Norwich bulletin., 1916-09-23
A NEW ENGLAND CHILDHOOD

and under the same skies as did the gifted man whom she aided in his most important literary work, it is logical that she should manifest a rare understanding of his nature and child-soul, as she tells for the edifica- tion and instruction of interested readers the tale of his life's unfolding.
 Edmund Clarence Stedman was not born in Norwich, as some have sup posed. He was native of Hartford, born Oct. 8th, 1883, and he was bap- tized in the North Congregational church by no less a parsonage than for the early years of his babyhood he tried zealously to copy in his ways and "pweachin'''
 His mother was a mere baby her self; a butterfly lady prone to write poetry, and depending helpless1y upon her grave, earnest husband to fend her from every earthly care. Edmund worsh1pped Eis mother, somewhat frivolous though she was; and all the best impulses and ambitions of his life he attributed to her influence, words and admonitions.
 He was but a mere baby when his father became i'll, so that he was obliged to take 8 sea voyage in the
 hope of restoring his health- Before sailing, the dying man talked earn estly to the baby boy, winning the latter's promise never to grieve or neglect or forget his mothers delicacy of nature and of tastes. Throughout the boys life this promise was kept with a fidelity almost tear-inciting, in it's contrast to the motherss selfish ness and fragrant neglect ofNthe little lad; but perhaps it was the very force needed to give his character that sweetness which was it's charm. lis father died before returning to Hartford; and shortly afterwards, Edmund was taken to the home of his i mothers parents, in Plainf1e1d, N. J. | Much has been written about the severity of New England households during that era; but nothing in this | line could surpass the harsh, cold | home at Grangfather Dodge's, where he received so much and so severe re- 1 ligious training and literal, Pauline stripes and fastings' that it is a
 wonder he did not eventually become l an out-and-out atheisti
 1 His first sense of that rhyme des- l tined in after years to inspire him to 1 write poems which have a permanent | place in American literature is detail- | ed by his biographer in a most anus 1 ing way.
 l hearthungry little lad was his grand 1 fathers delight; and on a certain | Sabbath, glancing benignly about the family circle, he inquired majestically l What is the chief end of man?" | Now that very day young Edmund 1 query, but with what he considered an l improved version as the answer, clip 1 ped from some newspaper and pasted
 on a wall. Consequently when Grand
 father Dodge propounded the ques- | tion, Edmund's eyes flashed and he | was ready with the new answer: l ITO keep all he gets and to get all he can."
 Grandfather Dodge grew stony ir | horror and consternation. The friv- l olous, possessed Satan lad was | locked up in the boot closet until Sab- i bath evening, when he was soundly l trounced, although it was his tender hearted mother who sobbed: the child 1 was mindful of his fathers admoni-
 tionsr and would not grieve her by
 crying. He did manage, however during, one unusually hard blow, tc
 bring up his heel with such true ain
 as to knock off Grandfather's specs
 which were broken past mending! Later, the boy was sent by stage
 coach, railroad train and horse cal
 
 finally to the home of his uncle James
 at Norwich Town. Once, grieving fol
 his self -ceHtered mother, he ran away
 down to 'The Landing, told a tipsy
 skipper, captain of the schooner Am
 and Emily that he was trying to worl
 his passage to his widowed mother il
 their home in Newark, and was taker l aboard, signing up as Henry Wilson. | Upon hearing the captain begin cer tain sentences with the expression 4s person about his opinions on confer
 ence meeting and silent prayer in !, most perplexing way. The schoone 1 went on the flats near ThamesvilIe 1. and Uncle James, discovering tn abrupt getaway of his lively nephew quickly pursued him in a slliff, over hauled the schooner and captured tn prodigal.
 Delightful days were those he spen about the old Green, at the bricl school-house, in the old Academy b. the brook In Lowthrope Meadows | even in the ancient burying ground where he used to tell the boys sucl ghost stories as set their blood a curdling. Bye and bye his vain moth l CT married again; and her son sa proudly on the counter at Fuller store and told of his new father wondrous wealth, his mothers un . matched beauty and other family af 2 fairs. Later the step-father was ap pointed United States Minister t s Italy; the family sailed away, an once again Edmund was separate . from the mother whom he adored. l But the story ends happily; fo :. after his college years at Yale, hi time spent in the office of The Nor v wieh Courier-now the weekly editio $ of The Bulletin-+his short editorshi , of the Norwich Tribune which die ! i young, and his later years of succes
 in New York, Fate brought his mothe - back to him, a widow now. and cure :, of some of her egoisrn.
 2 It is fascinating picture whic $ Miss Fuller draws of the grown u I. boy, still with a boys laughter and boys heart, enjoying that compan : iorship for which his heart eve , hungered, and for which even his mar i riage with the sweetheart of his youn q manhood did not cause him to ceas n to yearn.
 = THE DICTAGRAPH. LETTERS TO THE EDITOF f@n D.s~