" And he did.
"A few can touch the magic string,
And noisy Fame is proud to win them,--
Alas for those who never sing,
But die with all their music in them!"
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
As each little volume went under the poet's pen Edward said, as his
heart swelled in gratitude:
"Doctor Holmes, you are a man of the rarest sort to be so good to a
boy."
The pen stopped, the poet looked out on the Charles a moment, and then,
turning to the boy with a little moisture in his eye, he said:
"No, my boy, I am not; but it does an old man's heart good to hear you
say it. It means much to those on the down-hill side to be well
thought of by the young who are coming up."
As he wiped his gold pen, with its swan-quill holder, and laid it down,
he said:
"That's the pen with which I wrote 'Elsie Venner' and the 'Autocrat'
papers. I try to take care of it."
"You say you are going from me over to see Longfellow?" he continued,
as he reached out once more for the pen. "Well, then, would you mind
if I gave you a letter for him? I have something to send him.
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