e "something" he had to send Longfellow
was Edward himself, although the boy did not see through the subterfuge
at that time.

"And now, if you are going, I'll walk along with you if you don't mind,
for I'm going down to Park Street to thank my publishers for these
little books, and that lies along your way to the Cambridge car."

As the two walked along Beacon Street, Doctor Holmes pointed out the
residences where lived people of interest, and when they reached the
Public Garden he said:

"You must come over in the spring some time, and see the tulips and
croci and hyacinths here. They are so beautiful.

"Now, here is your car," he said as he hailed a coming horse-car.
"Before you go back you must come and see me and tell me all the people
you have seen; will you? I should like to hear about them. I may not
have more books coming in, but I might have a very good-looking
photograph of a very old-looking little man," he said as his eyes
twinkled. "Give my love to Longfellow when you see him, and don't forget
to give him my letter, you know. It is about a very important matter."

And when the boy had ridden a mile or so with his fare in his hand he
held it out to the conductor, who grinned and said:

"That's all right. Doctor Holmes paid me your fare, and I'm going to
keep that nickel if I lose my job for it."

V. Going to the Theatre with Longfellow

When Edward Bok stood before the home of Longfellow, he realized that he
was to see the man around whose head the boy's youthful reading had cast
a sort of halo. And when he saw the head itself he had a feeling that he
could see the halo. No kindlier pair of eyes ever looked at a boy, as,
with a smile, "the white Mr. Longfellow," as Mr. Howells had called him,
held out his hand.

"I am very glad to see you, my boy," were his first words, and with them
he won the boy. Edward smiled back at the poet, and immediately the two
were friends.

"I have been taking a walk this beautiful morning," he said next, "and
am a little late getting at my mail. Suppose you come in and sit at my
desk with me, and we will see what the postman has brought. He brings me
so many good things, you know."

"Now, here is a little girl," he said, as he sat down at the desk with
the boy beside him, "who wants my autograph and a 'sentiment.' What
sentiment, I wonder, shall I send her?"

"Why not send her 'Let us, then, be up and doing'?" suggested the boy.
"That's what I should like