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The Poet at the Breakfast-Table by Oliver Wendell Holmes
page 17 of 347 (04%)
over-shadowing eyebrows; following in the train, mild-eyed John Foster of
Brighton, with the lambent aurora of a smile about his pleasant mouth,
which not even the "Sabbath" could subdue to the true Levitical aspect;
and bulky Charles Steams of Lincoln, author of "The Ladies' Philosophy of
Love. A Poem. 1797" (how I stared at him! he was the first living
person ever pointed out to me as a poet); and Thaddeus Mason Harris of
Dorchester (the same who, a poor youth, trudging along, staff in hand,
being then in a stress of sore need, found all at once that somewhat was
adhering to the end of his stick, which somewhat proved to be a gold ring
of price, bearing the words, "God speed thee, Friend!"), already in
decadence as I remember him, with head slanting forward and downward as
if looking for a place to rest in after his learned labors; and that
other Thaddeus, the old man of West Cambridge, who outwatched the rest so
long after they had gone to sleep in their own churchyards, that it
almost seemed as if he meant to sit up until the morning of the
resurrection; and bringing up the rear, attenuated but vivacious little
Jonathan Homer of Newton, who was, to look upon, a kind of expurgated,
reduced and Americanized copy of Voltaire, but very unlike him in
wickedness or wit. The good-humored junior member of our family always
loved to make him happy by setting him chirruping about Miles Coverdale's
Version, and the Bishop's Bible, and how he wrote to his friend Sir Isaac
(Coffin) about something or other, and how Sir Isaac wrote back that he
was very much pleased with the contents of his letter, and so on about
Sir Isaac, ad libitum,--for the admiral was his old friend, and he was
proud of him. The kindly little old gentleman was a collector of Bibles,
and made himself believe he thought he should publish a learned
Commentary some day or other; but his friends looked for it only in the
Greek Calends,--say on the 31st of April, when that should come round, if
you would modernize the phrase. I recall also one or two exceptional and
infrequent visitors with perfect distinctness: cheerful Elijah Kellogg, a
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