not at all console myself for its loss with the book I have written
myself。
At Lowell's table that day they spoke of what sort of winter I should
find in Venice； and he inclined to the belief that I should want a fire
there。 On his study hearth a very brisk one burned when we went back to
it； and kept out the chill of a cold easterly storm。 We looked through
one of the windows at the rain； and he said he could remember standing
and looking out of that window at such a storm when he was a child； for
he was born in that house； and his life had kept coming back to it。 He
died in it； at last。
In a lifting of the rain he walked with me down to the village； as he
always called the denser part of the town about Harvard Square； and saw
me aboard a horse…car for Boston。 Before we parted he gave me two
charges： to open my mouth when I began to speak Italian； and to think
well of women。 He said that our race spoke its own tongue with its teeth
shut； and so failed to master the languages that wanted freer utterance。
As to women； he said there were unworthy ones； but a good woman was the
best thing in the world； and a man was always the better for honoring
women。
End