strained at the giants, fat women, flying horses,
dwarfs, and mermaids, only taking their eyes away long enough to
regale themselves with the ginger-beer and egg-pop, sold on the stands
or wheeled through the streets in hand-carts by the enterprising
venders. The college exercises were dignified and grave, as suited the
traditions of its classic halls, but to the boys who, like Lowell, had
but this one opportunity in the year, the marvels of the booths and
peep-shows made Commencement a red-letter day.

Another charm of old Cambridge was found in the river, which to the
boyish imagination led to fairy realms beyond. Once a year the sloop
Harvard, owned by the college, voyaged to the Maine coast to carry
back the winter supply of wood. Her going and coming was an event in
the life of the Cambridge schoolboy, who watched the departure with
wistful eyes, filled the time of absence with romantic imaginings of
adventure in the perilous seas, and welcomed her return with eager
thirst for the news she might bring. This humble little craft held no
secondary place in the interests of Lowell and his mates. The heroic
adventures of her crew inspired the boys to bold ventures on the duck
pond, the admiral of the home-made fleet being the young Dana, who
delighted an after-generation of boys by the story of his actual
adventures at sea in the fascinating book, _Two Years Before the
Mast_.

Lowell's first school was not far from Elmwood, and although he did
not distinguish himself for scholarship, he went willingly every
day, returning rather more willingly, perhaps, and sending always his
boyish salutation of a cheery whistle to his mother as he approached
the house. But in the daily life of the old village, and in the
rambles through wood and by stream, he learned lessons more valuable
than those he found in books. Nature, who appealed so strongly to his
heart, had made him a poet, and she took her own way of teaching him
the mysteries of his art.

Lowell enjoyed his singularly fortunate and happy boyhood as only
one gifted with a poetic mind could. To him New England village life
revealed a charm that enabled him in after-days to paint a picture
of it as lovingly faithful as one of Shakespeare's scenes. In his
charming reminiscence, _Cambridge Thirty Years Ago_, he has preserved
one of the dearest memories of his boyhood. _Beaver Brook_ and _Indian
Summer Reveries_ are also transcriptions of those idyllic days of his
youth.