BRYANT 
 
 
 
 HAWTHORNE 
 
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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
Young Folk's Library of Choice Literature 
 
 Stories of 
 
 Our Authors 
 
 HOLMES— LONGFELLOW— HAWTHORNE 
 BRYANT— LOWELL— ALCOTT 
 
 HATTIE E. MACOMBER 
 
 EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 New York Chicago San Francisco 
 
THE LIBRARY OF 
 CONGRESS, 
 
 T^«o Copies Received 
 
 JUN. 6 1902 
 
 OPVniOHT ENTRY 
 
 o. No 
 
 COPY B. 
 
 f^^^ 
 
 y\^ 
 
 Copyrighted 
 
 By educational PUBLISHLVG COMPANY. 
 
 1898. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes .... 7 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ... 41 
 
 Nathaniel Hawthorne . . ... 83 
 
 William Cullen Bryant . . , . loi 
 
 James Russell Lowell . . . , . 127 
 
 Louisa Alcott . . , . , , 151 
 
'^^•^■■^' 
 
 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 " Lives of great men all remind us 
 We can make our lives sublime." 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 There are all kinds of great men. 
 
 There have been great heroes famed for 
 their bravery. 
 
 Great patriots have served their country. 
 
 And there are great musicians, great 
 scientists, and an innumerable host of others 
 deserving to be called great. 
 
 But why should we call a poet great ? 
 
 It is easy to understand why others deserve 
 the title of greatness. 
 
 But does a poet, a person who has a cunning 
 sense of rhyme, and a talent for putting into 
 
 7 
 
8 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 rhyme enough reason to attract readers, 
 deserve to be called great ? 
 
 Let us think about it. 
 
 Does a poet need to do anything more than 
 make rhymes? 
 
 Oh, yes ! the poet sees all the world through 
 magic spectacles. 
 
 Most people are blind to much of the 
 beauty which a poet sees. 
 
 And a poet must first have beautiful 
 thoughts before he can write them. 
 
 So, in a world where everyone is so busy 
 how much the poets have helped people to 
 better and higher thoughts. 
 
 And this poet of whom you are to read, 
 could more than picture the good, the true, 
 and the beautiful. 
 
 He could make people laugh. 
 
 Who was it who said, '' A laugh is worth a 
 hundred groans in any market." 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 9 
 
 So, when Oliver Wendell Holmes made 
 people laugh, he surely made the world better. 
 
 And you should know, just here, this about 
 the poet. 
 
 Though he lived a long life, and made jokes 
 as long as he lived, he never made one which 
 hurt a fellow human-being. 
 
 His fun was of the kind which even the 
 person laughed at could enjoy. 
 
 And now let us take a peep at his early life. 
 
 In Cambridge, Massachusetts, there once 
 stood the gabrel-roofed house, where this poet 
 was born. 
 
 This house had been a General's head- 
 quarters at the beginning of the Revolution. 
 
 The tall form of General Washington was 
 probably often seen there. 
 
 This house was opposite the buildings of 
 Harvard University. 
 
10 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 Dr. Holmes once said : " In the last week of 
 August used to fall Commencement Day at 
 Cambridge. 
 
 '* I remember that week well, for something 
 happened to me once at that time; namely, 
 I was born." 
 
 The year 1809, in which Oliver Wendell 
 Holmes was born, was also the birth-year of 
 Gladstone, Tennyson, Darwin and Lincoln. 
 
 Dr. Holmes's father was a minister. 
 
 His mother's girlhood name was Sarah 
 Wendell. 
 
 He was brought up, he says, in a library. 
 
 There he bumped about among books from 
 the time when he was hardly taller than one 
 of his father's or grandfather's folios. 
 
 Like other boys of his time, he was sent 
 first to a dame's school. 
 
 From ten to fifteen years of age he was in 
 Cambridge. 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. U 
 
 Then he went to Phillips Academy at 
 Andover. 
 
 There he formed a friendship for a lad 
 named Phineas Barnes. 
 
 This friendship lasted until the death of 
 Phineas. 
 
 There have been few of the stories of his 
 childhood kept. 
 
 He himself tells that he was once feruled. 
 
 He must have been a pretty good boy to 
 have been whipped but once in those days 
 when whipping was the fashion. 
 
 In 1815 came the news that a treaty of 
 peace had been signed in Europe between the 
 Americans and British. 
 
 This news is among the earliest recollections 
 of Dr. Holmes. 
 
 He was coming from the dame's school 
 when he heard the news. 
 
12 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 He threw up his *'jocky" as the other boys 
 did. 
 
 He shouted '' Hoo-raw for Anleriky ! " 
 
 What made him most glad was not the 
 news, but that he was told he might sit up 
 that night as long as he chose. 
 
 But it was hardly eight o'clock when he 
 *' struck his colors " and gladly went off to 
 bed. 
 
 Some boys and girls will be glad to know 
 that even a great man may be afraid in the 
 dark. 
 
 Wendell Holmes had two dreads. 
 
 One was a midnight visitor. 
 
 The other was a visit from the doctor. 
 
 He didn't quite believe in ghosts. 
 
 But strange sounds at night, the creaking of 
 boards, the howling winds, the footfalls of 
 animals heard from a distance, kept him 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 13 
 
 awake, and brought him unpleasant feelings. 
 
 He never explored the garret as a boy. 
 
 There was an old building near by filled 
 with old and broken furniture. 
 
 This he shunned as if it had been " filled 
 with living bipeds and quadrupeds." 
 
 As he grew older he became ashamed of 
 such feelings. 
 
 But he once said, ''To this day I fear a 
 solitary house. 
 
 '' And I would not sleep alone in it for the 
 fee of the whole farm." 
 
 These fears of his were caused by foolish 
 stories told him in his childhood by servants. 
 
 The doctor, whose visits he dreaded, gave 
 him rhubarb and ipecac. 
 
 These visits and the having his teeth drawn 
 were his greatest childhood troubles. 
 
 His father often exchanged pulpits with the 
 ministers of other towns. 
 
14 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 Wendell was fond of going with him at 
 such times. 
 
 He was fond of contriving things. 
 
 But he said he was generally in too much of 
 a hurry to do things well. 
 
 Before he had any skates he made a wooden 
 one to experiment with. 
 
 With this he went skating over the frozen 
 ditches on one foot. 
 
 He often went hunting, too, for birds and 
 squirrels, carrying an old flint lock like those 
 our grandfathers used in the Revolution. 
 
 This is the poet's story of his hunting : 
 
 " An old king's arm had been hanging up in 
 the store closet ever since I could remember. 
 This I shouldered, and blazed away at every 
 living thing that was worthy the smallest 
 shot I -could employ." 
 
 His father's library contained between one 
 thousand and two thousand books. 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 15 
 
 These were a great pleasure to him. 
 
 He read in many books, but didn't make a 
 business of reading each book through. 
 
 A sermon was about the only thing which 
 he disliked reading. 
 
 He heard plenty of those from the pulpit. 
 
 Once Wendell paid ten cents for a peep 
 through a telescope on the Common. 
 
 He saw the transit of Venus. 
 
 He said that his whole idea of creation 
 changed from that moment. 
 
 He began to think of the other worlds 
 beside our own. 
 
 And his boyish heart was filled with 
 thoughts of a great universe, of which the 
 earth is only a little, little part. 
 
 Cambridge, where he lived, is a beautiful 
 place only three miles from Boston. 
 
 It is particularly noted for its beautiful elm 
 trees. 
 
WASHINGTON ELM. 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 17 
 
 It was under one of these trees that Wash- 
 ington took command of the American army. 
 
 This tree, and many others equally beauti- 
 ful, could be seen from the " gabrel-roofed 
 house." 
 
 Perhaps it was because these grand trees 
 surrounded his childhood home that Dr. 
 Holmes loved trees all his life. 
 
 His first poem is said to have been written 
 about a tree. 
 
 A little boy named James had planted a 
 wallow twig in his father's garden. 
 
 The twig took root and grew. 
 
 James lived long enough to call it his tree. 
 
 It was after his death that Wendell Holmes, 
 then but seventeen years of age, wrote a poem 
 called " James's Tree." 
 
 It was published in the Youths Companion. 
 
 Dr. Holmes said of it, '' I took the printed 
 
18 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 copy containing it from the postoffice, peeped 
 within, and then walked home on air. 
 
 '' I have seen my work in type since until I 
 am sick of the sight of it, but I can never 
 forget the great joy of that occasion." 
 
 Dr. Holmes carried in his pocket a tape 
 thirty-two feet in length, which he actually 
 wore to shreds measuring the trunks of trees. 
 
 Perhaps it vv^as because he was such a little 
 man that he loved great trees. 
 
 He wrote for his friend, Phineas Barnes, 
 this description of himself. 
 
 ** I, then, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Junior in 
 Harvard, am a plumeless biped of the height of 
 exactly five feet, three inches, when standing in 
 a pair of substantial boots made by Mr. Russell 
 of this town ; having eyes which I call blue, — 
 and hair which I do not know what to call." 
 
 Mr. Holmes graduated from Harvard 
 University in 1829. 
 
OLIVEE WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 One of his classmates was Mr. S. T. Smith, 
 who wrote the hymn so dear to us all, — 
 ** America." 
 
 Mr. Holmes's first published poems were in 
 a college paper. 
 
 And for many years he wrote class poems 
 for the yearly re-union of his class. 
 
 Indeed, he did this until there were too few 
 of the class left to make the meeting pleasant. 
 
 When this young man was ready to choose 
 his life work, he found it a hard thing to 
 do. 
 
 He first tried to study law, but gave it up 
 and began the study of medicine. 
 
 In 1833, he went to the beautiful French 
 city, Paris, to continue his study of medicine. 
 
 There he spent a number of years in hard 
 study. 
 
 He learned to love Paris. 
 
20 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 He learned to speak the French language 
 almost as well as his own. 
 
 Sometimes he took journeys through 
 different parts of Europe. 
 
 One of these journeys was upon the Rhine. 
 
 Dr. Holmes returned home in the autumn of 
 
 1835- 
 
 He began the practice of medicine. 
 
 His heart was so tender that the sight of 
 sick people made him sad and troubled. 
 
 The pale faces of the sick in hospitals 
 haunted him. 
 
 In 1836, his first volume of poems was 
 published. 
 
 In this volume were the poems, ''Old Iron- 
 sides," and '' The Last Leaf." 
 
 Read them both. 
 
 "Old Ironsides" is about a ship, — the 
 Constitution. 
 
OLIVER WKNDELL HOLMES. 21 
 
 This vessel had won many sea-battles and 
 had captured many British ships. 
 
 Because of these victories she was well 
 known and very much loved by the people. 
 
 She had been launched in 1797. 
 
 And in 1833 she was pronounced unsea- 
 worthy. 
 
 It was decided to destroy her. 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes read of this inten- 
 tion in a newspaper. 
 
 He thought it would be a shame. 
 
 So he sat down then and there, and with a 
 pencil, on some scraps of paper, wrote this 
 poem, and sent it to a paper to be published. 
 
OLD IRONSIDES. 
 
 ' Ay, tear her tattered ensign down ! 
 
 Long has it waved on high, 
 And many an eye has danced to see 
 
 That banner in the sky ; 
 Beneath it rung the battle shout. 
 
 And burst the cannon's roar: — 
 The meteor of the ocean air 
 
 Shall sweep the clouds no more ! 
 
 Her deck, once red with heroes blood. 
 
 Where knelt the vanquished foe, 
 When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, 
 
 And waves were white below, 
 No more shall feel the victor's tread, 
 
 Or know the conquered knee ; — 
 The harpies of the shore shall pluck 
 
 The eagle of the sea ! 
 
 O, better that her tattered hulk 
 
 Should sink beneath the wave ; 
 Her thunders shook the mighty deep, 
 
 And there should be her grave ; 
 Nail to the mast her holy flag, 
 
 Set every threadbare sail, 
 And give her to the god of storms, 
 
 The lightning and the gale ! " 
 
24 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 This poem traveled fast and far. 
 
 It was printed on handbills and scattered 
 through the streets of Washington. 
 
 Everybody was indignant at the thought of 
 destroying this good old ship. 
 
 And at length, because of the feeling, the 
 old Constitution was saved. 
 
 She was thoroughly repaired and put to sea 
 again. 
 
 And many years of glory have since been 
 hers. 
 
 Dr. Holmes also wrote medical essays, which 
 have done much good. 
 
 And if he had done nothing more to make 
 the world better, these would entitle him to a 
 place among great men. 
 
 In 1840, he married and made for himself a 
 home. 
 
 Mrs. Holmes is said to have possessed 
 every good trait known. 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 2o 
 
 They had three children, two sons and a 
 daughter. 
 
 The eldest son, Oliver Wendell, Jr., was 
 three times wounded in the Civil War. 
 
 Once the wound was in his heel. 
 
 He came home to get well again. 
 
 A piece of carrot was placed in the wound 
 to keep it from healing too fast. 
 
 Dr. Holmes, in treating the wound, touched 
 the carrot and made Oliver, Jr. start with pain. 
 
 The Doctor asked his son to tell him into 
 what he had changed his vegetable. 
 
 Of course he didn't know. 
 
 << Why, into a pa's nip (parsnip)," said the 
 witty doctor. 
 
 The doctor's second son died when but a 
 young man. 
 
 Among Dr. Holmes's friends were Long- 
 fellow, Motley and Mrs. Stowe. 
 
BIRTHPLACE OF HOLMES, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 27 
 
 His old home, the gambrel-roofed house, 
 was torn down. 
 
