"
At Danvers he was able to enjoy the free open air. He loved to sit
under the fine trees which distinguished the lawn, to play with the
dogs, and wander about unmolested until he was tired. The ladies of
the house exerted themselves to give him perfect freedom and the
tenderest care. The daughter became his playmate, and she never quite
grew up, in his estimation. She was his lively and loving companion.
Writing from Danvers, one December, he says, "What with the child, and
the dogs, and Rip Van Winkle the cat, and a tame gray squirrel who
hunts our pockets for nuts, we contrive to get through the short dark
days."
Again: "I am thankful that February has come, and that the sun is
getting high on his northern journey. The past month has been trying
to flesh and spirit.... I am afraid my letter has a complaining tone,
and I am rather ashamed of it, and shall be more so when my head is
less out of order.... There are two gray squirrels playing in my room.
Phoebe calls them Deacon Josiah and his wife Philury, after Rose Terry
Cooke's story of the minister's 'week of works' in the place of a
'week of prayer.'"
He showed more physical vitality after he went to Danvers, and his
notes evince a wide interest in matters private and public outside his
own library life. He still went to Portland to see his niece and her
husband whenever he was able, and now and then to Boston also. But
Philadelphia at the time of the Centennial was not to be thought of.
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