The Poet Whittier

The poet John O. Whittier has so many friends tluov.ghout tho land that we presumí: tho foUnwing extract f rom a long speech conoerning him in the New York Ecening P&it wil] Bod many roaders : WUI'ITIKS'8 BIKTH l'LACB. The artist in the illust.rivtions to " Snow Bouml " has made quite n faithful oopy of the old house. But if lie had plaeocï it a little further back firom tho road and givun soinething of the big old porch on tho toad sido of the house, through whioh it is mid alwiiys hu traan eutered, he would have drawn a truer sketch, anid 1 tliink a more ploasing picture. It sits iu th" midst of a boautijful country. Nobli; trees Hurround it. andglorify the hills and valleys about, and genurous pastures and rich muadow lands on all sidos. A bruuk runs at the foot of tho slope on whick the house stands and the road winds by its nido piotnrcsqua and quiet. Wo went to tho " oompany " door and knocked, but got no answer. Aftor a while a kindly, niy-huired old lady approaohed at tho eoruor trom the porch, and as sho poered at us from urider her hand, with which she shaded her dim eycs, wo told hor the object of our visit and asked admittance. "Yes, you can come in, though thcre ain't uiuch to sje ever and above an old house. We ain't tidy, but you'll not uiind. " We followi d herjbaek tl rougii the porch into a sido room. lloro is still tho old lire-place, where, on that snowy night, which is familiar to all who have ruad " Snow-Bound," the hnge fire was built, and here the household, which he, the po t, so tenderly describes, sat, and - n Watched the flrst red blnzo ppear, llcard thO sharp crneklo, -:nij,'lit th": glcum n wMteWMhod wkI! :md pninii beum, Ulltl] the old rude-t'nrnislied room 13urst, flower-like, into rosy bloom." It is a spaclous, though low room, now bare of much furniture, and with uncarpetcd but yet snow white floor. There was nothing to sce, as the old lady had said, beyond an old house, there. Nothing bnt the house to recall tho Whittier family. Whittier left hore more than .'50 years ago, and everything but the old house went with him. " We'vo been here rising tUirty yoars ourselves," said the old lady, " and ho ain't been nigh here in that time - that is, in the house. We used to go to school together. Twa'n't rnuoh i f a school. 'Twas in an old smoky kitehen, at a farm-house. Ho wasn't much at playing. He was a steady boy, quiet and still ; didn't say much. He had long, black hair, and was sinall. Everybody liked him, though." She told all this only a few words at a time, leaning againat a partition which divides the kitchen from the outer room we first entered from tho porch, with her arms behind her, and her eyes looking away off into the past. " This used to be the one room, a big kitchen. Over there where that chest is he used to mako his poetry. He had a little desk there, and he used to sit sometimos looking out that window and sometimos writirlg pieces. Yes, we have sold the old place," she said, in answer to our inquiry coucerning a report we had heard ; " wo're all alone. All the boys have gono off, and taxe is so high." So this is to go too. The old Whittier placo wiU, like so many other landmarks, shortly disappear. Sonie speculators have bought the place, I learn, and they intend to out it up for country residences, and to niake money on the strength of its reputiition. " After he left the old kitehen school he went to the littlo school-house up yonder," explained our kind öld friend as we left the house, andto tho old schoolhouse we drove. THE OLD SCIIOOL-HOUSE. It sits by the road side, just as Whittier pictured it in " In School Days," tho bost of all his tihorter poems : " Stil Hits the Kchool-honse by the rond, A rajiíed bfíar mrasing, Around it tiil tlw suniflchfi grow. And blackbc-rry viir-s are ruuumg. AVithin, the mn8tr's desk is geen, IK'L'p senrred by rups ofticiul ; The wurpiiiK diwr, the battend seals, The juck-knile's cnrvetl iniüul. The ehnrcou! faoacoci on Ihc w;!l ; .ltrt dour's wovn sll(li.-ílnyini.-. The feet thnt oreeptng slow ii school! Went Btomung ooi i plujing.'1 Itisaquaint little liouse, dilapídate" and worn. But boys and girls still g up to it to school, and so it lias not ye nassed bevond usefuhicss. Tho door. a asscu oeyoiiu. useiumuss. Alie tiuui, i ude arrangement ot' rough boards, was ocked, but counting seven or eight ibandonod key-holes whieh told plainly mough how mipatient boys in tlays ago lad risen suprome to bolts and bars, wc ropared with something of oíd boyish jloe to repeat the lawloss tricks; but at ne slight effort the rusty oíd staplc fell 0 the ground, and tho uuuiont door went Tcakiug back on its well wom hingrs. - (Ve enterad a barren poroh, wbioh had ividcntly boonadded since Whittier's duy, iiid tlien the dingy oíd rooin itsclf. It :an't be more than twonty by fifteen, nor nore than seven ieet high. The inside )icture is just as Whittier paints it. Thir;y-two of the most primitive benchos, udely fashioned f rom thick, unpainted md untrimn.ed pille boards, battcrod inLeed, and showingeverywhere " the jackmife'a oarvod initial," are arranged in rowded linos ; the floor is sloping, so that he big boys who sit ut the back of the :oom shall sit out in bold relief to the acher's watchful eye : tho " master's lesk, deep scarredby raps official," stands .n the place of authority ; two chairs, one 1 spacious arm chair, evidently for the ireaded visiting committec man , are by it; and on the worn oldwall are aconple jï old-fashioned blackbo:irds. With the professional curiosity of all jourualists 1 learohed for soraetfung noteworty among bhe worksof thejaok-knivoson the bonchss. But nothiug could I find that suggested the " stoady boy : " perhups rinoe Lis gcntle foet wore tho üoor-sill the licnchcs havo been removed, and that on and at whieh he sat hasbeendentroyed. But I doubt it, for thcy look as ancient and ;is quaint as the old shed itself, though I noticed rooghly cut many a " Willie " and a " Frank," a rudo nag with wonderfnl stripes and impossiblc stars, and onco the tender name of a girl, who mi#t have been pretty and lovablo and perhaps thb sweet rustic idol of the school. At tho " master's desk " a woman must now presido. This was our conclusión when wc noticed the evergreen trimniings about the room, and an ugly lotch made in the witll by a bunoh of "green boughs stuffed in it throat. And not long after we were strengthoned iu our belief by nnticing on the wall, scrawled in awkward boy's letters, " íliss Ellen Cogsweil, Teacher." Happy she, though with scant tools and rude surroundings, to teac.h in suoh a school ! Something of the practi - cal stylo of the teaching hore we learned by scanning one of the blackboards: " Qn. -Tonta in ■ pilo of wuod 15 foot long, 4 fcet wide, fi',; loot lii;jh. (u. ( 'ijst to grade a rood for tin1 milos at 0.60 pw rod. The old desk is as much a curiosity as anytbing about the place. It, also, is of pine, aud roughly formed. It stands on four spii:dle logs, and looks for all the world iike the lumbering affiiin one seos on the stage when it is set to represent on Euglish lawyer's ofiice. We had the miilatity to open it, and iro found a Webstor's Unabridged, an empty ink bottle and a fadrd flowor. Liko tho old house, the old school-houso ivill soon disappear, for rumor has it thnt the " district " doniunds a nower and moro modera structure in which its youlh shall be taught, mid has dooiuud the fuincd pile.