 He wrote to Mr. Lowell : '* Our old home is 
 gone. I went all over it, — into every 
 chamber and closet, and found a ghost in each 
 and all of them, to which I said good bye. 
 
 ** Be very thankful that you still keep your 
 birthplace. 
 
 "This earth has a homeless look to me since 
 mine has disappeared from its face." 
 
 Dr. Holmes was unfortunate in seeing his 
 home destroyed. 
 
 When he was married he bought a home in 
 Boston. 
 
 But business came too near and he removed 
 to another street. 
 
 When he found workmen tearing the other 
 house down, he said, '' We Americans live in 
 tents." 
 
28 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 Afterwards he had a home on Charles 
 Street, with a beautiful outlook over the 
 Charles River. 
 
 But business drove him from that 
 place. 
 
 He now moved to Beacon Street, where 
 he resided until his death. 
 
 Dr. Holmes was very fond of Nature. 
 
 He owned a beautiful country place at 
 Pittsfield. 
 
 There he spent seven summers. 
 
 This place of 280 acres had been purchased 
 from the Indians by the state. 
 
 The great grandfather of Dr. Holmes 
 bought it from the state. 
 
 It was called, '' Canoe Meadows." 
 
 Dr. Holmes said that from its windows 
 might be seen wonderful things among the 
 mountains. 
 
OLIVER WENDELL FTOLMES. 29 
 
 He could see a lion rampant, a Shanghai 
 chicken, and General Jackson on horseback. 
 
 These were done by green leaves, each by a 
 single tree. 
 
 Dr. Holmes sold this place and bought 
 another. 
 
 That place was called Beverly Farms. 
 
 It is on the north shore of Massachusetts 
 Bay. 
 
 Dr. Holmes became a professor in Harvard 
 University. 
 
 He lectured to young students who intended 
 to be physicians. 
 
 They came to him after listening many 
 hours to other lectures. 
 
 Of course they were very tired. 
 
 But Dr. Holmes was a wonderful talker. 
 
 He could make them interested no matter 
 how tired they were. 
 
30 OLIVER VVKNDELL HOLMES. 
 
 At one time a gentleman drew at a fair an 
 autograph album. 
 
 On its leaves were painted beautiful flowers 
 and foliage. 
 
 The owner passed the book to Mr. Long- 
 fellow, Mr. Emerson, Dr. Holmes and others 
 who were present, requesting their autographs. 
 
 Each selected one of the beautiful pages. 
 
 Dr. Holmes selected a page containing a 
 cluster of autumn leaves. 
 
 He wrote these lines: — 
 
 ** Who that can pluck the flower would chose the weed, 
 Leave the sweet rose and gather blooms less fair? 
 And who my homely verse shall stay to read, 
 Straying enchanted through this bright parterre, 
 Where morning's herald lifts his purple bell 
 And spring's young violet woes the wanderer's eye? 
 Nay, let me seek the falling leaves that tell 
 Of beggared winter's footsteps drawing nigh ; 
 There shall my shred of song unshrouded lie, 
 A leaf that dropped in memory's flowery dell ; 
 The breath of friendship stirred it, and it fell 
 Tinged with the loving hue of Autumn's fond farewell." 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 31 
 
 You have known of the magazine called the 
 Atlantic Monthly. 
 
 Its first editor was the poet, James Russell 
 Lowell. 
 
 He asked Dr. Holmes to name the 
 magazine. 
 
 And he it was who called it the '' Atlantic." 
 
 It was to this magazine that Dr. Holmes 
 sent his work for long, long years. 
 
 In its pages were printed the wise sayings of 
 the '* Autocrat of the Breakfast Table." 
 
 So well did people like it that Dr. Holmes 
 came to be called the Autocrat. 
 
 You will often hear him called that even 
 now. 
 
 It was his nom de plume, or name of his 
 pen. 
 
 He wrote, too, some stories. 
 
 One was called '' Elsie Venner." 
 
32 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 Another was '' The Guardian Angel." 
 
 You will like to know this poet's favorite 
 poem. 
 
 Perhaps it is your favorite, too. 
 
 It is the '' Chambered Nautilus." 
 
 The Nautilus is a little sea creature. 
 
 It lives in a queer shell. 
 
 New chambers grow as it needs them. 
 
 So it constantly has new rooms to live in as 
 it grows. 
 
 This makes a shell spiral in shape. 
 
 Dr. Holmes found a lesson for our lives in 
 this queer shell. 
 
 So he wrote the lesson into this beautiful 
 poem of '' The Chambered Nautilus." 
 
 Dr. Holmes has written a poem about one 
 of his grandmothers. 
 
 A nephew of the poet had a little daughter. 
 
 They called her Dorothy Q. Upham, after 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 33 
 
 the well-known Dorothy Q. of the Doctor's 
 poem. 
 
 Dr. Holmes was always a very busy man. 
 
 Many strangers wrote letters to him. 
 
 They wanted all sorts of things. 
 
 But oftenest they wanted his advice about 
 trying to write books. 
 
 The good Doctor answered every letter 
 kindly, though it grew to be a great task. 
 
 He was such a pleasant companion that he 
 was wanted at many social affairs. 
 
 He could not attend all, though he enjoyed 
 society greatly. 
 
 But here is a case where he made people 
 laugh even though far away. 
 
 Once a club in San Francisco voted Dr. 
 Holmes a member. 
 
 They sent him a telegram which reached 
 him at dead of night. 
 
34 OLIVER AVENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 No reply was expected. 
 
 The people of the club were greatly aston- 
 ished at receiving a despatch before their 
 meeting adjourned. 
 
 This was the message : — 
 
 " Message from San Francisco ! Whisper low — 
 Asleep in bed an hour or more ago, 
 While on the peaceful pillow he reclines 
 Say to his friend who sent these loving lines 
 Silent, unanswering, still to friendship true, 
 He smiles in slumber for he dreams of you." 
 
 Dr. Holmes was fond of receiving letters. 
 
 He said to a lady correspondent: ''There is 
 something in a live letter, just from the mail, 
 like a hot cake just from the griddle. A book 
 can give much, but the hot cake and the warm 
 letter have a charm all their own." 
 
 So this dear poet of ours spent his years. 
 
 Though he cheered the world with many a 
 laugh, he did more than that. 
 
 He wrote much that made the world better 
 in other ways. 
 
OLIVER WENDKLL HOLMES. 35 
 
 He wrote very carefully and consulted many 
 books. 
 
 He was very particular about the language 
 in his writings. 
 
 He won praise from the printers for his 
 careful copies. 
 
 Indeed, he did nothing carelessly. 
 
 Dr. Holmes was fond of other things besides 
 medicine and writing. 
 
 He was fond of inventing. 
 
 He invented a valuable physician's instru- 
 ment. 
 
 He took out no patent for this invention. 
 
 Had he done so he might have been a rich 
 man. 
 
 He loved fine horses and knew all about 
 their good points. 
 
 He tried bringing out the music hidden in a 
 violin. 
 
36 OLIVER WENDELL IKn.MES. 
 
 He tried photography and was quite 
 successful with it. 
 
 His knowledge of trees became so great that 
 he was consulted by the great botanist, 
 Professor Gray. 
 
 He became proficient in the use of the 
 microscope. 
 
 It was when using this instrument that he 
 discovered a trouble with his eyes. 
 
 A growth, called cataract, threatened to 
 make him blind. 
 
 But this sad thing never happened, though 
 his sight became dimmed. 
 
 Dr. Holmes had a great love for Boston. 
 
 He had spent nearly all his life there. 
 
 In 1886 he took a trip to Europe. 
 
 His daughter, Mrs. Sargent, was with him. 
 
 Many honors were given him there. 
 
 He visited the great University at Oxford. 
 
OLIVP^H WENDELL HOLMES. 87 
 
 Some saucy students in the gallery inquired 
 if he came in the '' One-Hoss-Shay." 
 
 But Dr. Holmes enjoyed a joke even when 
 at his expense. 
 
 The students liked him. 
 
 You will enjoy reading " The One-Hoss- 
 Shay." 
 
 In 1 87 1 he wrote the '' Poet at the Breakfast 
 Table." 
 
 But it was in his old age, in 1888, that he 
 wrote " Over the Teacups." 
 
 This is considered a wonderful thing for so 
 old a man to do. 
 
 But Dr. Holmes seems hardly to have 
 grown old. 
 
 Age came on him so slowly, and he was so 
 bright and active, that even his friends hardly 
 realized his many years. 
 
 He died in his chair, painlessly, Oct. 7, 1894. 
 
THE DORCHESTER GIANT. 
 
 There was a gianc in time of old, 
 
 A mighty one was he ; 
 He had a wife, but she was a scold, 
 So he kept her shut in his mammoth fold ; 
 
 And he had children three. 
 
 It happened to be an election day, 
 
 And the giants were choosing a king; 
 The people were not democrats then, 
 They did not talk of the rights of men, 
 And all that sort of thing. 
 
 Then the giant took his children three 
 
 And fastened them in the pen ; 
 The children roared ; quoth the giant, " Be still ! " 
 And Dorchester Heights and Milton Hill 
 
 Rolled back the sound again. 
 
 Then he brought them a pudding stuffed with plums 
 As big as the State-House dome ; 
 
 Quoth he, ''There's something for you to eat; 
 
 So stop your mouth with your 'lection treat, 
 And wait till your dad comes home." 
 
 So the giant pulled him a chestnut stout, ' 
 
 And whittled the boughs away ; 
 The boys and their mother set up a shout, 
 Said he, "You're in, and you can't get out, 
 
 Bellow as loud as you may." 
 
 ;:]8 
 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 39 
 
 Off he went, and he growled a tune 
 
 As he strode the fields along; 
 'Tis said a buffalo fainted away, 
 And fell as cold as a lump of clay, 
 
 When he heard the giant's song. 
 
 But whether the story's true or not. 
 
 It is not for me to show; 
 There's many a thing that's twice as queer 
 In somebody's lectures that we hear, 
 
 And those are true, you know. 
 
 What are those lone ones doing now. 
 
 The wife and the children sad ? 
 O ! thty are in a terrible rout, 
 Screaming and throwing their pudding about, 
 
 Acting PS they were mad. 
 
 They flung it over to Roxbury hills, 
 
 They flung it over the plain, 
 And all over Milton and Dorchester too 
 Great lumps of pudding the giants threw ; 
 
 They tumbled as thick as rain. 
 
 Giant and mammoth have passed away. 
 
 For ages have floated by ; 
 The suet is hard as a marrow bone, 
 And every plum is turned to a stone, 
 
 But there the puddings lie. 
 
 And if, some pleasant afternoon, 
 
 You'll ask me out to ride, 
 The whole of the story I will tell. 
 And you shall see where the puddings fell, 
 
 And pay for the punch beside. 
 
Ji 
 
 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
Ienry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
 
 Upon the eastern shores of our country lies 
 a fair city. 
 
 This is Portland in the state of Maine. 
 
 It is built upon a peninsula and looks down 
 upon the beautiful waters of a bay. 
 
 Far in the distance is Mount Washington. 
 
 The streets of the city are shaded with great 
 elm trees. 
 
 The cool sea-breezes are ever active in 
 driving away the heat of summer. 
 
 4i 
 
42 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Here was' born, February 27, 1807, the poet 
 Longfellow. 
 
 He was named for his mother's brother, 
 whose name was Henry Wadsworth. 
 
 This young man had given his life to his 
 country's service. 
 
 He was in the United States navy on board 
 the ship, Intrepid. 
 
 They were far away upon the northern coast 
 of Africa. 
 
 Rather than be taken by the enemy, this 
 ship was blown to pieces by the crew. 
 
 And among others, Henry Wadsworth 
 perished with the good ship. 
 
 Henry Longfellow's father was a lawyer. 
 
 He was a man greatly honored by all who 
 knew him. 
 
 His mother, too, was a woman of noble 
 character. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 43 
 
 Henry was the second son in a family of 
 four sons and four daughters. 
 
 The earliest mention of the poet is in a letter 
 which his mother wrote to a friend when he 
 was but eight months old. 
 
 '' I think you would like my little Henry W. 
 He is an active rogue and wishes for nothing 
 so much as for singing, or dancing." 
 
 When he was five years of age, people were 
 talking much about a war with England. 
 
 His aunt wrote: *' Our little Henry is ready 
 to march ; he had his tin gun prepared and 
 his head powdered a week ago." 
 
 The next time we hear of him, he has given 
 up his warlike playthings for a pen. 
 
 He sent this message: — 
 
 '' Oh, tell papa I am writing at school — a, 
 b, c ; and send my love to him, and I hope he 
 will bring me a drum." 
 
44 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 This is the first letter he wrote : 
 
 Portland. 
 
 Dear Papa, — " Ann wants a little Bible 
 like Betsey's. Will you please buy her one if 
 you can find any in Boston ? I have been at 
 school all the week, and got only seven marks. 
 I shall have a billet on Monday. I wish you 
 would buy me a drum." 
 
 Henry W. Longfellow. 
 
 His father wrote him a pleasant letter in 
 reply. 
 
 Once Henry lamed his elbow in turning a 
 somersault when coming out of school. 
 
 He. had to carry his arm in a sling. 
 
 By all this you will see he was a boy like 
 other boys. 
 
 He is remembered by those who knew him 
 as a lively boy. 
 
 His hair was of a chestnut brown colon 
 
LONGFELLOW. 45 
 
 His cheeks were rosy. 
 
 He was very active and enjoyed all sorts of 
 play. 
 
