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Updated: May 20, 2025
"George is to open this meeting, by reciting some lines written by Mrs. Howitt, which are very clever, and will most appropriately introduce our subject." So saying, Mrs. Wilton proceeded to arrange the members in their various places; and, seating herself, she turned to her son, who by virtue of his office was allowed to remain near Grandy's chair until the great work was accomplished.
One of them knelt and gathered up the fragments of the glass on a tray. He did his work as quietly as he could; but for all that it made too much noise. "Let that alone until by and by," said the host, softly. Leaning against the chimney-piece, Charles looked at the dead man. He slowly tore the folded paper to pieces, while he thought of his friend. The Translation by Mary Howitt.
She became an intimate friend of Mr. and Mrs. Howitt, and died at their summer home in the Austrian Tyrol. Among her works are busts of Theodore Parker, Charles Sumner, and others; medallions of William and Mary Howitt, Longfellow, and Bryant; and several ideal statues and bas-reliefs.
Then from down at the spring a young girl's laugh rose clearly, and the big mountaineer said in a low tone, "Mr. Howitt, you've got education; it's easy to see that; I've always wanted to ask somebody like you, do you believe in hants? Do you reckon folks ever come back once they're dead and gone?"
My mind is filled with images of the romantic German scenery, whose real beauty is beginning to displace the imaginary picture which I had painted with the enthusiastic words of Howitt.
There is a series of beautiful little pictures in the words, "underneath the pine's tall spire cardinal blossoms burn like fire"; "the golden-rod flashes from the dark green sod"; "asters light the fading year"; "gentians fringed ...glimmer out of sleety dew." By Mary Howitt There were, in very ancient times, two brothers, one of whom was rich, and the other poor.
Mr. Howitt writes: Now, the traces of 'headmanship' among the tribes are extremely faint; no such headman rules large areas of country, none is known to be worshipped after death, and the malevolence of the Supreme Spirit is not illustrated by the details of Mr. Howitt's own statement, but the reverse.
Perhaps Ben, being in the midst of stories and books, and hearing so much talk about the great men of the day, roused the same train of thought in her, though I think hero-worship came natural to her. The Dean girls read the sweet pretty domestic stories with great relish. Miss Macintosh, Mary Howitt, and even Jane Austin were their delight. Hanny and Daisy were deeply interested in history.
He had won the friendship of John Bright, had broken bread with Sir John Bowring, had been introduced to Lord Brougham, the brilliant leader of the Liberal party, and had listened to his wonderful eloquence. He had met Douglas Jerrold, the famous wit, and had been entertained by the poet William Howitt, who made a farewell speech in his honor.
"She just kept a gettin' worse and worse, Mr. Howitt; 'peared to fade away like, like I watched them big glade lilies do when the hot weather comes. About the only time she would show any life at all was when someone would go for the mail, when she'd always be at the gate a waitin' for us. "Then one day, a letter come. I brung it myself.
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