Class. 
 
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 (x)pyrightN^_____i3J4 
 
 COP»UGHT DEPOSm 
 
LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
LETTERS 
 OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Edited by 
 CAROLINE P. ATKINSON 
 
 Introduction by 
 EDWARD E. HALE 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 MARSHALL JONES COMPANY 
 
 MDCCCCXIX 
 

 ^' 
 
 COPYRIGHT, I918, 
 BY MARSHALL JONES COMPANY 
 
 yf// rights reseri'ed 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 hy The Univeriitji Press, Cambridge, Mass. 
 
 DEC IB 1318 
 ©Ci.A508608 
 
 ^^..v \ 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THOSE of us, of a younger generation, who were 
 privileged to know Susan Hale intimately, have 
 felt eager to have her letters published, in order that 
 a larger number of persons might share with us the 
 delight of her wit and vivacity, and her never-ceasing 
 good spirits. 
 
 She was the best of company, and we who sat on 
 her piazza at Matunuck, listening to her brilliant 
 conversation on men, books and travel, or to her 
 inimitable stories ; and others who had the good for- 
 tune to travel with her, all bear witness to never 
 having spent a dull hour in her company. 
 
 It was a liberal education to be with her, for she 
 always inspired the young people about her to care 
 for the best things. 
 
 She read a great deal, and in addition to a fine 
 library of old books, she kept up with the best new 
 ones, and her tables were always liberally strewn 
 with current literature in English, French, Italian 
 and German — all of which she read in the original, 
 being a fine linguist, and discussed in a most dis- 
 cerning and appreciative way. 
 
 She loved the great outdoors, and used to put on 
 a short skirt, arrange her hair in a " pig-tail," don 
 a tam-o'-shanter, and lead the young people off over 
 hills, through woods, and along the shores of the 
 ponds, stopping to pick wild flowers by the way, and 
 often bringing a specimen home to dissect and analyze 
 with the help of " Gray's Botany." On brilliant 
 star-light nights she taught us about the planets and 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 constellations. One could not be with her and not 
 catch her enthusiasm or cultivate a taste in things 
 worth while. 
 
 She was physically very strong, and the striking 
 thing in her later years, when she had to meet illness, 
 a surgical operation and deafness, which increased 
 rapidly, was her great courage, her capacity to hold 
 her head high and take whatever came to her with 
 cheerful resignation ; her sense of humour and her 
 pluck carrying her through very trying times. Even 
 in the few months between the paralytic stroke, 
 which came to her in May, and her death in Sep- 
 tember, 1910, was this particularly noticeable. 
 
 She was a prolific letter'-writer, and her letters 
 were so entertaining that they were seldom destroyed. 
 So, out of an abundance of material, I have selected 
 these that make this vohune, with many regrets at 
 having to leave out a large number that would have 
 been of interest. It has been a delightful task, and 
 if the result gives to the reader a small part of the 
 enjoyment I have had in preparing the book, I shall 
 be well satisfied. 
 
 Carolhste p. Atkinson. 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 September, 1918. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 ONE can rarely give in a feAv words any true 
 impression of a long life. Susan Hale was al- 
 most seventy-seven when she died, and most of those 
 now living remember her as she was in the latter 
 half of her life, — the mistress of Matunuck in the 
 summer, the unwearied traveller in the winter. But 
 before she had settled into the life most characteris- 
 tic of her later years, she was a very different as well 
 as a very individual and brilliant personality. As 
 a girl in the family circle at Brookline, and later as 
 a woman in the Boston society of the seventies, she 
 was a very distinct character. The following lines 
 can give only a little concerning her life in those and 
 later years which will enable people to read with 
 some comprehension the letters now published. 
 
 Yet certain things were permanent ^vith her. As 
 she grew older, her most striking characteristic was 
 probably a very great sympathy, which enabled her to 
 make many intimate friends. Particularly was this 
 the case with young people, who used to feel about 
 her much as though she were one of themselves, called 
 her Susan, and talked to her on their o^Aai current 
 interests without often realising that she really be- 
 longed to an earlier generation. In that generation, 
 however, her chief quality had been something quite 
 different, chiefly a certain gift of brilliant cleverness 
 in thought and expression which made her a note- 
 worthy person among her contemporaries. 
 
