"
"Ah," he said, rousing himself, as a maid appeared, "that means
luncheon, or rather, it means dinner, for we have dinner in the old New
England fashion, in the middle of the day. I am all alone to-day, and
you must keep me company, will you? Then afterward we'll go and take a
walk, and I'll show you Cambridge. It is such a beautiful old town,
even more beautiful, I sometimes think, when the leaves are off the
trees."
[Illustration: Edward Bok's birthplace at Helder, Netherlands. In the
foreground is one of the typical Dutch canals; at the end of the garden
in the rear is one of the famous Dutch dykes and just beyond is the
North Sea. The house now belongs to the Dutch Government.]
"Come," he said, "I'll take you up-stairs, and you can wash your hands
in the room where George Washington slept. And comb your hair, too, if
you want to," he added; "only it isn't the same comb that he used."
To the boyish mind it was an historic breaking of bread, that midday
meal with Longfellow.
"Can you say grace in Dutch?" he asked, as they sat down; and the boy
did.
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