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Pope (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
My first prize that I took home was Gibbon's Decline and fall, in four volumes, because it was associated with Brynford lessons. I devoured it now for its own sake. Little by little, I acquired Spenser's Faery Queen, Tasso's Jerusalem delivered, Pope's Iliad, Dryden's Odyssey, Paradise lost, Plutarch's Lives, Simplicius on Epictetus, a big History of the United States, the last of which I sadly needed, because of my utter ignorance of the country I was in. Mrs. Williams gave me a few empty ected my dreams, for I dreamed of the things that I had read. I was transported into Trojan Fields, and Odyssean Isles, and Roman Palaces; and my saturated brain revolved prose as stately as Gibbon's, and couplets that might have been a credit to Pope, only, if I chanced to remember at daybreak what I had been busy upon throughout the night, the metre and rhyme were shameful! My self-indulgence in midnight readings was hurtful to my eyes, but they certainly interposed between me and other ha
Irving (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
squares; and, later, we took a short railway trip to Lake Ponchartrain, which is a fair piece of water, and is a great resort for bathers. When we returned to the city, late in the evening, I was fairly instructed in the topography of the city and neighbourhood, and had passed a most agreeable and eventful day. On the next evening, I found a parcel addressed to me, which, when opened, disclosed a dozen new books in splendid green and blue covers, bearing the names of Shakespeare, Byron, Irving, Goldsmith, Ben Jonson, Cowper, etc. They were a gift from Mr. Stanley, and in each book was his autograph. The summer of 1859, according to Mr. Richardson, was extremely unhealthy. Yellow fever and dysentery were raging. What a sickly season meant I could not guess; for, in those days, I never read a newspaper, and the city traffic, to all appearance, was much as usual. On Mr. Speake's face, however, I noticed lines of suffering; and one day he was so ill that he could not attend to b
Windermere (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
Take it easy, little boss, don't kill yourself. Plenty of time. Leave something for to-morrow. Had the mates of the Windermere but looked in upon us, they might have learned that a happy crew had more work in them, than when driven by belaying-pi store for want of a little sewing or coopering — tasks which they felt it to be beneath them to do! Long before the Windermere had sailed back for Liver-pool with her cotton cargo, a great change had come over me. Up to my arrival in New Orleans,dly attached to associations, which made me weep on leaving St. Asaph, Ffynnon Beuno, Brynford, Liverpool, and even the Windermere, made me cling to my attic room in the house of Mrs. Williams. My increase of pay enabled me to secure a larger and mo to the hellish brutality of Americans at sea, the steward apparently having been as callous and cruel as Nelson of the Windermere ; and, no sooner had his ship touched the pier, than the boy fled, as from a fury. Scarcely anything could have been b
Byron (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
ks, and squares; and, later, we took a short railway trip to Lake Ponchartrain, which is a fair piece of water, and is a great resort for bathers. When we returned to the city, late in the evening, I was fairly instructed in the topography of the city and neighbourhood, and had passed a most agreeable and eventful day. On the next evening, I found a parcel addressed to me, which, when opened, disclosed a dozen new books in splendid green and blue covers, bearing the names of Shakespeare, Byron, Irving, Goldsmith, Ben Jonson, Cowper, etc. They were a gift from Mr. Stanley, and in each book was his autograph. The summer of 1859, according to Mr. Richardson, was extremely unhealthy. Yellow fever and dysentery were raging. What a sickly season meant I could not guess; for, in those days, I never read a newspaper, and the city traffic, to all appearance, was much as usual. On Mr. Speake's face, however, I noticed lines of suffering; and one day he was so ill that he could not att
Barney Williams (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
new no lodging-house. In consulting with Dan, he said he knew a Mrs. Williams, who kept a nice, cheap boarding-house on St. Thomas Street, wch-buckets swung heavily, I thought, as they moved homeward. Mrs. Williams, a young and black beauty, with intelligent features, was most the Windermere, made me cling to my attic room in the house of Mrs. Williams. My increase of pay enabled me to secure a larger and more comeded, because of my utter ignorance of the country I was in. Mrs. Williams gave me a few empty cases, out of which, with the loan of a saw to breakfast with me, and made himself especially agreeable to Mrs. Williams and her guests; after which, we went to church, and thence he tever saw either of them again. About this time there came to Mrs. Williams's boarding-house a blue-eyed and fair-haired lad, of about my ohy. At the closing hour I sped homeward, but, on arriving at Mrs. Williams's, I was told Alice had not been seen since the early morning.