 If one called her a " woman of the world " — in 
 the broadest and best sense — one might include both 
 
viii INTRODUCTION 
 
 these phases. Susan certainly did know the world 
 pretty well, both the particular world of America, 
 Boston, Matunuck, where she was intimate, and the 
 larger world about which she so constantly travelled. 
 And a person remembering her in some such way 
 would doubtless have the general imj^ression which 
 Susan Hale made on her generation, as far as it 
 knew her. 
 
 But even with all correction, — clever girl, bril- 
 liant woman, sympathetic friend, appreciative trav- 
 eller, such a view would be only superficial. In all 
 Susan's cleverness and brilliancy there was a con- 
 stant emotional self-restraint not unusual in the sev- 
 enties and eighties ; in her invariable sympathy and 
 interest in others there was a frequent reser^^e. The 
 real Susan did not often emerge from the veil. When 
 she did one remembered it, but rarely comprehended 
 it entirely. Her conversation was apparently quite 
 genuine and sincere, and so it was actually, with the 
 reservation that though what she said she really felt 
 and thought, yet she never said all she felt and 
 thought. In this respect her letters have ratlier 
 more of her real self than even her personal talk had, 
 at least to a reader who can get at it. This is one of 
 the secrets of writing — that it is often more truly, 
 even if unconsciously, self-expressive than conver- 
 sation. 
 
 There was also a certain quaintness, not unper- 
 ceived, in the more personal part of Susan's charac- 
 ter. She was very fond of cats, as many others are, 
 but it was more individual that she should invent and 
 develop an especial " cat language " with which to 
 talk to them. She often went about singing to her- 
 self, as many people do, but it was her own specialty 
 to invent '' morning-songs " and sing them to herself 
 at breakfast. She also invented names for people 
 and places, but it is not common for such names to 
 
INTEODUCTIOX ix 
 
 be picked up and used bj everybody ■without thought. 
 These thing's and many others were individual and 
 quaint and belonged to her. It is hard to say just 
 what was the real Susan, but I think the most real 
 was Susan by herself at Matunuck in the fall after 
 the sunnner life and gaiety had vanished away, and 
 the summer splendours had passed into the soft-toned 
 and moderated autumn, and the country-side had a 
 certain '^ trist^sse," as she liked to call it. Then she 
 would swim in the pond in the early morning, break- 
 fast on the piazza, write her letters till mail time, 
 stroll about the hill with the current cat, Geronimo, or 
 some other, talk with Louisa or Mr. Franklin or Mr. 
 Bro^vlling, sit in the south window or on the piazza 
 and darn stockings over a sort of small gourd, or else 
 read the Sun, make a fire in the evening and read 
 a novel out of which she had torn the illustrations, 
 and go to bed at about eight, humming the most suc- 
 cessful morning-song of the week. Nor was all this 
 a matter merely of the moment or of the outside. It 
 involved a criticism of life, — a constant valuation 
 of what the world was and a constant expression of 
 what one was oneself. That, too, I fancy, come-s out 
 in her letters. One may not always get it — and 
 perhaps an editor should point it out more clearly — 
 but probably most readers will get at it more or less, 
 and that is all one could expect at the very best. 
 
