A Noted Traveler

Even in such a scene of senseless play     The children were surprised one summer-day     By a strange man who called across the fence,     Inquiring for their father's residence;     And, being answered that this was the place,     Opened the gate, and with a radiant face,     Came in and sat down with them in the shade     And waited - till the absent father made     His noon appearance, with a warmth and zest     That told he had no ordinary guest     In this man whose low-spoken name he knew     At once, demurring as the stranger drew     A stuffy notebook out and turned and set     A big fat finger on a page and let     The writing thereon testify instead     Of further speech. And as the father read     All silently, the curious children took     Exacting inventory both of book     And man: - He wore a long-napped white fur-hat     Pulled firmly on his head, and under that     Rather long silvery hair, or iron-gray -     For he was not an old man, - anyway,     Not beyond sixty. And he wore a pair     Of square-framed spectacles - or rather there     Were two more than a pair, - the extra two     Flared at the corners, at the eyes' side-view,     In as redundant vision as the eyes     Of grasshoppers or bees or dragonflies.     Later the children heard the father say     He was "A Noted Traveler," and would stay     Some days with them - In which time host and guest     Discussed, alone, in deepest interest,     Some vague, mysterious matter that defied     The wistful children, loitering outside     The spare-room door. There Bud acquired a quite     New list of big words - such as "Disunite,"     And "Shibboleth," and "Aristocracy,"     And "Juggernaut," and "Squatter Sovereignty,"     And "Anti-slavery," "Emancipate,"     "Irrepressible conflict," and "The Great     Battle of Armageddon" - obviously     A pamphlet brought from Washington, D. C.,     And spread among such friends as might occur     Of like views with "The Noted Traveler."