 Sometimes he was impatient. 
 
 And he had what is called a quick temper. 
 
 But he was kind hearted and affectionate. 
 
 He loved neatness and order. 
 
 He was true, highminded and noble. 
 
 He could not endure injustice to any one. 
 
 He was industrious, and did with all his 
 might whatever he undertook. 
 
 Unlike most boys, he did not enjoy the racket 
 of a Fourth of July. 
 
 Once he begged to have cotton in his 
 ears, to deaden the sound of the cannon. 
 
 Some one accused him of being afraid. 
 
 This he indignantly denied. 
 
 But he thoroughly enjoyed ball, kite-flying, 
 swimming, snowballing, coasting and skating. 
 
46 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 With his brother Stephen he made many 
 excursions through the woods. 
 
 Stephen was fond of a gun. 
 
 But once Henry shot a robin. 
 
 He came home with his eyes filled with 
 tears, and never went hunting again. 
 
 Sometimes circuses came to Portland. 
 
 These boys were fond of attending such 
 shows. 
 
 Afterwards they came home and performed 
 before an audience consisting of their sisters. 
 
 Henry had a rocking-horse. 
 
 He was once riding this so boldly that 
 horse and rider fell together. 
 
 The neck of the poor horse was broken. 
 
 There were many kinds of books in his 
 home. 
 
 And there was a good library in Portland. 
 
 So this boy read much. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 47 
 
 The first book with which he became familiar 
 was the ''Sketch Book." 
 
 This was written by Washington Irving. 
 
 On Sundays the children went to '' meeting " 
 twice a day. 
 
 There were no Sunday-schools then. 
 
 But on Sunday afternoons Mrs. Longfellow 
 gathered her children about her. 
 
 Together they read in the Bible and en- 
 joyed the talks about it. 
 
 The evenings were spent in the family 
 sitting-room. 
 
 The children gathered about the table with 
 their books and slates. 
 
 Everything was quiet until lessons were 
 done. 
 
 Then there were games until bedtime. 
 
 Then they went to bed-rooms, which were 
 never warmed. 
 
48 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Often in the morning they broke the ice in 
 the pitchers to obtain water for washing. 
 
 Henry's school Hfe began when he was but 
 three years of age. 
 
 He went to a lady's school and learned his 
 letters. 
 
 Afterwards he attended several schools. 
 
 While at the academy he one day brought 
 home this note, signed by his teacher: 
 
 '' Master Henry Longfellow is one of the 
 best boys we have in school. He spells and 
 reads very well. He can also add and mul- 
 tiply numbers. His conduct last quarter was 
 very correct and amiable. June 30, 18 13." 
 
 The vacations were often spent at the 
 grandfather's. 
 
 There the boys played they were farmers. 
 
 They followed the mowers. 
 
 They went after the cows in the evening. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 49 
 
 They picked the sweet, wild strawberries. 
 
 And how interested they were in the diary ! 
 
 The cheese-making and butter-making were 
 full of mystery to them. 
 
 Then in-doors how delightful to watch the 
 spinning ! 
 
 Sometimes they went to see Grandfather 
 Wadsworth. 
 
 He was their mother's father and lived 
 farther away. 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth dressed in the fashion of 
 the days of long ago. 
 
 He had been a soldier and still carried 
 himself like one. 
 
 He wore a bright scarlet coat, a buff vest, 
 full ruffled shirt bosom, ruffles over his hands, 
 knee breeches, white stockings, and shoes with 
 silver buckles. 
 
 His hair was powdered and tied in a knot 
 upon his shoulders. 
 
50 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 The boys were never tired of listening to 
 the General's story of his capture by the 
 British, his imprisonment and escape. 
 
 Near the home of this grandfather was a 
 small lake, called Lovell's Pond. 
 
 It had once been the scene of a fight with 
 the Indians. 
 
 Henry was much interested in the story. 
 
 And in November of 1820 there were some 
 verses printed in a Portland newspaper. 
 
 Their title was " The Battle of Lovell's 
 Pond." 
 
 They were signed '' Henry." 
 
 These were the first verses written by the 
 poet. 
 
 He told no one but his favorite sister about 
 them. 
 
 They were very anxious to see the paper. 
 
 One cold November evening, when the 
 
LONGFELLOW. 51 
 
 paper was being printed, Henry stood outside 
 the windows and watched the printers. 
 
 He was afraid to go in. 
 
 Their father received his paper and unfolded 
 it slowly. 
 
 He held it before the fire to dry the still 
 damp sheet. 
 
 Slowly he read it through. 
 
 Patiently the children waited. 
 
 But he said nothing about the verses. 
 
 Perhaps he didn't see them. 
 
 The children kept their secret. 
 
 But when they could get the paper, how 
 great was their delight ! 
 
 The poem was there. 
 
 In the evening Henry went with his father 
 to the home of a judge, his father's friend. 
 
 The Judge took up the morning paper. 
 
 *' Did you see this piece in today's paper?" 
 
52 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 he said. ''Very stiff, remarkably stiff; more- 
 over it is all borrowed, every word of it." 
 
 Poor Henry's heart sank. 
 
 He left the house as soon as possible. 
 
 There were tears on his pillow that night. 
 
 But he didn't give up writing verses. 
 
 With a boy friend he continued to write. 
 
 You may read a very beautiful poem about 
 the poet's childhood and beautiful Portland 
 which he loved so much. 
 
 This poem, written after he becam^e a great 
 man, is called, *' My Lost Youth." 
 
 Mr. Longfellow became a student in 
 Bowdoin College. 
 
 He had grown to be a handsome young man. 
 
 He won many friends by his kind and 
 pleasant ways. 
 
 During his whole life he was a true 
 gentleman. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 53 
 
 He was a hard student. 
 
 It is said he never allowed himself to come 
 to a recitation with a lesson unprepared. 
 
 He always held a high rank in college. 
 
 Nathaniel Hawthorne, who afterward became 
 so famous, was a member of his class. 
 
 While in college Mr. Longfellow wrote and 
 published a number of poems. 
 
 A few of these were afterward published 
 with his later poems. 
 
 When a boy is in college he begins to think 
 seriously of what he is to do in his manhood 
 days. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow wished to devote his life to 
 the study and writing of books. 
 
 He feared his father would object to this. 
 
 He asked his father to allow him a year at 
 Cambridge. 
 
 But after graduating, another plan was 
 proposed. 
 
54 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 He was asked to study in Europe for a 
 year. 
 
 Then he was to become a professor in 
 Bowdoin College. 
 
 Ocean steamships were then unknown. 
 
 Voyages to Europe were made in sailing 
 vessels. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow spent the fall and winter in 
 Portland. 
 
 In April he went to New York. 
 
 There he set sail, and reached France in 
 June. 
 
 Months were spent in Paris in the study of 
 French. 
 
 Sometimes he grew quite discouraged. 
 
 At the same time he studied Italian. 
 
 He wished to study Spanish in Spain. 
 
 Travelers in those days were afraid to 
 travel in Spain, 
 
LONGFELLOW. 55 
 
 The mountains were full of robbers. 
 
 But Mr. Longfellow determined to go. 
 
 He found Spain a poverty-stricken country. 
 
 Many of the people were idle and ragged. 
 
 Both the rich and poor in Spain wear cloaks. 
 
 Sometimes the cloak is only a blanket. 
 
 But a cloak of some kind each must have. 
 
 The Spaniards wear these garments very 
 gracefully. 
 
 Sometimes the poor beggar carries himself 
 with the air of a nobleman. 
 
 In the capital city of Spain Mr. Longfellow 
 found other Americans. 
 
 Among them was Washington Irving, the 
 author of the '* Sketch Book." 
 
 Mr. Longfellow grew as fond of Mr. Irving 
 as he had always been of the '' Sketch Book." 
 
 But no robbers attacked him in all Spain. 
 
 He learned to like the country very much. 
 
56 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Long afterwards he was fond of thinking 
 and speaking about this country. 
 
 He never visited it again. 
 
 He feared that his pleasant memory of it 
 might be spoiled if he went again. 
 
 The Spanish have strange greetings. 
 
 When greeting a lady they say, '' Senora, I 
 throw myself at your Grace's feet." 
 
 And the lady replies, *' I kiss your Grace's 
 hand Senor." 
 
 After visiting many beautiful places, and 
 spending eight months in Spain, Mr. Long- 
 fellow sailed upon the blue Mediterranean to 
 France. 
 
 Then he went to Italy. 
 
 In Rome he met a dear friend, and spent 
 many pleasant hours with him. 
 
 He studied Italian among those who spoke 
 it best. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 57 
 
 He said every language learned opened a 
 new world for him. 
 
 He urged his sisters at home to study 
 languages. 
 
 So he wandered from one country to another. 
 Often he saw strange customs among the 
 people. 
 
 Often his heart glowed as he looked upon the 
 beautiful scenes. 
 
 After a few days spent in the greatest of 
 cities, London, he set sail for America. 
 
 He reached home in August, 1829. 
 
 In the autumn he took up his residence 
 in Brunswick, where Bowdoin College is. 
 
 There, at the age of twenty-two, he became 
 a teacher where he had once been a pupil. 
 
 Not finding books which suited him for 
 the teaching of languages, he published one 
 of his own, 
 
58 ,longfp:llow. 
 
 The new professor was much liked. 
 
 He was so pleasant, so courteous and full 
 of sympathy, that the students regarded him 
 as a friend. 
 
 One person, in whose home he visited, said, 
 '' His coming into our house was like sun- 
 shine." 
 
 In 1 83 1 he married Miss Mary Storer 
 Potter. 
 
 She was finely educated. 
 
 And in character and person she was very 
 lovely. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Longfellow began house- 
 keeping. 
 
 Then the poet began to collect a library. 
 
 He continued to write. 
 
 You may know that his was a busy life. 
 
 It was at Brunswick that he wrote his 
 book, ''Outre-Mer." 
 
LONGFELLOW. 59 
 
 This was written in prose. 
 
 And although he is much better known 
 as a poet, he has written several books of 
 prose. 
 
 '' Outre Mer " describes many of the scenes 
 of his travels in Europe. 
 
 In 1834 Mr. Longfellow received an 
 offer to become a professor in Harvard 
 University. 
 
 It was suggested that he spend more time 
 
 in Europe in the study of languages. 
 
 This was a pleasing offer and he accepted 
 it. 
 
 So, with his wife and two young lady friends, 
 he again sailed for Europe. 
 
 A few weeks were spent in London, where 
 he met many nice people. 
 
 Then there were journeys in Germany, 
 Denmark, and Sweden. 
 
60 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 In a Swedish city Mr. Longfellow wrote of 
 reading easily at midnight. 
 
 For they were in the " Land of the Mid- 
 night Sun." 
 
 The watchman cried aloud from the watch- 
 tower four times: — 
 
 '' Ho, watchman, ho ! Twelve the clock has 
 stricken. God keep our town from fire and 
 brand and enemy's hand." 
 
 In Stockholm Mr. Longfellow studied the 
 Swedish language. 
 
 In Copenhagen he studied Danish. 
 
 Mrs. Longfellow had been in poor health. 
 
 In Rotterdam she became very ill. 
 
 She became no better, and died upon 
 November 29th. 
 
 This was indeed a heavy blow to Mr. 
 Longfellow. 
 
 He found it hard to go on with his work. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 61 
 
 But he tried to be brave. 
 
 In a poem, called '* Footsteps of Angels," he 
 speaks of her as 
 
 " the being beautiful 
 ^ Who unto my youth was given, 
 
 More than all things else to love me." 
 
 He studied in the German city of Heidelberg. 
 
 There he met another of our poets, William 
 Cullen Bryant. 
 
 Mr. Bryant spent the winter in Heidelberg. 
 
 In the spring Mr. Longfellow took a trip 
 through beautiful Switzerland. 
 
 Here were the great Alps. 
 
 The greatest mountain in Europe, Mount 
 Blanc, looked down on him. 
 
 Rivers of ice were to be seen. 
 
 In Switzerland he met some Boston friends. 
 
 These helped to cheer his loneliness. 
 
 Soon he was in Paris again. 
 
02 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 At the hotel table one day, one of the 
 dishes was frog-pie. 
 
 A little boy asked, '' Do they pull the 
 stems off and put them right in whole ? " 
 
 In 1836 Mr. Longfellow took up his work in 
 Harvard College. 
 
 He became as great a favorite here as in 
 other places. 
 
 He made the acquaintance of Mr. Charles 
 Sumner. 
 
 A friendship was formed which lasted all 
 their lives. 
 
 You may read of Mr. Sumner in the history 
 of our country. 
 
 He became a great orator. 
 
 He worked for the freedom of the slaves. 
 
 Have you seen a picture of the Craigie House 
 in Cambridge ? 
 
 It is a low, old-fashioned house, shaded with 
 elms. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 63 
 
 Upon the door is a great brass knocker. 
 This house was built a long time ago, about 
 
 1759- 
 
 After the battle of Bunker Hill the American 
 
 army gathered about Boston. 
 
 General Washington took this house for his 
 headquarters. 
 
 Here Mrs. Washington came and joined her 
 husband. 
 
 The room which was Washington's after- 
 wards became Mr. Longfellow's study. 
 
 He wrote these lines about it : — 
 '' Yes, within this very room 
 Sat he in those hours of gloom 
 Weary both in heart and head." 
 
 Some queer stories are told of this house in 
 Washington's time. 
 
 An old woman was one day captured within 
 the American lines. 
 
64 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 She was accused of being a spy, and was 
 brought before General Putnam. 
 
