was not a branch of the Show Business； and might not be legitimately
worked by like advertising； though he truly loved and honored it。
I suppose it was not altogether a happy life； and Keeler had his moments
of amusing depression； which showed their shadows in his smiling face。
He was of a slight figure and low stature； with hands and feet of almost
womanish littleness。 He was very blonde； and his restless eyes were
blue； he wore his yellow beard in whiskers only； which he pulled
nervously but perhaps did not get to droop so much as he wished。
VIII。
Keeler was a native of Ohio； and there lived at Cambridge when I first
came there an Indianian； more accepted by literary society； who was of
real quality as a poet。 Forceythe Willson； whose poem of 〃The Old
Sergeant〃 Doctor Holmes used to read publicly in the closing year of the
civil war； was of a Western altitude of figure； and of an extraordinary
beauty of face in an oriental sort。 He had large； dark eyes with clouded
whites； his full； silken beard was of a flashing Persian blackness。
He was excessively nervous； to such an extreme that when I first met him
at Longfellow's； he could not hold himself still in his chair。 I think
this was an effect of shyness in him； as well as physical； for afterwards
when I went to find him in his own house he was much more at ease。
He preferred to receive me in the dim； large hall after opening his door
to me himself； and we sat down there and talked； I remember； of
supernatural things。 He was much interested in spiritualism； and he had
several stories to tell of his own experience in such matters。 But none
was so good as one which I had at second hand from Lowell； who thought it
almost the best ghost story he had ever heard。 The spirit of Willson's
father appeared to him； and stood before him。 Willson was accustomed to
apparitions； and so he said simply； 〃Won't you sit down； father？〃 The
phantom put out his hand to lay hold of a chair…back as some people do in
taking a seat； and his shadowy arm passed through the frame…work。
〃Ah！〃 he said； 〃I forgot that I was not substance。〃
I do not know whether 〃The Old Sergeant〃 is ever read now； it has
probably passed with other great memories of the great war； and I am
afraid none of Willson's other verse is remembered。 But he was then a
distinct literary figure； and not to be left out of the count of our
poets。 I did not see him again。 Shortly afterwards I heard that he had
left Cambridge with signs of consumption； which must have run a rapid
course； for a very little later came the news of his death。
IX。
The most devoted Cantabrigian； after Lowell； whom I knew； would perhaps
have contended that if he had stayed with us Willson might have lived；
for John Holmes affirmed a faith in the virtues of the place which
ascribed almost an aseptic character to its air； and when he once
listened to my own complaints of an obstinate cold； he cheered himself；
if not me； with the declaration； 〃Well； one thing； Mr。 Howells； Cambridge
never let a man keep a cold yet！〃
If he had said it was better to live in Cambridge with a cold than
elsewhere without one I should have believed him； as it was； Cambridge
bore him out in his assertion； though she took her own time to do it。
Lowell had talked to me of him before I met him； celebrating his peculiar
humor with that affection which was not always so discriminating； and
Holmes was one of the first Cambridge men I knew。 I knew him first in
the charming old Colonial house in which his famous brother and he were
born。 It was demolished long before I left Cambridge； but in memory it
still stands on the ground since occupied by the Hemenway Gymnasium； and
shows for me through that bulk a phantom frame of Continental buff in the
shadow of elms that are shadows themselves。 The 'genius loci' was
limping about the pleasant mansion with the rheumatism which then
expressed itself to his friends in a resolute smile； but which now
insists upon being an essential trait of the full…length presence to my
mind： a short stout figure； helped out with a cane； and a grizzled head
with features formed to win the heart rather than the eye of the
beholder。
In one of his own eyes there was a cast of such winning humor and
geniality that it took the liking more than any beauty could have done；
and the sweetest； shy laugh in the world went with this cast。
I long wished to get him to write something for the Magazine； and at last
I prevailed with him to review a history of Cambridge which had come out。
He did it charmingly of course； for he loved more to speak of Cambridge
than anything else。 He held his native town in an idolatry which was not
blind； but which was none the less devoted because he was aware of her
droll points and her weak points。 He always celebrated these as so many
virtues； and I think it was my own passion for her that first commended
me to him。 I was not her son； but he felt that this was my misfortune
more than my fault； and he seemed more and more to forgive it。 After we
had got upon the terms of editor and contributor； we met oftener than
