In short, Longfellow belonged to quite an aristocratic family, as New England aristocracy goes, and it was a fairly wealthy family also. His father was once a member of Congress, and afterward was chosen to make the speech welcoming Lafayette when he visited Portland in 1825. The house where Longfellow was born is still standing and is well known to the children of Portland. In the old days it was in the fashionable part of the town, facing the ocean beach. But now land has been filled in for a long distance out into the ocean, and on this new land stand the engine-house and tracks of the Grand Trunk railway. So the house is now in a very poor neighborhood. One day a teacher in a Portland school asked her pupils if they knew where Longfellow was born. “I know,” said a little girl. “In Patsey Connor’s bedroom.” Many poor people lived in the house, and the room where Longfellow was born was now Patsey Connor’s bedroom; but all the children of Portland knew where it was. CHAPTER III LONGFELLOW’S BOYHOOD Our poet seems to have been a quiet, well behaved child, rather slight, but always standing up perfectly straight. He was careful of his clothes, and learned his lessons well. Some people seem to think that a very good little boy will never grow up to be worth anything. Certainly it is a good thing to have plenty of spirit and energy; but Longfellow is an example of a boy who was as good as George Washington is said to have been, and he grew up to be the greatest poet in America, just as Washington grew up to be the greatest president. When he was three years old little Henry was sent to school. For a many years a certain Ma’am Fellows had kept a school in a little brick schoolhouse not far from the Wadsworth mansion, and it was she who taught the poet his first lessons. Ma’am Fellows was a firm believer in the doctrine that “one should never smile in school hours.” Years afterward Longfellow told what he remembered of her. “My recollections of my first teacher,” said the poet, “are not vivid: but I recall that she was bent on giving me a right start in life; that she thought that even very young children should be made to know the difference between right and wrong; and that severity of manner was more practical than gentleness of persuasion. She inspired me with one trait,—that is, a genuine respect for my elders.” He afterward went to several other schools, including one in Love Lane. When he grew a little older he had to write compositions, and there is a story about the first one he ever wrote. His teacher told him to write a composition; but he thought he couldn’t do it. “But you can write words, can you not?” asked the teacher. “Yes,” was the response. “Then you can put words together?” “Yes, sir.”