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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Eben Holden, a tale of the north country"

They have sumthin' t' say on this
subject. The poem hints at things he'd ought 'o learn purty soon - if
he don't know 'em now.'
The old poet felt in his pockets as he spoke, and withdrew a folded
sheet of straw-coloured wrapping paper and opened it. I was 'Bill'
-plain 'Bill' - to everybody in that country, where, as you increased
your love of a man, you diminished his name. I had been called
Willie, William and Billy, and finally, when I threw the strong
man of the township in a wrestling match they gave me this fail
token of confidence. I bent over the shoulder of Jed Feary for a
view of the manuscript, closely written with a lead pencil, and
marked with many erasures.
'Le's hear it,' said David Brower.
Then I moved the lamp to his elbow and he began reading:
'A talk with William Brower on the occasion of his going
away to college and writ out in rhyme for him by his friend
Jedediah Feary to be a token of respect.
The man that loses faith in God, ye'll find out every time,
Has found a faith in his own self that's mighty nigh sublime.


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