Suddenly the boy heard Miss Alcott say: "Have you read this new book by Ruskin yet?"Slowly the great master of thought lifted his eyes from his desk, turned toward the speaker, rose with stately courtesy from his chair, and, bowing to Miss Alcott, said with great deliberation: "Did you speak to me, madam?"The boy was dumfounded! Louisa Alcott, his Louisa! And he did not know her! Suddenly the whole sad truth flashed upon the boy.Tears sprang into Miss Alcott's eyes, and she walked to the other side of the room.
The boy did not know what to say or do, so he sat silent.With a deliberate movement Emerson resumed his seat, and slowly his eyes roamed over the boy sitting at the side of the desk.He felt he should say something.
"I thought, perhaps, Mr.Emerson," he said, "that you might be able to favor me with a letter from Carlyle."At the mention of the name Carlyle his eyes lifted, and he asked:
"Carlyle, did you say, sir, Carlyle?"
"Yes," said the boy, "Thomas Carlyle."
"Ye-es," Emerson answered slowly."To be sure, Carlyle.Yes, he was here this morning.He will be here again to-morrow morning," he added gleefully, almost like a child.
Then suddenly: "You were saying--"
Edward repeated his request.
"Oh, I think so, I think so," said Emerson, to the boy's astonishment.
"Let me see.Yes, here in this drawer I have many letters from Carlyle."At these words Miss Alcott came from the other part of the room, her wet eyes dancing with pleasure and her face wreathed in smiles.
"I think we can help this young man; do you not think so, Louisa?" said Emerson, smiling toward Miss Alcott.The whole atmosphere of the room had changed.How different the expression of his eyes as now Emerson looked at the boy! "And you have come all the way from New York to ask me that!" he said smilingly as the boy told him of his trip."Now, let us see," he said, as he delved in a drawer full of letters.
For a moment he groped among letters and papers, and then, softly closing the drawer, he began that ominous low whistle once more, looked inquiringly at each, and dropped his eyes straightway to the papers before him on his desk.It was to be only for a few moments, then! Miss Alcott turned away.
The boy felt the interview could not last much longer.So, anxious to have some personal souvenir of the meeting, he said: "Mr.Emerson, will you be so good as to write your name in this book for me?" and he brought out an album he had in his pocket.
"Name?" he asked vaguely.
"Yes, please," said the boy, "your name: Ralph Waldo Emerson."But the sound of the name brought no response from the eyes.
"Please write out the name you want," he said finally, "and I will copy it for you if I can."It was hard for the boy to believe his own senses.But picking up a pen he wrote: "Ralph Waldo Emerson, Concord; November 22, 1881."Emerson looked at it, and said mournfully: "Thank you." Then he picked up the pen, and writing the single letter "R" stopped, followed his finger until it reached the "W" of Waldo, and studiously copied letter by letter! At the word "Concord" he seemed to hesitate, as if the task were too great, but finally copied again, letter by letter, until the second "c" was reached."Another 'o,'" he said, and interpolated an extra letter in the name of the town which he had done so much to make famous the world over.When he had finished he handed back the book, in which there was written:
R.Waldo Emerson Concord November 22, 1881The boy put the book into his pocket; and as he did so Emerson's eye caught the slip on his desk, in the boy's handwriting, and, with a smile of absolute enlightenment, he turned and said:
"You wish me to write my name? With pleasure.Have you a book with you?"Overcome with astonishment, Edward mechanically handed him the album once more from his pocket.Quickly turning over the leaves, Emerson picked up the pen, and pushing aside the slip, wrote without a moment's hesitation:
Ralph Waldo Emerson Concord The boy was almost dazed at the instantaneous transformation in the man!
Miss Alcott now grasped this moment to say: "Well, we must be going!""So soon?" said Emerson, rising and smiling.Then turning to Miss Alcott he said: "It was very kind of you, Louisa, to run over this morning and bring your young friend."Then turning to the boy he said: "Thank you so much for coming to see me.You must come over again while you are with the Alcotts.Good morning! Isn't it a beautiful day out?" he said, and as he shook the boy's hand there was a warm grasp in it, the fingers closed around those of the boy, and as Edward looked into those deep eyes they twinkled and smiled back.
The going was all so different from the coming.The boy was grateful that his last impression was of a moment when the eye kindled and the hand pulsated.
The two walked back to the Alcott home in an almost unbroken silence.
Once Edward ventured to remark:
"You can have no idea, Miss Alcott, how grateful I am to you.""Well, my boy," she answered, "Phillips Brooks may be right: that it is something to have seen him even so, than not to have seen him at all.
But to us it is so sad, so very sad.The twilight is gently closing in."And so it proved--just five months afterward.
Eventful day after eventful day followed in Edward's Boston visit.The following morning he spent with Wendell Phillips, who presented him with letters from William Lloyd Garrison, Lucretia Mott, and other famous persons; and then, writing a letter of introduction to Charles Francis Adams, whom he enjoined to give the boy autograph letters from his two presidential forbears, John Adams and John Quincy Adams, sent Edward on his way rejoicing.Mr.Adams received the boy with equal graciousness and liberality.Wonderful letters from the two Adamses were his when he left.
And then, taking the train for New York, Edward Bok went home, sitting up all night in a day-coach for the double purpose of saving the cost of a sleeping-berth and of having a chance to classify and clarify the events of the most wonderful week in his life!
