hmetical problems he has solved
and German stories he has pilfered from his reader. Still, I am very
proud of those children; at any rate, I want to go first. Give my
love to Hawkins and his wife and to Buskett; Julia joins me in
affectionate remembrances to you all. God bless you, my beloved
friend.

EUGENE FIELD.

There was no shadow in this letter of the sorrow which was then
hovering over his home and family. Out of a cheerful heart he wrote,
"I am feeling quite well now," although the mists and fogs of London
were chilling him to the marrow, while the social attentions were
tempting him to dietetic destruction. A few months after he wrote the
words, "The children are well" and "At any rate, I want to go first,"
he was returning to America with the body of his eldest son, who died
suddenly in Holland, and facing bravely the fact that his own vitality
had been fatally impaired. "What exceeding folly," he wrote to a
friend, "was it that tempted me to cross the sea in search of what I
do not seem able to find here--a righteous stomach? I have been
wallowing in the slough of despond for a week and my digestive
apparatus has gone wrong again. I have suffered tortures that would
have done credit to the inventive genius of a Dante, and the natural
consequence is that I am as blue as a whetstone."

The death of his son made a deep impression on Eugene Field. Melvin
was the serious, unobtrusive member of the family circle. As Field has
just intimated, Pinny was a shrewd and mischievous youngster, who
attracted more attention and was permitted more license than his
brothers. Daisy was his mother's special pet, and Trotty had many of
the characteristics of her father. Besides, she was the only girl in
the family of boys. Thus Melvin in temperament and disposition seemed
always just outside the inner circle of the household. This came home
to Field, and he regretted it deeply before he wrote the concluding
lines of his dedication of "With Trumpet and Drum":

_So come; though I see not his dear little face,
And hear not his voice in this jubilant place,
I know he were happy to bid me enshrine
His memory deep in my heart with your play.

Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine
Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day!
And my heart it is lonely--so, little folk, come,
March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!_

Upon his return, Field secured for his family a large and comfortab