26 Rhodora [February 



might have been, had his working years fallen later in the century, 

 when he would have been in closer touch with the moulding influ- 

 ences of a wider culture, and his work influenced by the advanced 

 methods now prevalent in botanical research. 



Mr. Frost always impressed me as possessing in high degree the 

 characteristics we call puritan. Thrift, industry, perseverance, sim- 

 plicity, singleness of purpose, integrity, and great reserve, were the 

 salient features of his personality. The inspirational forces of life 

 were his, but he lacked the surroundings that tend to life's enrich- 

 ment. He had a fine face, indicating at once strength of character, 

 the clear, dark and penetrating eyes being most pleasant to meet and 

 suggesting the fine fibre of the man. In manner he was quietly 

 courteous, his words were few and to the point. 



For almost half a century Mr. Frost followed his trade in the one 

 shop, and for most of this time lived in the one house, which stood 

 near Whetstone Brook. It was a typical house of our early New 

 England villages, long, low, and painted white, the chambers enclosed 

 in the sloping roof. The site of the shop is now occupied by a 

 modern business block. The house is still standing but not upon its 

 original foundation. 



Mr. B'rost's business and studies held a strange companionship. 

 All the business hours of the day found him at the bench or counter, 

 usually the former. It was there that the visitor found him with shoe 

 upon his aproned knee, his hands busy with awl and thread, and an 

 open book by his side. His whole attention came directly to your 

 need, though you knew his mind had dropped an absorbing train of 

 thought to meet your wants. At noon the shop was closed for an 

 hour, fully half this time being spent in the attic room, where his 

 botanical work was done. It is easy to imagine the almost irresis- 

 tible impulse to extend this short half hour, the reluctance with which 

 researches were broken otf just at a point of critical interest; yet 

 the observer could not see but that the door of his treasure house 

 — a veritable treasure house it was to him — was closed as readily 

 as the door of his shop. Rare occasions there were when the shop 

 remained closed one, two, or even three days at a time. For when 

 some friend came, some one with kindred interests, business was laid 

 entirely aside and even his household saw him only at meals. Our 

 imagination need not be great or intuition especially sympathetic to 

 tell us that these days must have been oases in life's journey. But 



