless trees
and the soft thud of the pears and ap
pies as they fell to the ground could be
heard on every side in the quiet house
yards The sun struggled feebly
through the mists during the noontide
hours, when a still heat pervaded rath.
er than struck the earth; and then in
the early afternoon and late into the
next morning stirless cloud seemed to
cover the face of the world. These
mists were much increased by the burn
ing of peat and brush, and, alas! of the
very woods themselves, in every direc-
ton Altogether. as Whittier said,
quantity, 1T was very encouraging
weather for the MilleritcA"
His niece, who bears the name
OF his beloved sister. was then
the mistress of his home, and
we were soon made heartily well
come inside the house. where every.
thing was plain and neat, as became u
Friends household; hut as the village
had grown to be a stirring place, and
the house stood close upon the dusty
road. such charming neatncss must
have been diff cult achieve
ment The MONDAY meal was soon
served and soon ended. and then we sat
down behind the half-closei blinds,
looking out upon the garden, the faded
Vines and almost leaflesS trees II was
> cozy room, with its Franklin stove,
1t this season surmounted by bou-
luet, and . table between the windows,
where was q larger bouquet, which
Whittier himself had gathered that
in anticipation of our arrival
lie had seemed brighter aud better than
We had dared to hope, and was in cx-
,eilcnt mood for talking. Referring
lgain to the Milleritcs, who had been
% terminated by the mists, he said he
'ad been deeply impressed lately with
heir deplorablc doctrines ''Continu-
lily disappointed because we don't all
'urn upon sudden. they forget to be
for their preservation from
he dire fate they predict with so much
lie had Just received proof of his
'ocm, 'Miriam," with the introduction,
nd he could not be content until they
'ad been read aloud to him. After the
eading they were duly commented up.
a and revised until he thought he |
ould do NO more, vet twice before our |
eparture the proofs were taken out of |
he handbag. where they were safely
towed away. and again more or less
ltercd.
Whittier's ever growing fame was not |
AIKEN by him as matter of course Il |
an not think very well Of my own |
hings," he used to say; land what is
here fame worth when thee is at home |
lone, and sick with headaches, unable
ither to read or to writer" Ncverthe-
IS he derived very great pleasure and
pnsolation from the letters and trib-
ties which ponred in upon him from
carts he had touched or lives he had
uickened. THAT like" he would
"; ''that is worth having" But he
lust often have known the deeps of
'ouble in winter evenings when he
as too i'll to touch book or pen, and
hen he could do nothing during the
ing hours but sit and think over the
re.
We slept in Elizabeth's chamber.
he portrait of their mother. framed in
ntumn leaves gathered in the last aut-
mn of her life, hung upon the wall.
ere, too. rs in our bed room at Dick
IS. the diary of Pepys lay on the
bile. Dickens had read his copy faith
lily and written notes therein. OF
lis copy the leaves had not been cut,
1t with it lay the Prayers of the
gc," and volumes of poems which had
I been well read and ''Pickwiclx" up
/ the top-Annic Field, in Harper's