 Susan Hale was born December 5, 1833, at 
 Hamilton Place, Boston, the youngest of the eight 
 children of Nathan Hale and Sarah Preston Everett. 
 Of these the four oldest, Sarah, Lucretia, Nathan 
 and Edward, constituted rather a compact group 
 ("we four") as the oldest children now almost 
 grown up. They with their friends made an interest- 
 ' ing and brilliant gi*oup that Susan w as somewhat too 
 young to join. She belonged to the younger four; 
 but her sister Jane died early and Sarah some years 
 
X I^^TRODUCTION 
 
 afterward, so that as she greAV up Susan "was natu- 
 rally thro^^^l largely with her older sister, Lucretia. 
 Not much can be said here of those earlier years ; she 
 soon began to learn to draw and to paint, and as the 
 material fortunes of the family somewhat failed on 
 the illness of her father, she soon began to teach 
 school. The family lived in Boston ; her father and 
 her brothers l^athan and Charles successively were 
 editors of the Boston Daily Advertiser. Her brother, 
 Edward, after 1856 was minister of the South Con- 
 gregational Church. About 1860 the family moved 
 to Brookline, where in 1862 her father died, and in 
 1865 her mother. 
 
 Susan was at this time thirty-two years of age, and 
 had long been the youngest member of a large and 
 able family. She was able herself, but so far she 
 had never had a really independent opportunity to 
 see what she could do if she had to, or what she would 
 do if she could. ITor did such an opportunity at 
 once arise. In 1867 the general family group being 
 practically broken up, she and Lucretia went abroad, 
 specifically to Egypt, where Charles was Consul Gen- 
 eral of the United States. 
 
 On her return from abroad it would seem that 
 Susan made up her mind that she had better carry on 
 her life herself instead of letting it be arranged for 
 her by brothers and sisters and family circumstances. 
 She therefore took rooms at 91 Boylston Street and 
 began, or rather continued, to have classes. This she 
 did for several years, but as she went on she became 
 more and more interested in painting. She had al- 
 ways had ability in this art, as had also others of the 
 family, but she had never had particular teaching. 
 She now resolved to get the best teaching in water- 
 colours that she could, and for this purpose went abroad 
 again in 1872. I cannot say just who were her mas- 
 ters ; the only two whom I recall her mentioning were 
 
INTKODUCTION xi 
 
 Copley Fielding and Henri Harpignies, but I do not 
 think she studied much with either of them. She 
 spent the winter of 1872-1873 in Paris and at 
 Weimar. 
 
 In 1873 she came back to Boston and began a very 
 characteristic and interesting period of her life. She 
 again took rooms, I am not sure where at first, but 
 soon at 64 Boylston Street, where the Art Club had 
 at that time established itself. Here she began 
 classes in water-colours, which gave her a regular 
 occupation, but she also developed other things to do, 
 sometimes of an original character. She did, in 
 time, a good many books and wrote a good many let- 
 ters of travel for the papers. She began to have 
 afternoon classes of ladies not only in Boston but else- 
 where, to whom she talked or read. The one that in- 
 terested her most was on the novelists of the eight- 
 eenth century. I cannot say when she began to read 
 to Mr. William Amory, but when I first began to fre- 
 quent her rooms in the late seventies, it was her habit 
 to go across the Conunon every afternoon to read to 
 him for a couple of hours. She also used to go in the 
 evening to read to Mr. T. G. Appleton, and these 
 regular engagements together with her morning 
 classes made for a number of years the backbone of 
 her winter occupation. I do not know just what she 
 used to read to them, but I feel pretty sure that Mr. 
 Appleton at least liked her to talk rather than to 
 read. She used often to go over to Mr. Appleton's 
 for dinner, and as one was a wit and the other a 
 humourist, it is not likely that they spent all their 
 time in reading, even so interesting a book as Gib- 
 bon's " Decline and Fall." 
 
 I do not remember when Susan first came to 
 Matunuck. During the first ten years of our family 
 life there, there was much visiting on the part of 
 Uncle Charles and Aunt Lucretia and, I have no 
 
