It pleased her to point out her own birthplace. Straight as the crow
flies, from her piazza, does it lie on the brow of Bow hill, and then
she paused and reminded the reporter that Congressman Baker from New
Hampshire, her cousin, was born and bred in that same neighborhood. The
photograph of Hon. Hoke Smith, another distinguished relative, adorned
the mantel.

Then my eye caught her family coat of arms and the diploma given her by
the Society of the Daughters of the Revolution.

The natural and lawful pride that comes with a tincture of blue and
brave blood, is perhaps one of her characteristics, as is many another
well born woman's. She had a long list of worthy ancestors in colonial
and revolutionary days, and the McNeils, and General Knox, figure
largely in her genealogy, as well as the hero who killed the ill-starred
Paugus.

This big, sunny room which Mrs. Eddy calls her den--or sometimes
"mother's room," when speaking of her many followers who consider her
their spiritual leader--has the air of hospitality that marks its
hostess herself. Mrs. Eddy has hung its walls with reproductions of some
of Europe's masterpieces, a few of which had been the gifts of her
loving pupils.

Looking down from the windows upon the tree-tops on the lower terrace,
the reporter exclaimed: "You have lived here only four years, and yet
from a barren waste of most unpromising ground has come forth all this
beauty!"