第17章 Going to the Theatre with Longfellow (2)

We Yankees are great for bargains, you know.If you will read me 'The Village Blacksmith' you can sit in that chair there made out of the wood of the old spreading chestnut-tree, and I'll take you out and show you where the old shop stood.Is that a bargain?"Edward assured him it was.He sat in the chair of wood and leather, and read to the poet several of his own poems in a language in which, when he wrote them, he never dreamed they would ever be printed.He was very quiet.Finally he said: "It seems so odd, so very odd, to hear something you know so well sound so strange.""It's a great compliment, though, isn't it, sir?" asked the boy.

"Ye-es," said the poet slowly."Yes, yes," he added quickly."It is, my boy, a very great compliment.""Ah," he said, rousing himself, as a maid appeared, "that means luncheon, or rather," he added, "it means dinner, for we have dinner in the old New England fashion, in the middle of the day.I am all alone today, and you must keep me company; will you? Then afterward we'll go and take a walk, and I'll show you Cambridge.It is such a beautiful old town, even more beautiful, I sometimes think, when the leaves are off the trees.

"Come," he said, "I'll take you up-stairs, and you can wash your hands in the room where George Washington slept.And comb your hair, too, if you want to," he added; "only it isn't the same comb that he used."To the boyish mind it was an historic breaking of bread, that midday meal with Longfellow.

"Can you say grace in Dutch?" he asked, as they sat down; and the boy did.

"Well," the poet declared, "I never expected to hear that at my table.Ilike the sound of it."

Then while the boy told all that he knew about the Netherlands, the poet told the boy all about his poems.Edward said he liked "Hiawatha.""So do I," he said."But I think I like 'Evangeline' better.Still," he added, "neither one is as good as it should be.But those are the things you see afterward so much better than you do at the time."It was a great event for Edward when, with the poet nodding and smiling to every boy and man he met, and lifting his hat to every woman and little girl, he walked through the fine old streets of Cambridge with Longfellow.At one point of the walk they came to a theatrical bill-board announcing an attraction that evening at the Boston Theatre.

Skilfully the old poet drew out from Edward that sometimes he went to the theatre with his parents.As they returned to the gate of "Craigie House" Edward said he thought he would go back to Boston.

"And what have you on hand for this evening?" asked Longfellow.

Edward told him he was going to his hotel to think over the day's events.

The poet laughed and said:

"Now, listen to my plan.Boston is strange to you.Now we're going to the theatre this evening, and my plan is that you come in now, have a little supper with us, and then go with us to see the play.It is a funny play, and a good laugh will do you more good than to sit in a hotel all by yourself.Now, what do you think?"Of course the boy thought as Longfellow did, and it was a very happy boy that evening who, in full view of the large audience in the immense theatre, sat in that box.It was, as Longfellow had said, a play of laughter, and just who laughed louder, the poet or the boy, neither ever knew.

Between the acts there came into the box a man of courtly presence, dignified and yet gently courteous.

"Ah! Phillips," said the poet, "how are you? You must know my young friend here.This is Wendell Phillips, my boy.Here is a young man who told me to-day that he was going to call on you and on Phillips Brooks to-morrow.Now you know him before he comes to you.""I shall be glad to see you, my boy," said Mr.Phillips."And so you are going to see Phillips Brooks? Let me tell you something about Brooks.He has a great many books in his library which are full of his marks and comments.Now, when you go to see him you ask him to let you see some of those books, and then, when he isn't looking, you put a couple of them in your pocket.They would make splendid souvenirs, and he has so many he would never miss them.You do it, and then when you come to see me tell me all about it."And he and Longfellow smiled broadly.

An hour later, when Longfellow dropped Edward at his hotel, he had not only a wonderful day to think over but another wonderful day to look forward to as well!

He had breakfasted with Oliver Wendell Holmes; dined, supped, and been to the theatre with Longfellow; and to-morrow he was to spend with Phillips Brooks.

Boston was a great place, Edward Bok thought, as he fell asleep.