Vol. I. | FEBRUARY, 1865. | No. II. |
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by Ticknorand Fields. in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of theDistrict of Massachusetts.
ho of my young friends have read the sorrowful story of “Enoch Arden,”so sweetly and simply told by the great English poet? It is the story ofa man who went to sea, leaving behind a sweet young wife and littledaughter. He was cast away on a desert island, where he remained severalyears, when he was discovered, and taken off by a passing vessel. Comingback to his native town, he found his wife married to an oldplaymate,—a good man, rich and honored, and with whom she was livinghappily. The poor man, unwilling to cause her pain and perplexity,resolved not to make himself known to her, and lived and died alone. Thepoem has reminded me of a very similar story of my own New Englandneighborhood, which I have often heard, and which I will try to tell,not in poetry, like Alfred Tennyson's, but in my own poor prose. I canassure my readers that in its main particulars it is a true tale.
One bright summer morning, more than threescore years ago, David Matson,with his young wife and his two healthy, barefooted boys, stood on thebank of the river near their dwelling. They were waiting there forPelatiah Curtis to come round the Point with his wherry, and take thehusband and father to the Port, a few miles below. The Lively Turtle wasPg 82about to sail on a voyage to Spain, and David was to go in her as mate.They stood there in the level morning sunshine talking cheerfully; buthad you been near enough, you could have seen tears i