The Dreamer: A Romantic Rendering of the Life-Story of Edgar Allan PoeStanard, Mary Newton
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The Dreamer: A Romantic Rendering of the Life-Story of Edgar Allan Poe
Stanard, Mary Newton
Poe, Edgar Allan, 1809-1849
His mind was, indeed, too much engrossed with the charming creations of
his brain to leave him time for brooding upon such sordid matters as the
keeping of accounts, or the making of two ends meet. The amount of his
indebtedness was now, however, sufficient to give him a shock which
thoroughly aroused him, and he was genuinely distressed; for he had no
wish to ruthlessly pain his foster-father. The haunting better self not
only arose and confronted him, but remained with him, keeping close step
with him and upbraiding him and condemning him in the whisper audible to
his quick imagination and so terrifying.
Still, the thought that Mr. Allan had plenty of money, and that no
severe sacrifice would be needful for the payment of his debts relieved
his penitence of much of its poignancy. That Mr. Allan would settle
these "debts of honor," as he called them, as the fathers and guardians
of boys as reckless as himself had done, he had not the slightest doubt.
But, as will be seen, he reckoned without Mr. Allan.
He wrote Mrs. Allan a dutiful letter, confessing all and expressing his
sorrow, and begging to be permitted to repay Mr. Allan for settling his
affairs at the University with work as a clerk in the counting house.
The letter filled the tender heart of the foster-mother with yearning.
The sum frightened her, though she, like the boy, comforted herself with
the thought that her husband could pay it without embarrassment. Still,
she trembled to think of his wrath. Her chief feeling was one of
sympathy for her erring, penitent boy. How natural it was for one of his
age to be led away by evil associates! All boys--she supposed--must sow
some wild oats, though few, she was confident, showed such a beautifully
penitent spirit, and it would be a small matter in future years when he
should have become the great and good man she knew he was going to be.
How noble it was of him to offer to give up or postpone the completion
of the education so dear to his heart and tie himself to a desk in that
tiresome counting-house in order to pay his debts--he that was born to
shine as a poet. She exulted that he had offered to make such a
sacrifice, but he should never make it, never while _she_ had breath in
her body to protest!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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