xii INTKODUCTIOX 
 
 doubt, of Susan as well. She was never at Matu- 
 nuck, however, in those earlier years, for any long 
 period. She was much more likely to go for six or 
 eight weeks to such a place as York, Owl's Head, 
 Ogunquit, or somewhere else along the ]S[orth Shore. 
 Matunuck she never considered an interesting place 
 for painting. My sister was, about this time, study- 
 ing with Miss Knowlton, the teaching representa- 
 tive, as one may say, of William M. Hunt. She and 
 her friends liked Matunuck because of its figure- 
 elements, the ox-teams of that day gathering sea- 
 weed, the boys in broad-brimmed straw hats and 
 blue flannel shirts, which lent themselves to the gen- 
 eral Millet-Couture sentiment which they felt. But 
 Susan was not interested in this sort of thing and did 
 not often paint at Matunuck. She liked the Maine 
 coast better and wanted generality to spend a good 
 deal of time wherever she was going to paint. She 
 used to say that there was no use trying to paint till 
 you had been in a place for a fortnight or so, getting 
 to know it. So her first days in a place she used to 
 spend walking about and after that she would paint 
 pretty regularly. In the fall she would bring back 
 a number of water-colours, and have an exhibition 
 at the Art Club, and then begin teaching for the 
 winter. 
 
 In 1883, however, she came to Matunuck in a new 
 capacity, namely, that of housekeeper. My father 
 and mother had that year been called to Paris by the 
 illness of my sister and remained abroad all summer. 
 Susan came out to 39 Highland Street to take care of 
 the family — at this time consisting of the four 
 younger boys. With them she went to Matunuck to 
 open the house and ran the establishment until my 
 father and mother came home. It was, perhaps, 
 first this summer that she really became charmed 
 with the place. At any rate, two years after- 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 ward an arrangement was made by which she as- 
 sumed charge of the house at Matunuck for the 
 summer. It had been built in 1873 for my father 
 by William B. Weeden, whose place at Willow Dell 
 was just across the road. In the first ten years my 
 father and mother and the rest of us came down 
 regularly and spent the Avhole sununer there. But 
 the housekeeping of those days was rather difiicult, so 
 that my mother always got pretty well tired out, and 
 really disliked leaving her large, comfortable, and 
 generally cool house in Roxbury, to go to Matunuck, 
 which was beautiful, but not so attractive for those 
 who did not care for bathing and boating and wood- 
 walking, as for those who did. However it was, by 
 the summer of 1885 it was practically settled that 
 Susan was to be the mistress at Matunuck, and she 
 rather rearranged her life on this basis. Instead of 
 spending the winter at work in Boston and the sum- 
 mer travelling about, she began to spend the summer 
 at Matunuck while she travelled in the winter. She 
 got in the habit of coming down earlier in the spring 
 and staying longer in the fall. When she got into the 
 habit of travelling in the winter, she began to give 
 up the idea of having a home in Boston. She had 
 for a long time lived in the Art Club building. 
 When the Club rearranged the house, she moved to 
 other apartments in Boylston Street. But after she 
 had been at Matunuck a few summers, she regularly 
 moved her things doAvn there, and after that she only 
 stayed in Boston for a longer or shorter time between 
 Matunuck and some winter trip, or in the spring 
 before going to Matunuck for the summer. 
 
 Travelling was one of the things she liked best. 
 She was very fond of her particular home at any 
 given time, but she also liked to travel. Her first 
 real journey was to Egypt; a few years afterward 
 she spent a year or so abroad. In 1885 and 1886 she 
 
xiv introductio:n' 
 
 went to Mexico with F. E. Church and his family, 
 who were among her best friends. The next year 
 she went to Spain with Mr. John Johnston and his 
 sister; in 1891 she made a European trip with Miss 
 Susan Day; in 1892 and again in 1893 she went to 
 California; in 1894 to Europe with Mrs. Church; 
 in 1896 to Algiers by herself, though later she joined 
 Mrs. William Weld in Sicily. In 1899 she went to 
 California with Mrs. Weld, and again, in 1901, with 
 her to Mexico. In 1902 she went to Europe with 
 Miss Ethel Damon. In 1903, 1904, 1905 she spent 
 the winter in Jamaica. In 1905 she was in Egypt; 
 in 1906 in Jamaica again ; in 1907 in Cannes. The 
 winters of 1908 and 1909 she spent in Washington 
 and Pass Christian, and the last winter of her life, 
 1910, in Cannes. But every summer she was at 
 Matunuck. 
 
