dson, at the entrance of the
Highlands, forty-two miles from New York. It was a fortified post during
the Revolution, captured by the British, and again retaken by the
Americans under Wayne. Anthony's Nose is also a promontory on the Hudson,
about fifteen miles above Stony Point.

LXIV. BILL AND JOE. (246)

Oliver Wendell Holmes, 1809-1894, was the son of Abiel Holmes, D.D. He was
born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and graduated at Harvard in 1829, having
for classmates several men who have since become distinguished. After
graduating, he studied law for about one year, and then turned his
attention to medicine. He studied his profession in Paris, and elsewhere
in Europe, and took his degree at Cambridge in 1836. In 1838 he was
appointed Professor of Anatomy and Physiology in Dartmouth College. He
remained here but a short time, and then returned to Boston and entered on
the practice of medicine. In 1847 he was appointed professor at Harvard,
filling a similar position to the one held at Dartmouth. He discharged the
duties of his professorship for more than thirty years, with great
success. Literature was never his profession; yet few American authors
attained higher success, both as a poet and as a prose writer. His poems
are lively and sparkling, abound in wit and humor, but are not wanting in
genuine pathos. Many of them were composed for special occasions. His
prose writings include works on medicine, essays, and novels; several
appeared first as contributions to the "Atlantic Monthly." He gained
reputation, also, as it popular lecturer. In person, Dr. Holmes was small
and active, with a face expressive of thought and vivacity.
###

Come, dear old comrade, you and I
Will steal an hour from days gone by--
The shining days when life was new,
And all was bright as morning dew,
The lusty days of long ago,
When you were Bill and I was Joe.

Your name may flaunt a titled trail
Proud as a cockerel's rainbow tail,
And mine as brief appendix wear
As Tam O'Shanter's luckless mare;
To-day, old friend, remember still
That I am Joe and you are Bill.

You've won the great world's envied prize,
And grand you look in people's eyes,
With HON. and LL. D.,
In big, brave letters fair to see,--
Your fist, old fellow! Off they go!--
How are you, Bill? How are you, Joe?

You've worn the judge's ermined robe;
You've taught your name to half the globe;
You've sung mankind a deathless strain;
You've made the dead past li