nd supplying the words his voice refused to utter. When
I was presented, Emerson said in a slow, questioning way,
'Burroughs--Burroughs?' 'Why, thee knows _him_,' said Whittier, jogging
his memory with some further explanation; but I doubt if he then
remembered anything about me."

It was not such a leap from the New England writers to Whitman as one
might imagine. Mr. Burroughs spoke of Emerson's prompt and generous
indorsement of the first edition of "Leaves of Grass": "I give you joy
of your free, brave thought. I have great joy in it." This and much else
Emerson had written in a letter to Whitman. "It is the charter of an
emperor!" Dana had said when Whitman showed him the letter. The poet's
head was undoubtedly a little turned by praise from such a source,
and much to Emerson's annoyance, the letter was published in the next
edition of the "Leaves." Still Emerson and Whitman remained friends to
the last.

"Whitman was a child of the sea," said Mr. Burroughs; "nurtured by the
sea, cradled by the sea; he gave one the same sense of invigoration and
of illimitableness that we get from the sea. He never looked so much at
home as when on the shore--his gray clothes, gray hair, and far-seeing
blue-gray eyes blending with the surroundings. And his thoughts--the
same broad sweep, the elemental force and grandeur and all-embracingness
of the impartial sea!"

"Whitman never hurried," Mr. Burroughs continued; "he always seemed to
have infinite time at his disposal." It brought Whitman very near to
hear Mr. Burroughs say, "He used to take Sunday breakfasts with us in
Washington. Mrs. Burroughs makes capital pancakes, and Walt was very
fond of them; but he was always late to breakfast. The coffee would boil
over, the griddle would smoke, car after car would go jingling by,
and no Walt. Sometimes it got to be a little trying to have domestic
arrangements so interfered with; but a car would stop at last, Walt
would roll off it, and saunter up to the door--cheery, vigorous, serene,
putting every one in good humor. And how he ate! He radiated health
and hopefulness. This is what made his work among the sick soldiers in
Washington of such inestimable value. Every one that came into personal
relations with him felt his rare compelling charm."

It was all very well, this talk about the poets, but climbing
"break-neck stairs" on our way thither had given the guest an appetite,
and the host as well; and these appetites had to be appe