 Susan at Matunuck is to those who knew her there 
 her most characteristic phase. She loved the place 
 and its people, and was never so much at home as 
 when there. At first she plunged actively into the 
 outdoor life ; she was a capital swimmer and always 
 wanted a swim in the pond before breakfast, and 
 generally a sea-bath, too, while she also loved to 
 traverse the wood-paths, which in those days led in 
 all directions among the ponds. She liked to take 
 a canoe with one of the boys, and to carry across 
 from pond to pond until they had made a circuit 
 of the hill-country. As she grew older she- cared less 
 for this active outdoor life, but devised another more 
 suited to the energies of a woman of fifty or sixty. 
 She would breakfast on the piazza when she was 
 alone ; it was not too far from the road to hear some- 
 one driving by explain to a friend, " I^o, she ain't 
 crazy, but she eats outdoors." After breakfast she 
 went about the house or retired to her "rat's-nest" 
 and -wrote letters till the mail-man came. Then it 
 
INTRODUCTION^ xv 
 
 was time to drive to the beach, which generally took 
 up the rest of the morning. In the afternoon she 
 took to the east piazza about four o'clock, where in 
 time the neighbourhood accustomed itself to come for 
 afternoon tea. She often went off for a stroll in the 
 late afternoon, and after supper finished the day by 
 a short time on the front piazza, where, on clear 
 nights, one had a wonderful stretch of sea and light- 
 house and horizon. She went to bed very early in the 
 summer, — at eight or half -past. If there were 
 people about she would go away as though to attend 
 to something and not come back. 
 
 She early formed intimate relations with the people 
 around, particularly with those who " did for " her, 
 as the phrase is. Mrs. Perry was the first of these, but 
 when she moved away up the Perry\'ille road she could 
 not continue " doing. '' Susan then took up with Louisa 
 Sebastian, a big coloured woman with something of 
 a following, and for many years Louisa was her cook, 
 and as far as she had any, her manager. Mr. Frank- 
 lin and George Jones, both coloured, used to be 
 around a good deal cutting wood and doing odd jobs. 
 She got horses of Robert Browning, to whom she 
 was much attracted by his singular strain of almost 
 saturnine humour. She encouraged all the country 
 to come round in carts and bring her food ; she al- 
 Avays got something and always had conversations 
 with them. The chief of these visitors were Mrs. 
 Tucker and Peth Bradley. 
 
 My father always came to Matunuck as much as 
 he could in the summer, though toward the end of 
 his life he used sometimes to go elsewhere. My 
 mother, however, did not come so much. Susan, 
 therefore, had a good deal of room, for the house was 
 large, and she got into the habit of having a good 
 many visitors, generally young people, — her own 
 friends and her nephews'. In this way grew up at 
 
xvi IJ^TEODUCTION 
 
 Matunuck in tlie late eighties and the nineties a 
 group of joimg people with all of whom Susan was 
 intimate. She was commonly called Susan by them, 
 and, indeed, by almost everyone else. 
 
 Although extremely original and natural in what 
 she said and did, Susan, like most other people, was 
 not able to express herself fully in the current forms 
 to which we are all used. She painted a good deal, 
 and for a number of years was immensely interested 
 in her landscapes, yet no one who knew her could 
 fancy that her landscapes gave much real idea of her 
 gay vitality and her shrewd quaintness. She wrote 
 a good deal in various ways, — sometimes travel- 
 letters to the papers, sometimes books, — but though 
 there was a good deal of herself in these, they never 
 impressed people as she did herself. Possibly she 
 could have arrived at a truer self-expression by being 
 an actress than in any other way. She was always 
 wonderful in extempore theatricals or in the mono- 
 logues which she arranged for herself like " The 
 Elixir of Youth " or " The Female Fool." But even 
 had it proved that she could best express her mer- 
 curial personality on the stage, it is doubtful whether 
 she could have done so by the usual and natural 
 course of presenting or creating the characters con- 
 ceived by others. She would have been a great figure 
 in the popular extempore stage of the Italians. 
 
