hor. He is a little deaf, and has a
mouth like the beak of a bird; indeed, he is, with his small body
and quick movements, very like a bird in his general aspect."

When Charles Kingsley was in Boston he met Holmes, who came in, frisked
about, and talked incessantly, Kingsley intervening with a few words
only occasionally. At last Holmes whisked himself away, saying, "And now
I must go." "He is an insp-sp-sp-ired j-j-j-h-ack-daw," said Kingsley.

Mr. Kennedy, in his life of the poet, thus describes him:--

"In person Holmes is a little under the medium height, though it
does not strike you so when you see him, especially on the street,
where he wears a tall silk hat and carries a cane. As a young man,
he was, like Longfellow, a good deal of an exquisite in dress; and
he has always been very neat and careful in his attire. He is quick
and nervous in his movements, and conveys, in speaking, the
impression of energy and intense vitality; and yet he has a poet's
sensitiveness to noises, and a dread of persons of superabundant
vitality and aggressiveness. When the fountain of laughter and
smiles is stirred within him his face lights up with a winning
expression, and a laughing, kindly glance of the eye. When he warms
up to a subject in conversation he is a very rapid, vivacious
speaker."

Dr. Holmes has been accused of being an egotist, and he undoubtedly does
like to talk of himself; but he talks always in such charming fashion
that nobody regrets the subject of his discourse, but would fain have
him go on and on without pause or limit. He is a hearty, happy man, who
is a good deal in love with life, and seldom dwells upon its darker
side. But he has a very earnest and serious side to his nature, and is
far from being a mere laughing philosopher. He enjoys out-of-door life,
as every poet must, and though he likes best to live in the city, he
takes great delight in the country also. He spent seven summers upon a
farm of his own in the enchanting Berkshire region, near Pittsfield, and
he says these seven summers stand in his memory like the seven golden
candlesticks seen in the beatific vision of the holy dreamer. He loves
rowing, racing, and walking through green country lanes. The New England
wild-flowers are especially dear to him, and he has all a poet's love
for that shyest and most beautiful of all, the trailing arbutus. He is
very fond also o