before； though I do not now remember that I ever persuaded him to write
again for me。 Once he gave me something； and then took it back； with a
self…distrust of it which I could not overcome。
When the Holmes house was taken down； he went to live with an old
domestic in a small house on the street amusingly called Appian Way。 He
had certain rooms of her； and his own table； but he would not allow that
he was ever anything but a lodger in the place； where he continued till
he died。 In the process of time he came so far to trust his experience
of me； that he formed the habit of giving me an annual supper。 Some days
before this event； he would appear in my study； and with divers delicate
and tentative approaches； nearly always of the same tenor； he would say
that he should like to ask my family to an oyster supper with him。 〃But
you know；〃 he would explain； 〃I haven't a house of my own to ask you to；
and I should like to give you the supper here。〃 When I had agreed to
this suggestion with due gravity； he would inquire our engagements； and
then say； as if a great load were off his mind； 〃Well； then； I will send
up a few oysters to…morrow；〃 or whatever day we had fixed on； and after a
little more talk to take the strangeness out of the affair； would go his
way。 On the day appointed the fish…man would come with several gallons
of oysters； which he reported Mr。 Holmes had asked him to bring； and in
the evening the giver of the feast would reappear； with a lank oil…cloth
bag； sagged by some bottles of wine。 There was always a bottle of red
wine； and sometimes a bottle of champagne； and he had taken the
precaution to send some crackers beforehand； so that the supper should be
as entirely of his own giving as possible。 He was forced to let us do
the cooking and to supply the cold…slaw； and perhaps he indemnified
himself for putting us to these charges and for the use of our linen and
silver； by the vast superfluity of his oysters； with which we remained
inundated for days。 He did not care to eat many himself； but seemed
content to fancy doing us a pleasure； and I have known few greater ones
in life； than in the hospitality that so oddly played the host to us at
our own table。
It must have seemed incomprehensible to such a Cantabrigian that we
should ever have been willing to leave Cambridge； and in fact I do not
well understand it myself。 But if he resented it； he never showed his
resentment。 As often as I happened to meet him after our defection he
used me with unabated kindness； and sparkled into some gaiety too
ethereal for remembrance。 The last time I met him was at Lowell's
funeral； when I drove home with him and Curtis and Child； and in the
revulsion from the stress of that saddest event； had our laugh； as people
do in the presence of death； at something droll we remembered of the
friend we mourned。
My nearest literary neighbor； when we lived in Sacramento Street； was the
Rev。 Dr。 John G。 Palfrey； the historian of New England； whose chimney…
tops amid the pine…tops I could see from my study window when the leaves
were off the little grove of oaks between us。 He was one of the first of
my acquaintances； not suffering the great disparity of our ages to count
against me； but tactfully and sweetly adjusting himself to my youth in
the friendly intercourse which he invited。 He was a most gentle and
kindly old man； with still an interest in liberal things which lasted
till the infirmities of age secluded him from the world and all its
interests。 As is known； he had been in his prime one of the foremost of
the New England anti…slavery men； and he had fought the good fight with a
heavy heart for a brother long settled in Louisiana who sided with the
South； and who after the civil war found himself disfranchised。 In this
temporary disability he came North to visit Doctor Palfrey upon the
doctor's insistence； though at first he would have nothing to do with
him； and refused even to answer his letters。 〃Of course；〃 the doctor
said； 〃I was not going to stand that from my mother's son； and I simply
kept on writing。〃 So he prevailed； but the fiery old gentleman from
Louisiana was reconciled to nothing in the North but his brother； and
when he came to return my visit； he quickly touched upon his cause of
quarrel with us。 〃I can't vote；〃 he declared； 〃but my coachman can； and
I don't know how I'm to get the suffrage； unless my physician paints me
all over with the iodine he's using for my rheumatic side。〃
Doctor Palfrey was most distinctly of the Brahminical caste and was long
an eminent Unitarian minister； but at the time I began to know him he had
long quitted the pulpit。 He was so far of civic or public character as
to be postmaster at Boston； when we were first neighbors； but this
officiality was probably so little in keeping with his nature that it was
like a return to his truer self when he ceased to hold the place； and
gave his time altogether to his history。 It is a work which will hardly
be superseded in the interest of those who value thorough res