 In the way of letters, however, she did find a means 
 of expression. She was educated at a time when 
 long letters were more common than they are to-day. 
 All the family wrote letters, and according to the 
 custom of the time they were pretty long ones. In 
 the days before envelopes and stamps it was the cus- 
 tom to use double sheets of quarto size, and if one 
 used such a sheet and paid five or ten cents for post- 
 age, it was natural to write enough to fill the sheet. 
 So she early got used to writing letters and soon 
 
INTEODUCTION xvii 
 
 adopted letter-writing as an easy and natural mode 
 of expression. Her letters were very like her con- 
 versation; they were free and familiar, full of her 
 usual ways of thought and expression, giving her 
 characteristic ideas and point of view. They had not 
 so much of her surprising extempore humour as her 
 talk, but they came nearer being a full self-expression 
 than anything else. 
 
 Edward E. Hale. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. Early life in Boston and Brookline (1848- 
 
 1867) 1 
 
 II, Trip to Egypt and the Holy Land with 
 Miss Lucretia P. Hale to visit their 
 brother, Charles Hale, Consul General 
 in Egypt (1867-1868) 23 
 
 III. Teaching school in Boston (1871-1872) . 61 
 
 IV. Studying art in Europe — Accompanied 
 
 by the Misses Bursley and Miss Harriet 
 James, afterwards Mrs. John C. Ban- 
 croft (1872-1873) 82 
 
 V. A summer in Europe with Rev. Edward E. 
 Hale, his daughter, Miss Ellen Day Hale, 
 and Miss Margaret Marquand, 1882 — 
 Visit to Frederick E. Church, the 
 painter, at his home on the Hudson 
 River, in 1884 — Trip to Mexico with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Church in 1885 — Sum- 
 mer at Matunuck, 1885 — Mexico again 
 in 1886, with Mr. and Mrs. Church, 
 their daughter, and Charles Dudley War- 
 ner 128 
 
 VI. Summer at Matunuck, 1886 — Winter in 
 Paris with her nephew, Philip L. Hale 
 — Spring in Spain, 1887 — Matunuck, 
 1887 — Matunuck again, 1888 .... 167 
 
 VII. Readings in Chicago, Washington, and New 
 York — Trip on yacht " Gitana " with 
 Mr. and Mrs. William F. Weld — Sum- 
 mer at Matunuck — Another winter of 
 lectures and readings, 1890 (1888-1890) 200 
 
XX CONTEK^TS 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 VIII. Summer at Matunuck, 1890 — " The Elixir 
 of Youth" at Olana — Trip to Europe 
 with Miss Susan Day, 1891 — Winter in 
 California giving readings, 1892 — Mat- 
 unuck, 1892 — Out West again .... 242 
 
 IX. Matunuck, New York, the West, Europe 
 
 (1893-1897) 281 
 
 X. Boston, New York, California, Madeira, 
 
 Matunuck (1898-1902) 327 
 
 XI. Jamaica, Matunuck, Egypt (1902-1905) . 372 
 
 XII. Last years (1906-1910) 408 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Susan Hale and Edward Everett Hale Frontispiece 
 
 opp. page 
 
 Susan Hale, about 1865 232 
 
 Susan Hale at Matunuck, 1908 440 
 
LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
LETTERS OF SUSAN 
 HALE 
 
 CHAPTEE I 
 
 EARLY LIFE IN BOSTON AND BROOKLINE 
 
 (1848-1867) 
 To Alexander Hale 
 
 [Boston], November 1, 18Ji,8. 
 