Cowper (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
short railway trip to Lake Ponchartrain, which is a fair piece of water, and is a great resort for bathers. When we returned to the city, late in the evening, I was fairly instructed in the topography of the city and neighbourhood, and had passed a most agreeable and eventful day. On the next evening, I found a parcel addressed to me, which, when opened, disclosed a dozen new books in splendid green and blue covers, bearing the names of Shakespeare, Byron, Irving, Goldsmith, Ben Jonson, Cowper, etc. They were a gift from Mr. Stanley, and in each book was his autograph. The summer of 1859, according to Mr. Richardson, was extremely unhealthy. Yellow fever and dysentery were raging. What a sickly season meant I could not guess; for, in those days, I never read a newspaper, and the city traffic, to all appearance, was much as usual. On Mr. Speake's face, however, I noticed lines of suffering; and one day he was so ill that he could not attend to business. Three or four days la
Hall (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
Truly, a boy is easily pleased! I had more joy in contemplating that first trunk of mine, and imprisoning my treasures under lock and key, than I have had in any property since! My rating was now a junior clerk. Our next-door neighbours, Messrs. Hall and Kemp, employed two junior clerks, whose pay was four hundred dollars a year. They were happy, careless lads, who dressed well, and whose hardest toil was with the marking-pot. I was now as presentable as they, but I own to be proud that readings was hurtful to my eyes, but they certainly interposed between me and other harms. The passion of study was so absorbing that it effectually prevented the intrusion of other passions, while it did not conflict with day-work at the store. Hall and Kemp's young gentlemen sometimes awoke in me a languid interest in Ben de Bar's Theatrical troupe, or in some great actor; but, on reaching home, my little library attracted my attention, and a dip into a page soon effaced all desire for other
John Rowlands (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
for advice as to how to get it. So, he ejaculated, tilting his chair back again. You are friendless in a strange land, eh, and want work to begin making your fortune, eh? Well, what work can you do? Can you read? What book is that in your pocket? It is my Bible, a present from our Bishop. Oh, yes, sir, I can read, I replied proudly. He held out his hand and said, Let me see your Bible. He opened it at the fly-leaves, and smiled, as he read the inscription, Presented to John Rowlands by the Right Revd. Thomas Vowler Short, D. D., Lord Bishop of St. Asaph, for diligent application to his studies, and general good conduct. January 5th, 1855. Returning it to me, he pointed to an article in his newspaper, and said, Read that. It was something about a legislative assembly, which I delivered, as he said, very correctly, but with an un-American accent. Can you write well? he next asked. Yes, sir, a good round-hand, as I have been told. Then let me see you
House (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
owne puts it, of a constitution so general that it consorted and sympathised with things American. My British antipathies and proclivities were dropping from me as rapidly as the littlenesses of my servile life were replaced by the felicities of freedom. I shared in the citizens' pride in their splendid port, the length and stability of their levee, their unparalleled lines of shipping, their magnificent array of steamers, and their majestic river. I believed, with them, that their Custom-House, when completed, would be a matchless edifice, that Canal Street was unequalled for its breadth, that Tchapitoulas Street was, beyond compare, the busiest street in the world, that no markets equalled those of New Orleans for their variety of produce, and that no city, not even Liverpool, could exhibit such mercantile enterprise, or such a smart go-ahead spirit, as old and young manifested in the chief city of the South. I am not sure that I have lost all that lively admiration yet, though
Thomas Vowler Short (search for this): part 1.4, chapter 1.8
he ejaculated, tilting his chair back again. You are friendless in a strange land, eh, and want work to begin making your fortune, eh? Well, what work can you do? Can you read? What book is that in your pocket? It is my Bible, a present from our Bishop. Oh, yes, sir, I can read, I replied proudly. He held out his hand and said, Let me see your Bible. He opened it at the fly-leaves, and smiled, as he read the inscription, Presented to John Rowlands by the Right Revd. Thomas Vowler Short, D. D., Lord Bishop of St. Asaph, for diligent application to his studies, and general good conduct. January 5th, 1855. Returning it to me, he pointed to an article in his newspaper, and said, Read that. It was something about a legislative assembly, which I delivered, as he said, very correctly, but with an un-American accent. Can you write well? he next asked. Yes, sir, a good round-hand, as I have been told. Then let me see you mark that coffee-sack, with the same add
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