He never was too busy to fertilize a flower bed or to dig
holes for the setting of a tree or bush. A word constantly on his
lips was `tidy.' It applied equally to a woman, a house, a field,
or a barn lot. He had a streak of genius in his make-up: the
genius of large appreciation. Over inspired Biblical passages, over
great books, over sunlit landscapes, over a white violet abloom in
deep shade, over a heroic deed of man, I have seen his brow light
up, his eyes shine."
Mrs. Porter tells us that her father was constantly reading aloud
to his children and to visitors descriptions of the great deeds of
men. Two "hair-raisers" she especially remembers with increased
heart-beats to this day were the story of John Maynard, who piloted
a burning boat to safety while he slowly roasted at the wheel. She
says the old thrill comes back when she recalls the inflection of
her father's voice as he would cry in imitation of the captain:
"John Maynard!" and then give the reply. "Aye, aye, sir!" His other
until it sank to a mere gasp: favourite was the story of Clemanthe,
and her lover's immortal answer to her question: "Shall we meet again?"
To this mother at forty-six, and this father at fifty, each at
intellectual top-notch, every faculty having been stirred for years
by the dire stress of Civil War, and the period immediately
following, the author was born. From childhood she recalls
"thinking things which she felt should be saved," and frequently
tugging at her mother's skirts and begging her to "set down" what
the child considered stories and poems.
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