parlor is the desk on which "Snow-Bound" was written, also "The
Tent on the Beach" and other poems of this period. The success of
these poems enabled him to buy a somewhat better desk, now to be seen
in the "garden room," where this desk formerly stood. In this desk are
presentation copies of many books, with the autographs of their
authors--Harriet Beecher Stowe, Lydia Maria Child, Miss Mitford, Julia
Ward Howe, John Hay, T. B. Aldrich, and others. Here also is the diary
kept by Elizabeth Whittier, in the years 1835-37, covering the period
of the removal from Haverhill to Amesbury. Of antiquarian interest is
an account-book of the Whittier family, from 1786 to 1800, going into
minute details of household expenses, and containing many times
repeated the autographs of Whittier's grandfather, his father, and his
uncles Moses and Obadiah, who recorded their annual settlements of
accounts in this book. Near the desk are bound volumes of papers
edited by Whittier--the "New England Review" of 1830, the "Pennsylvania
Freeman" of 1840, and the "National Era" of 1847-50. These contain much
of his prose and verse never collected. The Rogers group of statuary
representing Whittier, Beecher, and Garrison listening to the story of
a fugitive slave girl, who holds an infant in her arms, is in the
corner of the room, where it has been for about thirty years. The
garden, in the care of which Mr. Whittier took much pleasure, comprises
about one half acre of land. He had peach, apple, and pear trees--but
the peaches gave out and were not renewed. He also raised grapes,
quinces, and small fruit in abundance. The rosebush he prized as his
mother's favorite is still flourishing, as are also the fine magnolia,
laburnum, and cut-leaved birch of his planting. The ash tree in front
of the house was planted by his mother.

While gathering grapes in an arbor in this garden, in 1847, Mr.
Whittier received a bullet wound in the cheek. Two boys were firing at
a mark on the grounds of a neighbor, and this mark was near where
Whittier stood, but on account of a high fence they did not see him.
When the bullet struck him, he was so concerned lest his mother should
be alarmed by the accident that he said nothing, not even notifying the
boys. He bound up his bleeding face in a handkerchief and called on Dr.
Sparhawk, who lived near. As soon as the wound was dressed, he came
home and gave his family their first notice of the accident. The boys
had not the