 DEAR ELLY, — You will be perhaps surprised to 
 hear that I began this afternoon to take drawing les- 
 sons in a second-story front room in at Baclii's! of 
 Mr. Fette (or Phetti) ! It is quite a remarkable 
 tale and runs as follows: 
 
 Once upon a time, some three weeks ago, I was 
 sitting at the window of the parlour, when happening 
 to look up, I descried in the aforesaid second-story 
 front room of Bachi's, Anne and Ellen Frothingham, 
 and Mary Ann Wales, diligently engaged with cray- 
 ons, drawing-books, etc. Imagine my surprise ! We 
 opened our respective windows and by means of 
 shrieking across, I discovered that they were taking 
 drawing-lessons of Mr. Fette, with a Mr^s. Ball, in 
 whose room (Mrs. Ball's) the lessons were given. 
 Also especially, they asked would not I join them, 
 they wanted another. So after a great deal of nego- 
 tiation the affair was decided, and I began this 
 afternoon to go. The lessons were Wednesday and 
 Saturday afternoons from three-fifteen to four-fif- 
 
2 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 teen. I began to draw a head, the same one, if jou 
 remember, tliat Liddy Everett drew, under the in- 
 struction of Mr. F. I sketched it in charcoal, a thing 
 which I never did before. Mr. Fette remarked, " I 
 hope, Miss Hale, that you will like drawing in char- 
 coal better than your hrother Alexander did! " This 
 was the first mention of you between us. I suppose 
 he discovered the relationship by the name — per- 
 haps by the resemblance. 
 
 Last Monday evening the grand Taylor torch- 
 light procession took place. We had an invitation 
 to Mrs. Frothinghani's, next to Uncle Edward's ^ old 
 house in Summer Street. It was a nice place to see 
 as there is a large balcony in front of the house and 
 the procession passed directly by it. Charlotte with 
 Marianne and Lucy Everett (who is staying at Cam- 
 bridge) came in and T'd with us, and we set forth 
 together, some in a carriage and some on foot, to the 
 Frothinghani's. The carriages arrived first, and 
 when the walking party (of which I was a member) 
 got to the door, the door-bell was broken. Fullum ^ 
 went round to the back door to effect an entrance, but 
 while he was gone, Tom Frothingham, returning 
 from his evening airing, with a pass-key let us in. 
 After waiting some time in the parlours, where were 
 Pa F., Ma F., Edward, Tom F., Anne and Ellen F., 
 Charlotte, Marianne, Lucy and Eddy Everett, Mari- 
 anne Wales, a Miss Emmons, Harriet Davis, Sarah, 
 Lucretia, and I, the procession was heard and we 
 rushed to the piazza. It was a splendid procession, 
 to which the Free-Soil Torch-light of last Wednesday 
 was a miserable small '^sizzle." Ours took half an 
 hour to pass, with torches four, sometimes six, 
 abreast, whereas the Free-Soil took ten minutes, " at 
 
 ' Edward Everett. 
 
 ^ An oM servant who lived for many years with the Hale 
 family. 
 
LIFE m BOSTON AND BROOKLINE 3 
 
 the longest, count slowly (while ours ran)," torches 
 two, sometimes none, abreast. Ours had a great many 
 of those Bengal lights, which the processioners hold 
 in their hands and which send forth brilliant stars, 
 one by one ascending to a great height. A house a 
 few doors below the F.'s sent off rockets constantly, 
 and a house opposite was brilliantly illuminated. We 
 descried Little Alexander, very energetic as a mar- 
 shal, in the Cambridge department, which was large 
 and brilliant. There were innumerable transparen- 
 cies with devices like this, which was 
 called, ^' The old fox with a new tail " 
 and was named Martin Van Buren, 
 and majestic looking men with very 
 long noses, called Zachary Taylor. The Taylor Light 
 Guards had little U. S. A. flags, stars and stripes at- 
 tached to their torch-sticks, and occasionally sang 
 together Whig songs. 
 
 (I here stop to turn the cat, who is roasting be- 
 fore the fire, and who though she has not quite sense 
 enough to move when she gets too hot, is yet able to 
 '' mullagatorny " for me to come and turn her.) 
 
 Mr. Winthrop's house as well as many others was 
 brilliantly illuminated the torch-light night. Among 
 others, Mrs. Judge Story, of all other people, illumi- 
 nated from the garret to cellar ! She is very enthu- 
 siastic about the election, and furious against Charles 
 Sumner for being Free-Soil. But not another word 
 of politics in this letter! Good-bye from 
 
 Your affectionate third sister, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Alexandee Hale 
 
 September 2, 1849. 
 
