n Portland, where all
the money nearly was Spanish--and the hundred and one things dear to
the hearts of children and sailors.

Longfellow's boyhood was almost a reproduction of that of some Puritan
ancestor a century before. He attended the village school, played ball
in summer and skated in winter, went to church twice every Sunday,
and, when service was over, looked at the curious pictures in the
family Bible, and heard from his mother's lips the stories of David
and Jonathan and Joseph, and at all times had food for his imagination
in the view of bay stretching seaward, on one hand, and on the other
valley farms and groves spreading out to the west.

But although the life was severe in its simplicity, it was most sweet
and wholesome for the children who grew up in the home nest, guarded
by the love that was felt rather than expressed, and guided into noble
conceptions of the beauty and dignity of living. This home atmosphere
impressed itself upon Longfellow unconsciously, as did the poetic
influences of nature, and had just as lasting and inspiring an effect
upon his character, so that truth, duty, fine courage were always
associated with the freshness of spring, the early dawn, the summer
sunshine, and the lingering sadness of twilight.

It is the spiritual insight, thus early developed, that gives to
Longfellow's poetry some of its greatest charms.

It was during his school-boy days that Longfellow published his first
bit of verse. It was inspired by hearing the story of a famous fight
which took place on the shores of a small lake called Lovell's
Pond, between the hero Lovell and the Indians. Longfellow was deeply
impressed by this story and threw his feeling of admiration into four
stanzas, which he carried with a beating heart down to the letter-box
of the _Portland Gazette_, taking an opportunity to slip the
manuscript in when no one was looking.

A few days later Longfellow watched his father unfold the paper, read
it slowly before the fire, and finally leave the room, when the sheet
was grasped by the boy and his sister, who shared his confidence,
and hastily scanned. The poem was there in the "Poets' Corner" of the
_Gazette_, and Longfellow was so filled with joy that he spent the
greater part of the remainder of the day in reading and re-reading
the verses, becoming convinced toward evening that they possessed
remarkable merit. His happiness was dimmed, however, a few hours
later, when the father of