The Lafayette gazette. [volume] (Lafayette, La.) 1893-1921, 1893-04-01
A VISIT TO WHITTIER.
Some EHectfve Side-LiShts Thrown on tn
Character OF the Poet.

\ VISIT TO WHITTIER.
Some Effective Side-LiShts Thrown on the
Character of the Poet.
The memory of a visit to Amesbury,
made once in September, wildly re-
mains with me. 1t was early in the
month. when the lingering heat OF
summer seems sometimes to gather
fresh intensity from the fact that we
are SO soon to hear the winds of au-
tumn.
Amesbury had greatly altered of late
years; ''large enough to be a city, our
friend declared; but I am not. fat
enough to be an alderman. TO us 1t
was still a small village, though some
what dustier and less attractive than
when we first knew it.
AS we approached the house we saw
him from a distance Enthusiastically
gazing down the road for us, from his
front yard, AID then at the first glimpse
suddenly disappearing, to come forth
again to meet us, quite fresh and quiet,
from his front door. It had been a
very hot, dry summer, and everything g
about that place, as 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 leafiess trees,
and the soft thud of the pears and ap-
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 nto 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 dircc-
ton Altogether, as Whittier said.
quantity, cit was very encouragi ging
weather for the Millerites''
His niece, who bears the name
of his beloved sister, was then
the mistress of his home, and
were soon made heartily well
come inside the house, where every
thing was plain and neat, as became a
Friends household; but the village
had grown to be stirring place. and
the house stood close upon the dusty
road, such charming neatneSS .-ifGEt
sometimes have been Il difficult achieve
ment The MONDAY meal was soon
served and soon ended, AID then we sat
down behind the half closed blinds,
looking out upon the garden, the faded
vines and almost 1cafiess trees 1t was
a cozy room, with its Franklin stove,
at this season surmountcd by a bou-
quet. and a ia BILE between the windows,
Whittier himself had gathered that
morning in anticipation of our arrival.
He had seemed brighter and better than
we had dared to hope, and was in ex-
cellent mood for talking. Referring
again to the NIillcrites, who had been
so terminated by the mists, he said he
had been deeply Impressed lately with
their deplorabl doctrines. "Continu-
ally disappointed because we don't all
burn upon a sudden. they forget to be
thankful for their preservation from
the dire ia te they predict with SO much
complacency.
He had just received proof of his
poem, ''Miriam,' with the introduction,
and he could not be content until they
had been read aloud to him. After the
reading they were duly commented up
and revised until he thought he
could do no more, yet twice before our
departure the proofs were taken out of
the handbag, where they were safely
slowed away, and again more or less
altered.
Whittier's ever growing fame was not
taken by him as a matter Of course. 81
can not think very we'll of my own
things he used to say; ''and what is
mere fame worth when thee is at home
alone, and sick with headaches, unable
either to read or to write?'' Neverthe-
less he derived very great pleasure and
con sola ton from the letters and trib-
utes which ponred in upon him from
hearts he had touched or lives he had
quickened That 1 like he would
say; "that is worth having" But he
must often have known the deeps of
trou BILE in winter evenings when he
was too ill to touch book or pen, and
when he could do nothing during the
long hours but sit and think over the
fire.
We slept in Elizabeth's chamber
The portrait of their mother, framed in
autumn leaves gathered in the last aut-
umn of her life, hung upon the wall.
Here, too, as in our bed room at Dick
ems. the diary of Pepys lay on the
table. Dickens had read his copy faith
fully and written notes therein. OF
this copy the leaves had not been cut,
but with it lay the ''Prayers of the
Age" and volumes of poems which had
all been we'll read and ''PiclSwiclz'' up
on the top.-Annie Field, in Uarpers
ANIMALS IN WET WEATHER.
IN H. ITnI,Ff