His dress, though he had improved in this particular since middle life,
was marked by a truly scholastic negligence. He greeted me kindly, and
with plain, old-fashioned courtesy; though I fancied that he somewhat
regretted the interruption of his evening studies. After a few moments'
talk, be invited me to accompany him to his study, and give my opinion
on some passages of satirical verse, which were to be inserted in a new
edition of "Terrible Tractoration." Years before, I had lighted on an
illustrated copy of this poem, bestrewn with venerable dust, in a corner
of a college library; and it seemed strange and whimsical that I should
find it still in progress of composition, and be consulted about it by
Dr. Caustic himself. While Mr. Fessenden read, I had leisure to glance
around at his study, which was very characteristic of the man and his
occupations. The table, and great part of the floor, were covered with
books and pamphlets on agricultural subjects, newspapers from all
quarters, manuscript articles for "_The New England Farmer_," and
manuscript stanzas for "Terrible Tractoration." There was such a litter
as always gathers around a literary man. It bespoke, at once, Mr.
Fessenden's amiable temper and his abstracted habits, that several
members of the family, old and young, were sitting in the room, and
engaged in conversation, apparently without giving him the least
disturbance. A specimen of Dr. Caustic's inventive genius was seen in
the "Patent Steam and Hot-Water Stove," which heated the apartment, and
kept up a pleasant singing sound, like that of a teakettle, thereby
making the fireside more cheerful. It appears to me, that, having no
children of flesh and blood, Mr. Fessenden had contracted a fatherly
fondness for this stove, as being his mental progeny; and it must be
owned that the stove well deserved his affection, and repaid it with
much warmth.

The new edition of "Tractoration" came out not long afterwards. It was