VIII 



"THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET" 



Its Home in an Unspoiled Corner of 

 Pilgrim Land 



It is not often that the scenes of a man's 

 childhood remain measurably intact when that 

 childhood occurred something over a century 

 ago. Yet that is the case with Samuel Wood- 

 worth, whose detached name I fancy not one 

 man in a thousand would recall, even among well- 

 read people. Yet you have but to mention " The 

 Old Oaken Bucket " and you get an answering 

 smile of recognition from the veriest ignoramus. 

 Even if he cannot recall the words he can whistle 

 the tune. 



People given to moralizing are apt to take 

 instances like this for a topic and wind up with 

 the familiar aphorism, " Such is fame ! " And 

 such it seems to be, rightfully enough I dare say. 

 Here was a man of journalistic training and 