 The general thought she should be taken 
 before the commander-in-chief. 
 
 The party arrived at the gate before Wash- 
 ington's headquarters. 
 
 There the woman refused to go any farther. 
 
 General Putnam seized her and carried her 
 upon his back up the pathway to the door. 
 
 Washington, seeing him from the window, . 
 laughed heartily at the scene. 
 
 At another time several generals were at the 
 headquarters. 
 
 Word was brought that the British were 
 doing some firing in Boston. 
 
 The officers rushed for their war gear. 
 
 General Greene called to the barber, '' My 
 wig ! where is my wig ? " 
 
 '' Behind the looking-glass, General," said 
 some one. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 6.5 
 
 The general's wig was upon his head. 
 
 In time, this house was owned by Mr. 
 Craigie, a very wealthy gentleman. 
 
 After his death his wife continued to live in 
 the house. 
 
 She rented the rooms she did not use. 
 
 When Mr. Longfellow went to Cambridge, 
 he went to the Craigie House, looking for a 
 room. 
 
 He was a very young looking gentleman. 
 
 Mrs. Craigie showed him over the house. 
 
 But she kept saying, '^ That's a good room, 
 but you cannot have it." 
 
 At length Mr. Longfellow said he should 
 like certain rooms which she showed him. 
 
 Mrs. Craigie said, '' I do not rent those rooms 
 to students." 
 
 '* But," said Mr. Longfellow, '' I am not a 
 student. I am a professor." 
 
LONGFELLOW S HOUSE, CAMBRIDGE, 
 
LONGFELLOW. 67 
 
 Mrs. Craigie was much pleased to make his 
 acquaintance. 
 
 She said she had read '' Outre-Mer." 
 
 Soon the bargain about the rooms was 
 made. 
 
 So the poet became an inmate of the Craigie 
 House. 
 
 There he read, studied and thought. 
 
 There he prepared the lectures for his classes. 
 
 There he wrote his sweet verses. 
 
 The first poem written there was called 
 '' Flowers." 
 
 It begins this way: — 
 
 '* Spoke full well in language quaint and olden 
 One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, 
 
 When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, 
 Stars that in earth's firmament do shine." 
 
 The next poem was the well known " Psalm 
 of Life." 
 
G8 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Often people came to Mr. Longfellow and 
 thanked him for his poem. 
 
 They said it had helped them to live better 
 lives. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow loved his friends. 
 
 He had a great many. One was Nathaniel 
 Hawthorne. 
 
 He was never happier than when entertaining 
 them. 
 
 Charles Dickens, when a young man, came 
 to America. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow and he became fast friends. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow tells this funny story in a 
 letter to a friend. 
 
 A little girl lay in her crib. 
 
 She saw a '' father-long-legs" crawl over her 
 
 pillow. 
 
 « 
 
 She cried to her mother *' Oh, mamma, here's 
 Mr. Longfellow in here." 
 
LONGFELLOW. 69 
 
 Mr. Longfellow continued to write prose. 
 
 Some of his finest short poems were written 
 during his first years at Cambridge. 
 
 He read one day of the dreadful wreck of a 
 vessel upon some rocks called the Reef of 
 Norman's Woe. 
 
 Then he wrote the " Wreck of the Hesperus." 
 
 So much hard work told upon the poet's 
 health. 
 
 In 1842 he went to Europe to regain his 
 health. 
 
 He visited Mr. Dickens and made the 
 acquaintance of his family. 
 
 On the voyage home he wrote some poems 
 about slavery. 
 
 A few people were already beginning to think 
 slavery a great evil. 
 
 In 1843 ^^- I-ongfellow again married. 
 
 His bride was Miss F^ ranees Appleton of 
 Boston. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Her father bought the Craigie House and 
 gave it to them for their home. 
 
 He also gave them the large grounds sur- 
 rounding it. 
 
 These grounds reached to the River Charles. 
 
 They had a beautiful view of the river. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow wrote a poem called the 
 " River Charles." 
 
 Mr. Longfellow had injured his eyes reading 
 in the twilight. 
 
 Mrs. Longfellow did much of his writing for 
 him. 
 
 Much of the poem " Evangeline" was written 
 in the dark with a pencil. 
 
 Evangeline was a beautiful girl, who lived in 
 Acadia. 
 
 The people of her village were taken from 
 their homes by the English troops. 
 
 The people were separated and scattered. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 71 
 
 Evangeline and her lover were separated.* 
 
 She searched many years for him. 
 
 But she did not find him until he was an old 
 man. 
 
 He was dying in a hospital. 
 
 It is a sad, but beautiful poem. 
 
 You have no doubt read " The Children's 
 Hour." 
 
 Mr. Longfellow had six children. 
 
 There were two boys, Charles and Ernest. 
 
 The girls' names were Alice, Edith and 
 Allegra. 
 
 One little daughter, Frances, died. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow loved his children dearly. 
 
 He was fond of giving them pleasure. 
 
 And they enjoyed nothing better than a 
 romp with their poet papa. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow gave up his pleasant study 
 to the children. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 73 
 
 He then took the room just below theirs. 
 
 Mr. Lowell was another of Mr. Longfellow's 
 friends. 
 
 Mr. Lowell's beautiful young wife died upon 
 the same night that a little daughter was born 
 in the Longfellow home. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow wrote ''The Two Angels." 
 
 The college work, with his writing, proved 
 too much for Mr. Longfellow's health. 
 
 So Mr. Lowell took his place in Harvard 
 College. 
 
 . Mr. Longfellow^ had won many friends 
 abroad. 
 
 The English people liked him and enjoyed 
 his poems. 
 
 In one school the boys voted him the poet of 
 the age. 
 
 It was during these pleasant years that 
 "Hiawtha" was written. 
 
74 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 This was a poem made from Indian legends. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Longfellow went often into 
 Boston to attend fine entertainments. 
 
 They heard Jenny Lind, the fine Swedish 
 singer. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow said, " She sings like a 
 morning star." 
 
 The days sped on rapidly for this happy 
 family. 
 
 Friends visited them from all parts of the 
 world. 
 
 Craigie house seemed like a home to all who 
 visited it. 
 
 But a dreadful thing happened in the 
 Craigie House. 
 
 Upon July 9, 1 86 1, Mrs. Longfellow was in 
 the library with her two little girls. 
 
 She had been cutting some of their curls. 
 
 Then she began sealing the curls in small 
 packages. 
 
LONGFELLOW. 75 
 
 Somehow her light dress caught fire from a 
 match that had fallen to the floor. 
 
 She was so seriously burned that she died 
 the next morning. 
 
 She was buried upon the anniversary of her 
 wedding-day. 
 
 Some one placed a wreath of orange blos- 
 soms upon her hair. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow was so seriously burned as 
 not to be able to attend the funeral. 
 
 This sudden and dreadful affliction almost 
 crushed him. 
 
 It was months before he could speak of it. 
 
 He wrote to one of his brothers, '' And now, 
 of what we both are thinking, I can write no 
 word. God's will be done." 
 
 But bravely he took up the work of his life. 
 
 He interested himself in books and in those 
 around him. 
 
76 LONGFELI.OW. 
 
 Some of his best work was done after this 
 sorrow. 
 
 His son Charles went into the war for the 
 freedom of the slaves. 
 
 In December, 1863, he received a telegram 
 that Charles had been seriously wounded. 
 
 In the greatest anxiety, he hastened, with his 
 son Earnest, to Washington. 
 
 There he was told that the wounded would 
 reach Washington the next day. 
 
 But it was several days before they came. 
 
 Charles had a terrible wound. 
 
 A ball entered his shoulder under one 
 shoulder-blade and passed out under the other. 
 
 The physicians were not very hopeful. 
 
 But with good care this boy of only nineteen 
 was saved. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow's love for children is well 
 known. 
 
r.()N(TFELLO\V 
 
 Many children visited him in his study. 
 
 One little boy, of whom he was very fond, 
 came often. 
 
 One day this little fellow looked earnestly 
 down the long rows of books in the library. 
 
 At length he looked up and said, " Have you 
 got ' Jack the Giant-Killer?'" 
 
 " No," said Mr. Longfellow, " I haven't that 
 book in my library." 
 
 Early next morning Mr. Longfellow saw him 
 coming up the walk. 
 
 In his fists he held something very tightly. 
 
 The child had brought him two cents. 
 
 With this Mr. Longfellow was to buy him a 
 "Jack the Giant-Killer" for his very own. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow wrote a poem about the 
 village blacksmith. 
 
 '' Under the spreading chestnut tree 
 The village smithy stands." 
 
78 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 This chestnut tree was cut down. 
 
 A part of the wood was saved and made 
 into a beautiful chair. 
 
 The children of Cambridge presented this 
 chair to the poet on his seventy-second 
 birthday. 
 
 Around the base of the chair are carved the 
 lines: — 
 
 '* The children coming home from school 
 
 Peep in at the open door 
 And watch the burning sparks that fly 
 
 Like chaff from a threshing floor ! " 
 
 Mr. Longfellow wrote a poem to the children 
 in reply to their gift. 
 
 The last lines of the poem are — 
 
 '' Only your love and remembrance could 
 Give life to this dead wood 
 And make these branches, leafless now so long, 
 Blossom again in song." 
 
LONGFELLOW. 79 
 
 Mr. Longfellow lived until March, 1882. 
 
 He received his Harpers Magazine for 
 March. 
 
 In it there was an article about Mexico. 
 
 It spoke of the convent of San Bias upon 
 the Pacific Coast as having been destroyed. 
 
 This suggested Mr. Longfellow's last poem, 
 ''The Bells of San Bias." 
 
 On March 15, he wrote the last stanza. 
 
 " O Bells of San Bias, in vain 
 Ye call back the Past again ; 
 The Past is deaf to heed your prayer; 
 Out of the shadows of the night 
 The world rolls in light. 
 It is daybreak everywhere." 
 
 In the forenoon of March 18 there came 
 four school boys from Boston, 
 They asked permission to visit him. 
 
80 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 He received them with his usual kindness. 
 
 He showed them the study and the view of 
 the Charles from the window. 
 
 He wrote his name in their albums. 
 
 In the afternoon he went to walk upon the 
 veranda. 
 
 He took a severe chill. 
 
 And from the sickness that followed he did 
 not recover. 
 
 He died on Friday, March 24. 
 
 He was laid away in Mount Auburn. 
 
 Only kind words were said of this man, and 
 of his life among men. 
 
 Many honors were given him. 
 
 Many tributes to his memory were paid 
 him. 
 
 The English people placed a l^ust of Mr. 
 Longfellow in Westminster Abbey in the Poets' 
 Corner, 
 
LONCiFEI.LOW. 81 
 
 But no better words could be spoken of this 
 kindly poet than these by a brother poet: — 
 
 " He has written no line which, dying, he 
 could wish to blot : nor one which, living, he 
 has not a right to be proud of." 
 
HAWTHORNE. 
 
Nathaniel Hawthorne, 
 
 One Fourth of July, many years ago, a little 
 boy was born. 
 
 His name was Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
 
 It was a long name for a little boy. 
 
 Perhaps his parents called him Natty, or 
 Nat. 
 
 He lived in a very old town, called Salem. 
 
 Salem is in Massachusetts. 
 
 It contains many queer-looking houses with 
 gables on them. 
 
 Little Nathaniel liked to make up stories 
 about these houses. 
 
 8-6 
 
HAWTHORNE S HOUSE, SALEM. 
 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. ,s5 
 
 When he became a man, he wrote a long 
 story about one of them. 
 
 This story is called '' The House of Seven 
 Gables." 
 
 Nathaniel lived in his grandfather's house. 
 
 It was near the sea. 
 
 Back of the house was a beautiful garden. 
 
 He liked to roll on the grass under the 
 apple trees. 
 
 There he would watch the ships as they 
 came and went. 
 
 Nathaniel was a very pretty boy. 
 
 He had long, golden curls. 
 
 He had bright, blue eyes. 
 
 He had two sisters, who were older than he. 
 
 Their names were Louise and Elizabeth. 
 
 They were very proud of their little brother. 
 
 He had many aunts and uncles. 
 
 They all loved little Nathaniel very much. 
 
86 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 
 But he was not a spoiled child. 
 
 He always was a good boy. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne was a sea-captain. 
 
 He died at sea when Nathaniel was a little 
 boy. 
 
 There were many sea-captains in the 
 Hawthorne family. 
 
 Nathaniel did not care to go to sea. 
 
 He did not have a happy childhood. 
 
 His mother was always very sad. 
 
 Her husband's death was a great sorrow to 
 her. 
 
 She very seldom left the house. 
 
 She always ate her meals alone in her own 
 room. 
 
 So Nathaniel was very quiet at home. 
 
 He liked to play ball with the boys. 
 
 One day he was lamed by a ball. 
 
 He had to use crutches for a long time. 
 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 87 
 
 For some time he could not even sit up. 
 
 He had to lie prostrate. 
 
 He used to lie on the floor and read. 
 
 He liked to read very much. 
 
 He did not always read children's books. 
 
 He would read anything he could find to 
 read. 
 
 '' Pilgrim's Progress " was his favorite book. 
 
 He was very fond of animals. 
 
 But he liked cats best of all. 
 
 When he was lame he played a great deal 
 with pussy. 
 
 Once he knit a pair of stockings for her. 
 
 Sometimes he teased his cats. 
 
 But he was never cruel to them. 
 
 Once he threw a kitten over the fence. 
 
 His sister told him that poor pussy would 
 not like him again. 
 
