"I love this river," he said. "Yes, I love it," he
repeated; "love it in summer or in winter." And then he was quiet for
a minute or so.
Edward asked him which of his poems were his favorites.
"Well," he said musingly, "I think 'The Chambered Nautilus' is my most
finished piece of work, and I suppose it is my favorite. But there are
also 'The Voiceless,' 'My Aviary,' written at this window, 'The Battle
of Bunker Hill,' and 'Dorothy Q,' written to the portrait of my
great-grandmother which you see on the wall there. All these I have a
liking for, and when I speak of the poems I like best there are two
others that ought to be included--'The Silent Melody' and 'The Last
Leaf.' I think these are among my best."'
"What is the history of 'The Chambered Nautilus'?" Edward asked.
"It has none," came the reply, "it wrote itself. So, too, did 'The
One-Hoss Shay.' That was one of those random conceptions that gallop
through the brain, and that you catch by the bridle. I caught it and
reined it. That is all."
Just then a maid brought in a parcel, and as Doctor Holmes opened it on
his desk he smiled over at the boy and said:
"Well, I declare, if you haven't come just at the right time.
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