No man of even
average feeling but would be moved by such fresh, such spontaneous
admiration! Thus, if our divinity melodiously piped, we did very
radiantly dance to his piping.
Oh! Heber Pogson enjoyed it. Never tell me he didn't revel in those
highly articulate evenings of monologue, gasconade, heated yet
brotherly argument, lasting on to midnight and after, every bit as much
as we did! Anyhow at first. Later he may have had twinges, been
sensible of strain; though never, I still believe, a very severe one.
In any case, Nature showed herself his friend--his saviour, if also, in
some sort, his executioner. When the strain tended to become
distressing, for him personally, very simply and cleverly, she found a
way out.
A background of dark legend only brought the steady glow of his--and
our--present felicity into richer relief. We gathered hints of, caught
in passing smiling allusion to, straitened and impecunious early years.
He had endured a harsh enough apprenticeship to the profession of
letters in its least satisfactory, because most ephemeral, form--namely
journalism, and provincial journalism at that.
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