 He said, " Oh, she'll think it was William." 
 
.S8 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 
 William was a little playmate. 
 
 I wonder if Pussy did think so. 
 
 Nathaniel was not a strong boy. 
 
 He was lame so much that he could not run 
 about like other boys. 
 
 One of his teachers was Joseph Worcester. 
 
 Joseph Worcester is the author of the 
 dictionary which we sometimes use in school. 
 
 While Nathaniel was lame, Mr. Worcester 
 heard him recite his lessons every evening. 
 
 The family moved to a very quiet place in 
 Maine. 
 
 It was near a beautiful lake. 
 
 This lake is called Lake Sebago. 
 
 The house was owned by an uncle. 
 
 It was a large, gloomy house. 
 
 There were many pine trees around it. 
 
 The neighbors were very few. 
 
 Nathaniel had no boy friends. 
 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 89 
 
 He liked to wander about alone. 
 
 In the winter he skated on the ice. 
 
 In the summer he liked to hunt and fish. 
 
 There were many forests in those days. 
 
 The land was not cleared as it is now. 
 
 So foxes and bears were often seen. 
 
 One day Nathaniel saw a large black bear. 
 
 He followed the bear a long distance. 
 
 But he was unable to shoot him. 
 
 It was like camping out to live near the 
 lake. 
 . Nathaniel grew well and strong. 
 
 He loved the quiet of the woods. 
 
 He loved the fragrant odor of the pine trees. 
 
 The birds and squirrels were his playmates. 
 
 He used to take long walks. 
 
 Then he would make up strange stories 
 about what he saw and heard. 
 
 There was no school near. 
 
90 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 
 So Nathaniel had to leave this delightful 
 place. 
 
 He went back to Salem to study. 
 
 There he prepared for college. 
 
 He felt very proud when he started for 
 college. 
 
 He had to travel by stage-coach. 
 
 In those days there were no railroads. 
 
 People had to travel in stage-coaches. 
 
 The stage-coach was drawn by four strong 
 horses. 
 
 The driver would go from house to house 
 for passengers. 
 
 When he was ready to start he would blow 
 his horn and crack his whip. 
 
 Then he would drive away in great state. 
 
 It was not so easy to travel then as it is now. 
 
 Nathaniel made some dear friends while at 
 college. 
 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 91 
 
 One of his friends was the famous poet, 
 Longfellow. 
 
 Another friend was afterwards President of 
 the United States. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne was a handsome young man. 
 
 One day an old gipsy woman met him. 
 
 She looked at him a moment. 
 
 Then she asked him whether he was a man 
 or an angel. 
 
 He was very strong and brave. 
 
 He could walk many miles. 
 
 He could jump very high. 
 
 He often jumped as high as five feet. 
 
 After he left college he wrote a book about 
 his college life. 
 
 He was too shy to have it read. 
 
 After it was printed he burned the book. 
 
 When Mr. Hawthorne was a little boy he 
 and his sisters used to play with two little girls. 
 
92 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 
 Their names were Sophia and Elizabeth 
 Peabody. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne always remembered them. 
 
 He married Sophia. 
 
 She was a very charming" woman. 
 
 They were very happy together. 
 
 They lived in a house called the Old Manse. 
 This house was in the country. 
 
 It was covered with moss and ivy. 
 
 In the orchard were all kinds of fruit. 
 
 A long avenue of trees hid the house from 
 the street. 
 
 There was a river near, where beautiful 
 water-lilies grew. 
 
 Every evening Mr. Hawthorne liked to 
 bathe in the river. 
 
 A dear little daughter came to them. 
 
 She was named Una. 
 
 One of her playmates was a big cat. 
 
NATHANIEL HAAVTIIORNE. 93 
 
 They called the cat Lion. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne moved back to Salem. 
 
 But he liked the country better. 
 
 So they left Salem and went where it was 
 more quiet. 
 
 They lived in a house called the " little red 
 house." 
 
 It was a small house painted red. 
 
 There was a beautiful lake near. 
 
 In the distance were high mountains. 
 
 Una had a little brother and sister. 
 
 Their names were Rosebud and Julian. 
 
 Rosebud had blue eyes and rosy cheeks. 
 
 They had great fun together. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne always played with them. 
 
 He was the best playfellow they had. 
 
 They had a large hen-coop and many hens. 
 
 The hens were tame. 
 
 Each hen knew its own name. 
 
1)4 NATHANIKL HAWTHORNE. 
 
 The children did not like to have their pets 
 killed. 
 
 They thought it was wicked to eat them. 
 
 Their father took them coasting in the 
 winter. 
 
 They had a large sled which Mr. Hawthorne 
 steered. 
 
 Sometimes they would all tumble into a big 
 snowdrift. 
 
 In the autumn they went nutting. 
 
 Where do you suppose they put the nuts 
 which they gathered ? 
 
 They put them in a large oven which the 
 mother did not use. 
 
 This oven contained bags and bags of nuts. 
 
 They had a pet rabbit. 
 
 At first Bunny was named '' Spring." 
 
 Afterwards they changed his name to 
 '' Hindlegs." 
 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 95 
 
 He was very nimble. 
 
 But poor Hindlegs was taken ill and died. 
 
 Little Julian said he had the scarlet fever. 
 
 They buried him in the garden. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne wrote about Bunny. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne wrote a book for children. 
 
 His own children knew it almost by heart. 
 
 It is called '' The Wonder Book." 
 
 Many children wrote to him and asked him 
 to write another book like it. 
 
 He did write several other books for 
 children. 
 
 One of them is '' Grandfather s Chair." 
 
 He loved children very much or he would 
 not have written these books for them. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne bought a house in Concord. 
 
 Concord is not far from Boston. 
 
 Louisa Alcott had lived in this house. 
 
 She has written many stories for children. 
 
NATHANIEL IIAWTITORNE. 07 
 
 They named this house " The Wayside." 
 
 It was a quaint old house. 
 
 It had many pretty little piazzas. 
 
 There were many locust trees around the 
 house. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne loved to sit under these 
 locust trees. 
 
 He built a tower at the top of the house. 
 
 He used this tower for a study. 
 
 The tower was reached by narrow winding 
 stairs. 
 
 It was well lighted by five windows. 
 
 The only thing in the tower was a high 
 writing desk. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne always stood when he wrote. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne was sent to England as 
 consul. 
 
 The children were delighted to cross the 
 ocean. 
 
8 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 
 They traveled a great deal in Europe. 
 
 They saw many beautiful pictures and 
 statues. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne wrote a story about one of 
 the statues which he saw. 
 
 They were very glad to return home. 
 
 It was the time of the great Civil War. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne felt very sad because there 
 was a war in our country. 
 
 He thought that the poor black people 
 should be free. 
 
 Little Julian was too young to go to war. 
 
 He drilled with the boys. 
 
 He said he was going to be a soldier when 
 he was old enough, 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne did not send his children to 
 school. 
 
 He taught them at home. 
 
 He would often read to them from his 
 books. 
 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 90 
 
 Julian has written a book about his father. 
 
 He has told us what a good man he was. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne was always bashful. 
 
 He did not care to go into society. 
 
 He did not like to meet strangers. 
 
 He was much loved by those who knew 
 him. 
 
 Now people in all parts of the world admire 
 and love him. 
 
 He tried to make the world better bv 
 writing good books. 
 
 He hated everything that was evil. 
 
 You will all want to read the ''Wonder 
 
 Book," and his other stories for boys and girls. 
 L.ofC. 
 
Wir.LIAM CULl.EN BRYANT. 
 
The Story of Bryant, 
 
 Once upon a time there was a little boy 
 whose name is too long, perhaps, for you 
 to remember. 
 
 It is William Cullen Bryant. 
 
 Probably his parents called him Willie. 
 
 Willie was born in a small town in 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 101 
 
102 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 This town was among the hills. 
 
 A beautiful river flowed through the 
 town. 
 
 It had beautiful woods. 
 
 Willie, when only a small boy, liked 
 to go into the woods. 
 
 He liked to watch the trees and birds. 
 
 He was born in a small log-house. 
 
 This house, built of square logs, was 
 soon afterwards torn down. 
 
 It had a large chimney. 
 
 This chimney was as large as some 
 kitchens. 
 
 Willie used to sit inside it on a bench. 
 
 Near this log-house was another house, 
 called the " Bryant homestead." 
 
 Here Willie lived during most of his 
 childhood. 
 
 He was very happy in this old house. 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 103 
 
 Willie's father was a doctor. 
 
 Willie was not a well boy, and his 
 father and mother were often anxious 
 about him. 
 
 His father wished to make Willie well 
 and strong. 
 
 He did everything he could for him. 
 
 He had two young men dip Willie 
 every morning in a stream of running 
 water. 
 
104 THE STOPvY OP BRYANT. 
 
 Willie did not like it. 
 
 He used to kick and scream and try to 
 get away. 
 
 After he became strong, he was glad 
 his father made him do it. 
 
 Are you ever glad that you have done 
 things which you did not want to do ? 
 
 Willie was a very bright boy. 
 
 He wrote verses when he was only 
 nine years old. 
 
 When he was ten, one of his poems 
 was printed in a paper. 
 
 Willie lived in the house in which his 
 grandfather and grandmother lived. 
 
 His grandfather was a very stern man. 
 
 He had to punish all men who did not 
 obey the laws-. 
 
 In those days they punished by 
 the stocks and by whipping. 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 lUo 
 
 They did not have jails as they do now. 
 In the middle of the town was the 
 whipping-post. 
 
 A man who had done wrong would be 
 tied to it. 
 
 Then he would be whipped with a 
 large, heavy whip, 
 
 Willie saw a young man who had 
 received forty lashes for stealing. 
 
106 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 Willie was very much afraid of his 
 grandfather. 
 
 He even feared to ask a favor of him. 
 
 He would tremble and blush and 
 forget what to say. 
 
 He was not so afraid of his father and 
 mother. 
 
 Parents were stricter with their chil- 
 dren then than they are now. 
 
 They believed that a child who was not 
 whipped often would not be a good child. 
 
 Children were taught to be very 
 respectful to older people. 
 
 They were taught great respect for 
 ministers. 
 
 Ministers used to visit the school on 
 certain occasions. 
 
 Then the children would be dressed in 
 their Sunday clothes. 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. 107 
 
 The ministers would ask questions 
 about their lessons. 
 
 They would talk to the children for a 
 few moments. 
 
 This was always a great occasion for 
 the children and their teacher. 
 
 The children were glad when it was 
 over, for they always had a vacation then. 
 
 Willie did not study so many studies 
 as you do. 
 
 He studied only reading, writing, and 
 arithmetic. 
 
 The school-house was near his house. 
 
 It was built beside a little brook. 
 
 Willie afterwards wrote a poem about 
 this brook, called *' The Rivulet." 
 
 Willie was a quiet boy. 
 
 He did not play very much with the 
 boys and girls at school. 
 
108 
 
 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 He would rather be by himself in the 
 woods. 
 
 He liked to fish. 
 
 Sometimes he would go to a husking 
 bee. 
 
 All the neighbors used to meet in a 
 barn to husk the yellow ears of 
 corn. 
 
THE STORY OF BKYAXT. 109 
 
 The boys and girls would get together 
 by themselves. 
 
 They would tell stories and sing songs. 
 
 They had great fun if a boy found a 
 red ear of corn. 
 
 He could then kiss the girl he liked 
 best. 
 
 Willie had to go to church three times 
 on Sunday. 
 
 There was a tithing-man in church. 
 
110 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 If any little boy or girl was naughty, 
 he would punish them with a stick. 
 
 If any old man or woman fell asleep, 
 he would wake them up. 
 
 I do not believe he ever had to punish 
 Willie, do you ? 
 
 Willie's father was very kind and 
 gentle. 
 
 He was very strong. 
 
 He could lift a heavy barrel from the 
 ground into a wagon. 
 
 He always wanted one of his sons to 
 be a doctor. 
 
 He named Willie, William Cullen, 
 after Dr. Cullen, a great doctor. 
 
 He hoped Willie would become a 
 doctor. 
 
 Willie liked to write ; so he became a 
 poet. 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 HI 
 
 Willie s mother was good to him. 
 
 She taught him poems when he was 
 only three years old. 
 
 She taught him to be honest and 
 truthful. 
 
 Willie always liked to read and study. 
 
 He liked to pick the beautiful flowers 
 in the woods. 
 
 In the spring he used to gather the 
 white laurel and azalia. 
 
112 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 He liked to listen to the songs of the 
 birds. 
 
 In the autumn, he admired the beauti- 
 ful scarlet and gold leaves on the trees. 
 
 He always felt sad when the leaves 
 fell. 
 
 It was not strange he liked to go into 
 the woods. 
 
 The wind kissed his cheeks and made 
 them rosy. 
 
 The trees whispered to him beautiful 
 thoughts. 
 
 The streams sang songs to him. 
 
 The flowers were his dearest friends. 
 
 The mountains taught him about God. 
 
 We know this, because he tells us so in 
 his poems. 
 
TFIP] STORY OF BKVANT. ll.i 
 
 Here is what he says of The Fringed 
 Gentian: 
 
 TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN. 
 
 Thou blossom bright, with autumn dew. 
 And colored with the heaven's own blue, 
 That openesL when the quiet light 
 Succeeds the keen and frosty night. 
 
 Thou comest not when violets lean 
 O'er wandering brooks and springs 
 
 unseen, 
 Or columbines, in purple dressed, 
 Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. 
 
 Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, 
 -When woods are bare and bird are flown, 
 And frosts and shortening day portend 
 The aged year is near his end. 
 
114 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 When he was thirteen he , wrote a 
 poem about politics. 
 
 People could not believe it was written 
 by a boy so young. 
 
 The printer said he could give the 
 names of friends of the boy. 
 
 When Willie was fourteen he studied 
 with his uncle. 
 
 He paid only one dollar a week for his 
 board. 
 
 He was small for his age. 
 
 He had a great deal of dark brown 
 hair. He was a handsome boy. 
 
 His brothers and sisters always liked 
 to have him at home. 
 
 He played all kinds of games with 
 them. 
 
 He would speak peices which he him- 
 self had written. 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. 115 
 
 He used to run races with them. 
 
 He nearly always ran faster than they. 
 
 When he was sixteen, he went to 
 college. 
 
 His father became very poor. 
 
 So Willie left college, after he had 
 been there only two years. 
 
 He wrote a poem about death when he 
 was eighteen. 
 
 He put it away in a drawer with other 
 poems. 
 
 His father found it one day. 
 
 He read it to a lady friend. 
 
 It seemed so wonderful to her that she 
 burst into tears. 
 
 Dr. Bryant cried also. 
 
 He felt very much pleased that his son 
 could write so well when he was so 
 young. 
 
ik; 
 
 TIIK STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 Willie studied law and became a 
 lawyer. 
 
 While a lawyer he liked to wander 
 about the woods. 
 
 He would come home with his arms 
 full of flowers and leaves. 
 
 He wrote many poems about what he 
 saw in the woods. 
 " On the hill the golden-rod, 
 
 And the Aster in the wood, 
 
 And the yellow sun-flower by the brook, 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. 117 
 
 In autumn beauty stood, 
 Till fell the frost from the clear, cold 
 
 heaven, 
 As falls the plague on men ; 
 And the brightness of their smile was 
 gone 
 From upland, glade and glen." 
 
 One evening he saw a wild duck fly 
 across the sky at sunset. 
 
 He knew that God guided the bird. 
 
 He knew that God would not let the 
 bird lose his way. 
 
 He went home and wrote a poem 
 about the bird. 
 
 Here is one stanza for you to learn. 
 
 It shows that Mr. Bryant believed that 
 God would guide him as well as he did 
 the bird. 
 
11« 
 
 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 "He who from zone to zone 
 Guides through the boundless sky 
 
 thy certain flight, 
 In the long way that I must tread 
 
 alone, 
 Will guide my steps aright. 
 
 Mr. Bryant married a beautiful woman. 
 
 He loved her very dearly. 
 
 They lived together for a long time 
 very happily. 
 
 Mrs. Bryant died several years before 
 Mr. Bryant. 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. Ill) 
 
 After she died he wrote a poem which 
 showed how much he missed her. 
 
 Mn Bryant had one sister, who died 
 when she was a little girl. 
 
 He wrote a beautiful poem about her. 
 
 He calls her the sweetest flower of all. 
 
 Mr Bryant never liked law. 
 
 Just as soon as he was able, he gave it 
 up for writing. 
 
 He became editor of the " New York 
 Evening Post." 
 
 Perhaps some of your fathers and 
 mothers read this paper every evening. 
 
 He wrote a large history of the United 
 States. 
 
 He wrote a number of poems about 
 flowers and birds. 
 
 One is about a yellow violet. 
 
 Here are some verses from it. 
 
120 THE STORY OF BRYAl^T. 
 
 THE YELLOW VIOLET. 
 
 When the beechen buds begin to swell, 
 And woods the blue-bird's warble know, 
 
 The yellow violet's modest bell 
 
 Peeps from the last year's leaves below. 
 
 Ere russet fields their green resume, 
 Sweet flower, I love, in forest bare. 
 
 To meet thee, when thy faint perfume 
 Alone is in the virgin air. 
 
 Of all her train, the hands of Spring 
 First plant thee in the watery mouldy 
 
 And I have seen thee blossoming 
 Beside the snow-bank's edges cold. 
 
 Thy parent sun, who bade thee view 
 Pale skies, and chilling moisture sip, 
 
 Has bathed thee in his own bright hue. 
 And streaked with jet thy glowing lip» 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. 121 
 
 Oft, in the sunless April day, 
 
 Thy early smile has stayed my walk ; 
 But midst the gorgeous blooms of May, 
 
 I've passed thee on thy humble stalk. 
 
 '' So they who climb to wealth, forget 
 The friends in darker fortune tried. 
 
 I copied them — but I regret 
 
 That I should ape the ways of pride." 
 
 Another poem is called '' Robert of 
 Lincoln." 
 
 This is about a bobolink, his wife and 
 little ones. 
 
 They had a nest hidden among the 
 flowers, 
 
122 
 
 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 *' Merrily swinging on brier and weed, 
 Near to the nest of his little dame, 
 Over the mountain side or mead, 
 Robert of Lincoln is telling his name: 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink : 
 Snug and safe in that nest of ours 
 Hidden among. the summer flowers. 
 Chee, chee, chee." 
 
 He wrote one poem about a mosquito. 
 You see he loved everything in nature, 
 even mosquitoes. 
 
THE STORY OF BRYANT. 123 
 
 Mr. Bryant was kind to other poets. 
 
 He always tried to praise them in 
 some way. 
 
 He did not like to hurt their feelings, 
 even when they could not write well. 
 
 He bought a house near New York, 
 called '' Cedarmere." 
 
 He planted beautiful trees and flowers 
 there. 
 
 There was a little lake in the green 
 lawn. 
 
 He loved to row in his daughter's 
 pretty boat. 
 
 He loved to talk and play with his 
 dear grandchildren. 
 
 They wanted to be with him nearly all 
 the time. 
 
 He afterwards bought the " Bryant 
 
124 THE STORY OF BRYANT. 
 
 Homestead," where he had lived when a 
 boy. 
 
 He loved this home because he had 
 been a boy there. 
 
 Everyone loved Mr. Bryant because he 
 was so kind and good. 
 
 When he was seventy years old, his 
 friends met to thank him for his poems, 
 and to give him presents. 
 
 When he was eighty years old, he was 
 given a beautiful vase by those who 
 loved him. 
 
 This vase was made of silver and cost 
 five thousand dollars. 
 
 This shows how many friends Mr. 
 Bryant had. 
 
 Mr. Bryant lived to a good old age. 
 
 He almost always drank water. 
 
 He never smoked, 
 
THK STORY OF BRYANT. l^o 
 
 He rose at about five o'clock in the 
 morning. 
 
 He always went to bed early. 
 
 He exercised with dumb-bells every 
 morning before breakfast to keep himself 
 well and strong. 
 
 He walked a great deal. 
 
 He ate simple food. 
 
 He ate a great deal of fruit. 
 
 He was a good man. 
 
 Do you wonder that he lived to be an 
 old man ? 
 
 We shall want to read all his poems 
 when older. 
 
JAMES Kl'SSELL I.OWKI-t 
 
James Russell Lowell 
 
 You have all heard about Harvard Univer- 
 sity in Cambridge. 
 
 Not far from there is a fine old house. 
 
 It is hidden by large trees from the road. 
 
 Beautiful shrubs and flowers cover the lawn 
 
 But the elm trees tower above all the 
 others. 
 
 They are very ancient and worthy of 
 reverence. 
 
 So the place is called Elmwood. 
 
 This house was built before the Revolution. 
 
 Many great men have lived there. 
 
 127 
 
128 JAMES RtlSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 But for many years it has belonged to the 
 Lowell family. 
 
 They wish it to remain " old-fashioned," as 
 a house which has been built so many years 
 should be. 
 
 On one of Washington's birthdays, James 
 Russell Lowell was born at Elmwood. Here 
 he always lived. 
 
 He had reason to be proud of his family. 
 
 It consisted not only of great men but of 
 good men. 
 
 The city, Lowell, was named after one of 
 the family. 
 
 And another one assisted in putting an 
 end to slavery in Massachusetts. 
 
 James was the youngest of five children. 
 
 His father was a minister and a very good 
 man. 
 
 He aKvays tried to do his duty. 
 
JAMES KUSSELL LOWELL. 129 
 
 The mother was very fond of old songs. 
 
 She repeated them to her children until 
 they knew the songs by heart. 
 
 So James loved poetry when a child. 
 
 But the dear mother's mind was not 
 strong. 
 
 She became insane, to the deep sorrow of 
 her family. r 
 
 We can read about this sad story in one of 
 Lowell's poems, called ''The Darkened Mind." 
 
 There was a large library at Elmwood. 
 
 So the children could read all they wished. 
 
 Here James delighted to spend his time. 
 
 He read all kinds of books, — books for boys 
 and books for men. 
 
 When he was a man he remembered what 
 he had read in boyhood. 
 
 His friends often wondered how he knew 
 so much. 
 
JAMES KUSSELL LOWELL- 131 
 
 Just across the street from Elmwood was a 
 school for boys. 
 
 James attended this school until he entered 
 college. 
 
 He did not care much for study. 
 
 In those days boys often had more fear 
 of whippings than they had love of study. 
 
 When he was sixteen he entered Harvard 
 College. 
 
 But still he did not care for study. 
 
 At one time he was sent to Concord to 
 make up some of his back work. 
 
 He wrote about Concord afterwards, 
 '' I know the village, though ; was sent there 
 
 once 
 A-schoolin', cause to home I played the dunce." 
 
 He began to write poetry while in college. 
 
 So he was made the class poet. 
 
L32 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, 
 
 But he was not allowed to read his class 
 poem, or to graduate with his class. 
 
 He watched the out-door exercises of his 
 class through a hole in the canvas cover of a 
 wagon. 
 
 He often spoke of this afterwards. 
 
 He was very sorry that he had not studied 
 more. 
 
 Later he was allowed to take his degree. 
 
 James's father saw that he liked to write 
 rhymes. 
 
 He thought that was what made James idle. 
 
 So he tried to make his son promise that he 
 would never write any more. 
 
 James did not want to make such a promise. 
 
 But to please his father he did do so. 
 
 He began to study law and gave up writing. 
 
 At this time people were thinking about 
 the question of slavery. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. IXl 
 
 James was gay and fond of society. 
 
 He laughed at those who were opposed to 
 slavery. 
 
 But he soon changed. 
 
 He became acquainted with a young lady 
 named Maria White. 
 
 She was the sister of one of his classmates, 
 and a very beautiful woman. 
 
 She was also a poet. One of her poems, 
 ** The Alpine Sheep," is well known. 
 
 But she was very much against slavery. 
 
 She had great intluence over Lowell, and 
 she always used it for good. 
 
 Her father would not allow her to marry 
 him until he had settled down to work. 
 
 So after he became a lawyer they were 
 married. 
 
 If we should visit the hall at Elmwood we 
 would see their pictures, painted at this time. 
 
134 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 Mrs. Lowell has bright blue eyes and a 
 sweet face. 
 
 Her light brown hair is combed smoothly 
 back from her face. 
 
 Mr. Lowell's wavy auburn hair is long and 
 falls to his shoulders. Their dress looks 
 strange to us now. 
 
 We could almost imagine that they were 
 speaking to us from their pictures. 
 
 They were very happy together at Elmwood. 
 
 They lived in a simple way. 
 
 But they believed in doing good. 
 
 They believed that all men should be 
 equal. 
 
 They did not think that one man ought to 
 be the slave or the servant of another. 
 
 So, at one time, their servants ate with them 
 at the same table. 
 
 But the dear wife was very delicate. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 135 
 
 Several boys and girls gladdened the home 
 for a short time. 
 
 Only one lived to grow up. 
 
 She has always been very dear to her father. 
 
 Mr. Lowell has written several poems about 
 his children. 
 
 There is one called the '' Changeling," and 
 another, called '' The First Snowfall," which 
 you will want to learn. 
 
 He had written for several magazines just 
 before his marriage. 
 
 His poetry was beginning to be well known. 
 
 He found that he must write. 
 
 So he gave up law after his first volume of 
 poems appeared. 
 
 But the poem which we shall all love is 
 called, *' The Vision of Sir Launfal." 
 
 It was written in less than two days. 
 
 During this time he neither ate nor slept. 
 
130 JAMES KUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 The poem teaches us noble lessons. 
 
 We must do the thing which lies next to us. 
 
 We must not wait for great things to do. 
 
 It is a story of the Holy Grail. 
 
 The Holy Grail was the cup out of which 
 Jesus drank at the Last Supper. 
 
 It was brought to England as an object of 
 worship. 
 
 Those who had charge of the Holy Cup 
 must be pure in thought, word, and deed. 
 
 But at one time some one who was not pure 
 had charge of it and it disappeared. 
 
 Search was made for it, but all in vain. 
 
 In this story, Sir Launfal is about to search 
 for the Holy Grail. 
 
 The night before he starts he has a dream. 
 
 He dreams he goes forth from his noble 
 castle. 
 
 He meets a beggar who asks for alms. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 137 
 
 Scornfully- he throws the poor man a piece 
 of silver. 
 
 The beggar will not take the money from so 
 proud a man. 
 
 Many years afterwards Sir Launfal returns 
 to his castle, poor and sad. 
 
 He has not found the Holy Grail. 
 
 There, near his castle, he finds the same 
 beggar whom he had seen so many years before. 
 
 Now he gives him half his crust of bread 
 and treats him as a friend. 
 
 Then the beggar changes his form. 
 
 He is the blessed Christ. 
 
 And here in his own castle-yard Sir Launfal 
 finds the Holy Grail. 
 
