In fact I lived a sort of dual life, and in a world of fancy, as well as in the world of plain matter-of-fact about me. This was about the first poetry I had ever read, (with the exception of that of the Bible, of which I had been a close student,) and it had a lasting influence upon me I began to make rhymes myself, and to imagine stories and adventures. I begged him to leave the book with me and set myself at once to the task of mastering the glossary of the Scottish dialect at its close. When I was fourteen years old my first school-master, Joshua Coffin, the able, eccentric historian of Newbury, brought with him to our house a volume of Burns’ poems, from which he read, greatly to my delight. I was early fond of reading, and now and then heard of a book of biography or travel, and walked miles to borrow it. We had only about twenty volumes of books, most of them the journals of pioneer ministers in our society. A curving line of morning mist marked the course of the Merrimac, and Great Pond, or Kenoza, stretched away from the foot of the hill towards the village of Haverhill hidden from sight by intervening hills and woods, but which sent to us the sound of its two church bells. From the top of the hill I could see the blue outline of the Deerfield mountains in New Hampshire, and the solitary peak of Agamenticus on the coast of Maine. ![]() I think I rather enjoyed staying at home and wandering in the woods, or climbing Job’s hill, which rose abruptly from the brook which rippled down at the foot of our garden. ![]() father and mother, and sometimes one of the children, rode down to the Friends’ Meeting-house in Amesbury, eight miles distant. At an early age I was set at work on the farm, and doing errands for my mother, who, in addition to her ordinary house duties, was busy in spinning and weaving the linen and woolen cloth needed in the family. Our school was only for twelve weeks in a year,- in the depth of winter, and half a mile distant. Our home was somewhat lonely, half hidden in oak woods, with no house in sight, and we had few companions of our age, and few occasions of recreation. Both my parents were members of the Society of Friends. The farm was not a very profitable one it was burdened with debt and we had no spare money but with strict economy we lived comfortably and respectably. A bachelor uncle and a maiden aunt, both of whom I remember with much affection, lived in the family. My mother was Abigail Hussey, of Rollinsford, N. For a great many years he was one of the Selectmen of the town, and was often called upon to act as arbitrator H matters at issue between neighbors. ![]() My father was a farmer, in moderate circumstances,-a man of good natural ability, and sound judgment. Read Whittiers own words about his life >I was born on the 17th of December, 1807, in the easterly part of Haverhill, Mass., in the house built by my first American ancestor, two hundred years ago. I can say with Canning’s knife-grinder: "Story, God bless you! I have none to tell you!" Dear Friend :-I am asked in thy note of this morning to give some account of my life.
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