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Updated: June 9, 2025
Of the domestic and inside life of the middle of Long Island, at and just before that time, here are two samples: "The Whitmans, at the beginning of the present century, lived in a long story-and-a-half farm-house, hugely timber'd, which is still standing. A great smoke-canopied kitchen, with vast hearth and chimney, form'd one end of the house.
Am now in my 72d year. It must have been in 1822 or '3 that I first came to live in Brooklyn. Presently we Whitmans all moved up to Tillary street, near Adams, where my father, who was a carpenter, built a house for himself and us all. It was from here I "assisted" the personal coming of Lafayette in 1824-'5 to Brooklyn.
After supper that night Sidney Meeks called at the Whitmans'. He did not stay long. He had brought a bottle of elder-flower wine for Sylvia. As he left he looked at Henry, who followed him out of the house into the street. They paused just outside the gate. "Well?" said Henry, interrogatively. "All right," responded Meeks. "What it is all about beats me.
Old Herbert, moving out of the shadow noiselessly and pleasantly, bowed them out, and as the vision faded one of the guests, at least, pictured the four friends on the sun porch readjusting themselves, after their fitful fever, to the gentle life of their home. The following Thursday night Tom called at the Whitmans' to rehearse the lecture.
Zechariah Whitman, also came over in the "True Love," either at that time or soon after, and lived at Milford, Conn. A son of this Zechariah, named Joseph, migrated to Huntington, Long Island, and permanently settled there. It is quite certain that from that beginning, and from Joseph, the West Hill Whitmans, and all others in Suffolk county, have since radiated, myself among the number.
I didn't see any titled strangers of my acquaintance." "He was just back of the Whitmans' awning for a long time. After that, he came down to Mr. Drayton and talked to him. I didn't see him speak to anybody else, though." "Oh," Hubert said suddenly; "I know the man you mean, Allyn. There is a good deal of him, too. Sam Asquith told me he had just come to the hotel.
As he looked into the face of his wife, he comprehended in part her sufferings. Amid these and similar sad experiences, this heroic band of Christian women abated not their zeal or efforts in the work to which they had put their hand. In other parts of the territory, separate missionary establishments were superintended by the Whitmans, the Spauldings, and others.
For the Whitmans always had mourned hard. The girl on the sofa was a thoroughly healthy person of twenty-four. She played excellent female tennis, and her golf was better than that of half of the male members at the club. Yet she had none of the mannish mannerisms that so often accompany an "athletic" girl.
Their art expression is frequently strained, it sounds at times like a translation from an unknown original which, indeed, is precisely what it is. These artists Whitmans and Brownings impress us rather by the greatness of their spirit than the felicity of their art.
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