 So, the next morning when Sir Launfal 
 awoke, he decided to remain at home. By 
 kindness to the poor he will there find the 
 Holy Grail. 
 
138 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 This Lowell tells us, is true charity : 
 " Not what we give, but what we share, — 
 For the gift without the giver is bare ; 
 Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, — 
 Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me." 
 
 During Mr. Lowell's lifetime, there were 
 two wars in the United States. 
 
 One was the war of 1840, or the Mexican War. 
 
 The other was the Civil War, or the war 
 between the North and South on account of 
 slavery. 
 
 Great men wrote and spoke about them. 
 
 Mr. Lowell, by a few short funny poems, 
 attracted much attention. 
 
 People were much pleased with the poems. 
 
 They were called '' The Bigelow Papers." 
 
 No one knew who wrote them. 
 
 It was thought that Mr. Lowell could not 
 have written them. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. l;U) 
 
 The poems were so unlike anything else he 
 had written. 
 
 They show that Mr. Lowell was a true 
 patriot. 
 
 He loved the welfare of his country. 
 
 There were many other writers living at 
 this time. 
 
 Longfellow, Whittier, and Bryant were in 
 our own country. 
 
 In England there were many others. 
 
 Mr. Lowell knew many of these writers. 
 
 He wrote a poem a'bout them, called '' The 
 Fable for Critics." 
 
 He describes in a very kindly way the 
 manner in which each one writes. 
 
 He even describes himself. 
 
 The dear wife became weaker and weaker. 
 
 They travelled through Europe for her health. 
 
 But it was all in vain ; she did not recover. 
 
UO JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 Mr. Lowell was very sad and unable to 
 write for some time. 
 
 His wife had made him the noble man he 
 was. 
 
 He showed his great sorrow in a beautiful 
 poem called, '' After the Burial." 
 
 '' There's a narrow ridge in the grave-yard, 
 Would scarce stay a child in his race, 
 But to me and my thoughts it is wider 
 Than the star-sown vague of space. 
 
 Cummunion in spirit ! Forgive me. 
 But I, who am earthy and weak, 
 
 Would give all my income from dream-land 
 For one touch of her hand on my cheek." 
 
 The same evening that Mrs. Lowell died, a 
 little daughter was born to Longfellow. 
 
 So Mr. Longfellow wrote a poem to show 
 his sympathy. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. I4I 
 
 It is called, '' The Two Angels." 
 
 **Two Angels, one of Life and one of Death." 
 
 Mr. Longfellow was a professor in Harvard 
 College. 
 
 Mr. Lowell was appointed to succeed him 
 after he left. 
 
 But he felt that he ought to study more. 
 
 So he went to Europe for study. 
 
 He did not remain so long as he thought 
 he would. 
 
 He left a certain sum of money at the bank. 
 
 He said when that was gone he should 
 return home. 
 
 One day he heard that the money was all 
 gone. 
 
 He did not think he had used so much. 
 
 But he returned home, as he said he should. 
 
 Years afterward he received a letter saying 
 that the bank had made a mistake. 
 
142 JAMES BUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 He had not spent all the money. 
 
 So, to his joy, he received over three 
 thousand dollars from the bank. 
 
 This money he used in furnishing his 
 house. 
 
 Mr. Lowell was very popular at Harvard. 
 
 Many of his lectures we can read now. 
 
 Mr. Lowell's little girl was without a mother. 
 
 She needed a mother's care. 
 
 He married a charming woman, named 
 Frances Dunlap. 
 
 She had taught his daughter for some time, 
 and was very fond of her. 
 
 At this time he was connected with one of 
 our famous magazines. 
 
 He was editor of the '^ Atlantic Monthly." 
 
 One of Mr. Lowell's famous poems is, '' The 
 Commemoration Ode." 
 
 It was the great poem of the Civil War. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 14;^ 
 
 Many sons of Harvard University died in 
 the war. 
 
 So in their memory a hall was built. 
 
 When the hall was opened, this poem was 
 read before many friends of the college. 
 
 It was a sad scene and just at the close of the 
 war. 
 
 Crowds of people were present to listen to 
 the exercises. 
 
 There was hardly a person who had not 
 lost some loved friend in the war. 
 
 Yet all were joyful as well as sad. 
 
 Right had won the victory and slavery was 
 abolished. 
 
 After the war cloud, Mr. Lowell led a very 
 quiet life at Elmwood. 
 
 He always loved to see his friends. 
 
 Every Saturday afternoon he was at home. 
 
 The greatest men in the land used to visit him. 
 
^44 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 They all liked to hear Mr. Lowell talk. 
 
 He was the best of good company. 
 
 A whist club was formed at Elmwood. ' 
 
 But the players often forgot about the 
 cards. 
 
 They were too occupied in conversation. 
 
 Mr. Lowell was very fond of walking. 
 
 He used to walk along the banks of the 
 river Charles. 
 
 Often he visited the beautiful Mt. Auburn 
 cemetery, which is very near Elmwood. 
 
 He delighted to work in his garden even 
 until he was an old man. 
 
 He knew the song of every bird. 
 
 In the spring he was always the first to 
 pick the wild flowers. 
 
 He knew them all, and where each one grew. 
 
 He has written many poems about nature. 
 
 In all of them he wishes to make men better. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 145 
 
 There is one he wrote on the common 
 dandelion. 
 
 But he wrote prose also, as well as poetry. 
 
 He loved to sit in his study and watch the 
 birds and squirrels in his garden. 
 
 Then he tells us about them in a most 
 charming way. 
 
 We feel as if they were his friends and he 
 loved them. 
 
 He calls them his *' Garden Aquaintances." 
 
 Mr. Lowell was very fond of children. 
 
 Once upon a time he knew a little girl in 
 England. 
 
 Her name was May. 
 
 She was not old enough to speak plain. 
 
 She asked him to write in her birthday-book. 
 
 So he wrote a very nice poem for her. 
 
 He wrote it in lisping language just as she 
 talked. 
 
146 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 We could not read it, I fear. 
 
 He was very kind to all, whether poor or 
 rich. 
 
 A servant who saw him said : 
 
 *' I declare, Ma'am, Mr. Lowell has the 
 coaxinest eyes I ever see wid a man." 
 
 But his quiet life at Elmwood did not last 
 many years. 
 
 He was sent by the President as Minister 
 to Spain. 
 
 It was the first public office he had ever 
 held. 
 
 The President thought that so famous a 
 man ought to be honored by his country. 
 
 Later he was sent to England. 
 
 He was welcomed by all people there. 
 
 Great honors were paid him. 
 
 He made many famous speeches. 
 
 Mrs. Lowell died while they were in England. 
 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 147 
 
 So after Mr. Lowell's return to America, 
 he lived with his daughter and her children 
 at Elmwood. 
 
 He spent his time in writing a life of his 
 friend, Hawthorne. 
 
 Mr. Lowell was a man who never was 
 obliged to write. 
 
 He always had plenty of money. 
 
 He simply wrote because he loved to write. 
 
 He only wrote when he felt in the mood 
 for it. 
 
 He made the most of his talents. 
 
 He always obeyed the voice of duty. 
 
 We do not admire him for his writings 
 alone. 
 
 We admire him because he was a good 
 man. 
 
MEMORY GEMS 
 
 FROM 
 
 SIR LAUNFAL. 
 
 W^ritten by James Russell Lowell, 1845. 
 
 And what is so rare as a day in June? 
 
 Then, if ever, come perfect days ; 
 Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, 
 
 And over it softly her warm ear Vdyr. 
 
 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 
 'Tis only God may be had for the asking. 
 
 Better to me the poor man's crust, 
 Better the blessing of the poor. 
 Though I turn me empty from his door : 
 That is no true alms which the hand can hold ; 
 He gives nothing but worthless gold 
 Who gives from a sense of duty. 
 
 148 
 
TO THE DANDELION. 
 
 .Dear common flower that growst beside the 
 
 way, 
 Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, 
 
 Which not the rich earth's ample round 
 May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me 
 Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be. 
 My childhoods earliest thoughts are linked 
 
 with thee ; 
 The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, 
 
 Who, from the dark old tree 
 Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, 
 And I, secure in childish piety. 
 Listened as if I heard an angel sing 
 
 With news from Heaven, which he 
 could bring 
 Fresh every day to my untainted ears. 
 When birds and flowers and I were happy 
 peers 
 
 149 
 
F 
 
 'M^^^Xi^ 
 
 LOUISA M. ALCOTT. 
 
Louisa Alcott, 
 
 Girls may become famous as well as boys. 
 
 A little girl came into a happy home in 
 Germantown, near Philadelphia, in 1832. 
 
 They called her Louisa, and her father 
 was Mr. Alcott. 
 
 Louisa Alcott was always the children's 
 friend. 
 
 Mr. Alcott was always fond of writing. 
 
 Some of his brothers laughed at him, but 
 his mother did not. 
 
 She saved every scrap of paper, that he 
 might learn something from it. 
 
 In the winter time his copy-book was a 
 great snow-bank. 
 
 151 
 
152 LOUISA ALOOTT. 
 
 On this, with a stick, he would trace 
 beautiful letters and splendid capitals. 
 
 He said, '' I will be a scholar some day." 
 
 He was a scholar. 
 
 Every one respected him. 
 
 Louisa had a beautiful mother. 
 
 She taught her children to be loving and 
 generous. 
 
 She liked to see her children happy. 
 
 She knew a great deal about many things. 
 
 She would tell Louisa and her sisters 
 stories of great men. 
 
 When Louisa was older she wrote a book, 
 called '' Old Fashioned Girl," she wrote the 
 stories of La Fayette and Madam Hancock, 
 just as her mother had told them to her. 
 
 When Louisa was very little, the family 
 went to Boston to live. 
 
 This was little Louisa's first ride on a 
 steamboat. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. ir>;3 
 
 She wore a clean, new dress that day. 
 
 After a little time Louisa was not to be 
 seen. '' Where is she ? " said her mother. 
 
 They hunted everywhere. 
 
 At last they found her in the engine-room. 
 
 She had been having a beautiful time 
 looking at the engine. 
 
 She wanted to know all about everything, 
 even when a little girl. 
 
 The engine-room was a dingy little room, 
 and Louisa's new dress was nearly black 
 with dirt. It was spoiled. 
 
 But she had learned a great deal about 
 that engine. 
 
 She had an enquiring mind. 
 
 She was fond of books. When she was 
 a very little girl, she would build houses and 
 bridges with her books. 
 
 She would sit for hours and look at the 
 
ir,4 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 
 pictures, and make up childish stories about 
 each. 
 
 When she found some blank pages, she 
 would get a lead pencil and cover the pages 
 with queer little marks. 
 
 She played she was writing a story. 
 
 I am afraid no one could read her stories 
 then. 
 
 But Louisa knew what they were all about. 
 
 Once she built a house around her baby 
 sister. 
 
 The house was made of a high pile of 
 books. 
 
 Louisa went off to play and forgot her 
 little sister. 
 
 When she came back the baby was fast 
 asleep in her castle. 
 
 One day in the streets of Boston, Louisa 
 lost her way home. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. ]5r> 
 
 She sat down to rest. 
 
 A large dog came and sat down beside her. 
 
 The dog made friends with her. 
 
 She liked dogs. 
 
 She was so tired she fell asleep on a door- 
 step, with her head on the big dog's curly 
 back. 
 
 A man went through the streets ringing a 
 great bell. He cried out : '' Lost ! a little girl, 
 four years old ! Curly brown hair ! Blue eyes ! 
 Had on a pink frock and new green shoes ! 
 She calls herself ' Poppy.' " 
 
 Little Louisa awoke and said, ''Why, dat's 
 me ! 
 
 Her father taught a school of thirty boys. 
 They were about ten years old. 
 
 He told them stories of birds, anirrials, 
 flowers and rocks. 
 
 He taught them that manliness is the 
 greatest and best thing in a boy. 
 
1;70 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 
 When Louisa was four years old there 
 was a celebration at her father's school. 
 
 Little Louisa wore a crown of bright 
 flowers. 
 
 She stood up on a table and gave cakes to 
 the children as they passed her. 
 
 She saw there would not be cakes enough; 
 so she held the last one tightly. 
 
 Her mother said : " It is better to give 
 than to keep nice things." 
 
 So the little child who was waiting re- 
 ceived the plum cake from Louisa, and Louisa 
 received a kiss from her mamma. 
 
 All her life she found it was better to give 
 nice things to others than to keep them for 
 herself. 
 
 Louisa was a very lively little girl. She 
 could drive a hoop very far without stopping 
 once. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. If, 7 
 
 Once she rolled her hoop along so fast 
 that it rolled right into a frog pond. 
 
 Louisa was running so fast herself she 
 could not stop and so she fell in after it. 
 
 We can read more about this in her story 
 called, " Poppy's Pranks." 
 
 Louisa's dolls were fed, sent to school, 
 punished and rewarded like all children. 
 
 They were nursed, even hung and buried, 
 and made to do everything that real people 
 do. 
 
 She would tell long stories to her dolls. 
 
 She was a very sensible and wise mamma 
 to them. 
 
 After a time the Alcotts went to live in 
 Concord, Mass. 
 
 The house was pleasant, and the garden 
 was full of trees. 
 
 Here there was a great barn, and in this 
 
1,38 LOUrSA ALCOTT. 
 
 the children had merry games and grand 
 times. 
 
 Louisa liked best to act out plays. 
 
 "Jack and the Bean Stalk" was the play 
 the children all liked best. 
 
