His death had been little
heeded; but in him had passed away an intangible genuine bit of Old
Boston--as genuine a bit, in its kind, as the Autocrat himself--a
personality not to be restored or replaced. Tom Folio could never happen
again!
Strolling to-day through the streets of the older section of the town,
I miss many a venerable landmark submerged in the rising tide of change,
but I miss nothing quite so much as I do the sight of Tom Folio entering
the doorway of the Old Corner Bookstore, or carefully taking down
a musty volume from its shelf at some melancholy old book-stall on
Cornhill.
FLEABODY AND OTHER QUEER NAMES
WHEN an English novelist does us the honor to introduce any of our
countrymen into his fiction, he generally displays a commendable
desire to present something typical in the way of names for his
adopted characters--to give a dash of local color, as it were, with his
nomenclature. His success is seldom commensurate to the desire. He falls
into the error of appealing to his invention, instead of consulting
some city directory, in which he would find more material than he could
exhaust in ten centuries.
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