 Louisa and her little friends would drag in 
 a long squash vine and twine it to the top 
 of a ladder. This they played was the bean- 
 stalk. 
 
 Louisa had a tumble from the bean-stalk 
 one day when she was climbing to the giant's 
 castle. 
 
 Sometimes the children would act out 
 Cinderella. 
 
 Then they had a huge pumpkin ; and 
 Louisa would play she was Cinderella, and 
 would ride away on the top of the pumpkin. 
 
 Louisa could climb trees, leap fences, run 
 races, skate, coast, play ball, swim and row. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT, 159 
 
 Sometimes she would even beat the boys 
 in running. 
 
 She liked to play games the boys played. 
 
 These out-door games made her strong and 
 healthy. 
 
 Louisa would tell all her little playmates 
 such beautiful and such wonderful stories. 
 
 They never heard stories like Louisa 
 Alcott's stories. 
 
 After she told the story, she would jump 
 up and say, '' Now, let's act it all out." 
 
 Then away they would go. 
 
 Sometimes they were pilgrims ; and with 
 large canes, scrip and staff, they journeyed 
 over the hills. 
 
 Again they were Roman soldiers, march- 
 ing, with old tree twigs for guns. 
 
 Then they were Indians, with tomahawks 
 and feathers. 
 
160 LOUISA ALCOTT 
 
 Again they were fairies, with paper wings; 
 and then they skipped about over the Concord 
 meadows and among the trees. 
 
 In her book called '' Little Women," we 
 read of their games, pranks and frolics. 
 
 Once they had a strawberry party in a 
 rustic arbor. 
 
 To this party they invited Mr. Emerson 
 and Mr. Hawthorne. 
 
 These great, good men came. They had a 
 very merry time, telling stories and eating 
 strawberries, while the little maids served 
 the food. 
 
 One cold morning, when Louisa was eight 
 years old, she found a poor, half-starved robin. 
 
 She felt very sorry for it. 
 
 She took the bird into the house, and 
 warmed and fed it. 
 
 Louisa had a kind heart. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. 161 
 
 ♦ 
 
 After the bird was well, Louisa wrote a 
 little poem. It was called : 
 
 TO A ROBIN. 
 
 "Welcome, welcome, little stranger, 
 Fear no harm, and fear no danger; 
 We are glad to see you here, 
 For you sing '' Sweet Spring is near ". 
 
 Now the white snow melts away ; 
 Now the flowers blossom gay ; 
 Come dear bird and build you nest 
 For we love our robin best." 
 
 She showed these verses to her mother. 
 
 Her mother read them and was pleased. 
 
 She was quite proud of her little girl's 
 efforts. 
 
 She said, '' You will grow up a Shakespeare." 
 
 Shakespeare was a great writer who lived 
 in England long ago. 
 
162 LOUISA ALCOTT 
 
 ♦ 
 
 But little Louisa grew up to be a great 
 and famous story writer for children. 
 
 The family were very poor. * 
 
 Louisa wished her mother and sisters 
 could have more beautiful things. 
 
 She did not care so much for them her- 
 self. 
 
 She was very generous. 
 
 When very young, she felt she must try 
 to earn some money. 
 
 Louisa knew that the family must all be fed 
 and clothed and kept warm. 
 
 She was not ashamed that they were poor; 
 but how she longed to do something. 
 
 '' I will some day," she would say. 
 
 Although the Alcott family were poor, there 
 was always some one poorer, to whom they 
 would give help. 
 
 Once they gave away their dinner. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. 163 
 
 Again they gave away their wood. 
 
 Louisa was always very fond of animals. 
 
 When very young, she would play with 
 the cats and dogs. 
 
 She nursed them in sickness, buried them 
 with funeral honors, wrote funeral sermons 
 about them. She wrote '' The Seven Black 
 Cats." 
 
 When she was older, this story was printed, 
 with others, in a book called, " Aunt Jo's 
 Scrap Bag." 
 
 Little Louisa used to recite her lessons 
 to her father. 
 
 In warm days they had their lessons under 
 the shade trees in the garden. She liked 
 this. 
 
 Here she would learn about the flowers, 
 grasses and insects ; and her father would tell 
 her wonderful stories. 
 
16^4 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 
 Then he would take long walks with the 
 children over hill and dale. 
 
 Louisa wrote in a little book the events of 
 each day. 
 
 She w^ould write many of her thoughts in 
 this book ; also her struggles and her wishes. 
 
 Often she made drawings in the book, to 
 show what she had seen or done. 
 
 At one time Louisa went to a district 
 school for a few months. 
 
 There were but few children at that school. 
 
 It was a queer, little, old-fashioned school 
 house. 
 
 She tells us about some of the frolics there 
 in her book called, '' Under the Lilacs." 
 
 At another time a lady kept a school in Mr. 
 Emerson's barn, and Louisa went there. Mr. 
 Emerson was a great writer, who lived near 
 the Alcotts. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. IGo 
 
 When a little older, Mr. Lane taught her. 
 Here is one lesson. Louisa wrote the 
 answers. 
 
 *' How can you get what you need ? 
 By trying. 
 How do you try ? 
 By resolution and perseverance. 
 How gain love ? 
 By gentleness. 
 What is gentleness ? 
 Kindness, patience and care for others. 
 Who has it? 
 Father and Anna. 
 Who means to have it ? 
 Louisa, if she can." 
 
 Louisa liked to write little stories about 
 her young playmates, the Emersons, Chan- 
 nings, and the Hawthorne children. 
 
 She would write poems about them. 
 
166 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 
 She liked to write poems about dead 
 butterflies, lost kittens, and little birds. 
 
 She would make little presents for her 
 mother and sister Anna. 
 
 Then she would write some verses about 
 the gift, and put them in the package. 
 
 They liked the verses even more than the 
 presents sometimes. 
 
 When she was ten years old, her mother 
 gave her a present of a pencil-case. 
 
 Her mother wrote a note and gave it to 
 her with the present. 
 
 In the note she said : '' Your tenth birth- 
 day has arrived. May it be a happy one. 
 I give you the pencil-case as I promised. I 
 have observed you are fond of writing." 
 
 When she was fourteen, her mother gave 
 her a pen. 
 
 Her mother liked to have her write. 
 
LOmSA ALCOTT. 167 
 
 When Louisa was twelve years old, she 
 put out this sign : " Dolls' Dressmaking." 
 
 Then she put some doll dressss in the 
 window. They were of wonderful style and 
 pattern. 
 
 All the children brought their dolls to her 
 to be fitted and dressed. 
 
 She made hats and bonnets for the dolls 
 too. 
 
 She chased her neighbors hens, and pulled 
 out their prettiest, downiest feathers for plumes 
 to trim her hats. 
 
 Her dressmaking establishment was soon 
 followed by a little school. 
 
 She began to teach some of the very little 
 children of the neighborhood to read. 
 
 But she did not like to teach. 
 
 She liked to read and write. 
 
 Mr. Emerson had many rare and beauti- 
 ful books in his home. 
 
168 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 
 He would lend these to Louisa and 
 explain many of their pages to her. 
 
 Louisa grew to love Mr. Emerson. 
 
 When fifteen, she composed some poetry 
 about him. 
 
 l^hen she sat up in a tall cherry-tree one 
 night singing the verses, till the owls scared 
 her off to bed. 
 
 At other times she would leave wild flowers 
 on Mr. Emerson's doorstep. 
 
 Once she sang a song under his window. 
 
 But she sang it in very bad German ; and, 
 had he heard, I think he could not have 
 understood. 
 
 Once she wrote very wild, exciting stories 
 for three months. 
 
 Then she read them over and thought they 
 were neither beautiful nor true ; so she burned 
 them all. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. If.O 
 
 When she was sixteen, she wrote a little 
 story called, " Flower Fables." 
 
 A few years later it was printed, and she 
 received thirty-two dollars for this ; but gave 
 the money to her mother and her sisters. 
 
 Louisa felt that she must earn something 
 for the family. 
 
 She said, " While I have health, and a head, 
 and two hands, I will work." 
 
 Once she did the housework in a strange 
 family. 
 
 It was hard. She got very tired. 
 
 Few happy moments came to her. 
 
 She worked seven weeks. 
 
 The man gave her four dollars. 
 
 She gave the money back to the man. 
 
 She felt that homely, honest work should 
 never be despised, but should be appreciated. 
 
 Later on, she had a little garret room in 
 
170 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 
 Boston, with her papers, pens and books 
 about her. 
 
 Here she planned and wrote stories. 
 
 Sometimes she had little to eat. 
 
 Sometimes she sewed for ladies far into 
 the night. 
 
 Then she would treat herself by going to 
 hear a fine lecture. 
 
 This did not happen very often. 
 
 Again she taught school. 
 
 She would not be idle. 
 
 She liked to write stories best of all. 
 
 When in Boston she met great men. They 
 were kind to her. 
 
 They helped her because she was trying 
 so hard to help herself. 
 
 Once she decided she would be an actress. 
 
 She thought it must be a gay life. 
 
 She liked tragic plays. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. 171 
 
 She planned some fine scenes in her plays. 
 
 She made harps, castles, armor, water falls, 
 and even thunder. 
 
 After she had taken a part in several plays, 
 she saw that it was a hard life. 
 
 At last Louisa Alcott began to write stories 
 and poems in earnest. 
 
 She worked hard ; many nights she worked 
 till after midnight. 
 
 Sometimes she wrote when she felt sick, 
 and when her head was dizzy, and her hands 
 ached with holding her pen so long. 
 
 She was happy when editors took her 
 stories, printed them and paid for them. 
 
 Then the home was a merry one. 
 
 A new carpet would be bought. 
 
 Her mother would have a new dress or 
 warm shawl. 
 
 Her sister would have a new hat with 
 bright ribbons. 
 
172 LOUISA ALCOTT 
 
 Her father would have a new book. 
 
 Louisa thought of every one but herself.^ 
 
 When the Civil War broke out, she fitted 
 out many of the brave boys for the army. 
 
 She sewed and knit many things for the 
 boys in blue. 
 
 She wished she could go to war too. 
 
 She said, " If I cannot fight, I can go and 
 nurse those who do fight," 
 
 So she went to nurse the soldiers. 
 
 She started with a brave heart, but she had 
 a severe fever, and had to return home. 
 
 She suffered many weeks, and never was 
 so well again. 
 
 She wrote a great deal about this life in 
 '' Hospital Sketches." 
 
 One year she went to Europe with a lady. 
 
 She met many great men and women. 
 
 She liked the grand scenery and beautiful 
 cities. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. 17;) 
 
 In Europe she met Thackeray and Dickens. 
 
 She wished she could write as they wrote. 
 
 She came home and worked harder than 
 ever. 
 
 She wished she could earn enough to 
 enable her sisters to go to Europe. 
 
 She always wanted others to have beauti- 
 ful things, and she loved to make them happy. 
 
 Her mother grew pale and sick. 
 
 Then Louisa wrote very fast night after 
 night. 
 
 Her mother grew weaker. 
 
 Then Louisa worked harder. 
 
 She took care of her mother very lovingly. 
 
 Everything her mother wished for she tried 
 to get. 
 
 Louisa Alcott grew up to be a generous, 
 noble woman. 
 
 She was alw^ays fond of boys. 
 
174 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 
 She liked to see them manly, polite, and 
 eager to learn. 
 
 And how much she did to help the girls ! 
 
 They all loved her. 
 
 Suddenly, after all her hard work, she found 
 herself famous. 
 
 All her books sold very fast. 
 
 How the children all over the country read 
 her stories ! 
 
 Now her mother could rest in a beautiful 
 room and not worry. 
 
 There was plenty of money and there were 
 no debts now. 
 
 Her book, '' Little Women," was so natural 
 and true that this brought her the money 
 she had long needed. 
 
 Everybody read *' Little Women." 
 
 The children in Europe, as well as the 
 children in America, read the book. 
 
LOUISA ALCOTT. , 175 
 
 It was the story of her own girlish life, 
 and written very simply and truly. 
 
 She helped her sister to go abroad and 
 study art. 
 
 She went too, and they enjoyed seeing the 
 beautiful cities in Europe together. 
 
 Everybody wanted to see the lady who had 
 written such beautiful stories. 
 
 Without wealth she had built up a great 
 and beautiful life. 
 
 We may not have talents like hers, but 
 we can have her spirit of love and duty. 
 
 She could not write so much now. She 
 was not strong and well. 
 
 She wanted to write more stories for the 
 boys and girls. 
 
 She was not able to write, and felt sorry. 
 
 She had worked hard all her life to give 
 pleasure to others. 
 
176 LOUISA ALCOTT. 
 
 Her father died March 4, 1888, and she, two 
 days after. 
 
 Louisa Alcott was buried in Sleepy Hollow 
 Cemetery at Concord, Massachusetts. 
 
 The people of the country felt, when she 
 died, that they had lost a noble woman. 
 
 All the children knew they had lost a dear 
 friend. 
 
 ''Oh, noble woman ! never more a queen 
 Than in the laying down 
 Of sceptre and of crown 
 To win a greater kingdom, yet unseen. 
 
 Teaching us how to seek the highest goal, 
 
 To earn the true success, — 
 
 To live, to love, to bless, — 
 And make death proud to take a royal soul." 
 
LITERATURE. 
 
 
 O/IBEY 
 
 *lKD9rtBeY&59N 
 
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 NBW YORK. B09T0M CniCAOO 
 
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HISTORY AND PATRIOTISM, 
 
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 STORIES 
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 Every story has a child 
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 I^arge type edition. Illus. 
 
 Price, Boards, 30 cents; 
 
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