 DEAR ELLY, — It is decided that I go to school this 
 winter, and the fatal note has been written to Mr. 
 
4 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Emerson, to see if he will take me. After my long 
 absence from the seminary, I am not violently eager 
 to return, but the cries of neglected education are 
 loud, so go I must. In the course of a month or two, 
 I shall be competent to open a correspondence with 
 you on the history of the ancient Gauls or some such 
 ancient fogies, in any language you please, either 
 ancient or modern Greek, Latin, Italian, German, 
 Spanish, Hebrew or French. . . . Good-bye from 
 your sister 
 
 Sue. 
 
 To Alexandee Hale 
 
 Sunday evening, October H, 18^9. 
 DEAR eixy, — I am now fairly launched on the sea 
 of education, or school. I go daily from nine tiU two. 
 You may be interested in knowing my course of 
 study. In the first place, I write an abstract every 
 Sunday of the sermon of Sunday morning. This is 
 for Monday morning's lesson. At school I learn a 
 lesson from " Viri Eomae " and recite in Colbum's 
 " Mental Arithmetic." I don't study the lessons in 
 this latter branch, but we are supposed to know it by 
 intuition, and every day are plied with it by Mr. 
 Emerson. We get up and down in this class. I vary, 
 being sometimes within three of the head, occasion- 
 ally, though rarely, equally near the foot, of the class. 
 We learn an evening lesson in zoology for every day 
 but Monday and Saturday. The book is Agassiz and 
 Gould's " Zoology " and treats of diverse subjects re- 
 ferring to the animal kingdom — such as the verte- 
 brate animals, moUusks, mammals, etc., and if you 
 were here I could logically expound to you that man, 
 as well as many other vertebrate animals, is possessed 
 of a carpus and a metacarpus, also a tarsus and a 
 
LIFE liS^ BOSTOX AND BROOKLINE 5 
 
 metatarsus. This highly instructive and interesting 
 work is replete with pictures of this nature (a) also 
 ones like this (b). 
 
 I study " Viri Ro- >(3V 
 mae " every day but V^tfp^ 
 Friday and Saturday, 
 (a) Friday is French ^^ 
 
 day, and then I study a French translation book 
 called Bonnechose's "History of France," and next 
 week I am to begin in Ollendorf's Exercises. Satur- 
 day we learn poetry, and as soon as we have recited 
 that, we are at liberty to go home, so that yesterday 
 I got home before eleven. Other days I do not get 
 home till after two sometimes. Professor Gould 
 comes several times a week to give us lectures, and 
 explain what we have gone over in zoology, and brings 
 with him in a bundle monkeys' skulls, and Polypi, 
 a marine animal. . . . 
 
 There are about seventy scholars in the school, and 
 three assistant teachers. Gam. Bradford's sister, 
 Fanny Bradford, is one of the teachers. Each as- 
 sistant has a little room of her own, and when I re- 
 cite to an assistant I am closeted with her in one of 
 said little rooms. . . . 
 
 Your affectionate sister, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 [Boston], Sunday evening, October 26, 1851. 
 
 Oh ! faithless Lucretia ! that don't come home when 
 we wish yer. (Observe the rhyme, please.) We 
 haven't so far disowned you as to refuse to write. 
 Indeed, considering the many palliating circum- 
 stances, we have concluded to receive you with open 
 arms on Tuesday. . . . 
 
 Yesterday was off-Saturday, which was celebrated 
 
6 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 bj great festivities consisting of the manufacture of 
 mother's bonnet — a regular bonnet-on-ation, which 
 is the nearest allowable to a coronation in this Re- 
 publican country. How can I tell how the frame 
 was got — a love of the first water, and the silk 
 ironed out, and all the materials prepared by mother 
 the day previous, — or how constantly the scissors 
 got lost, and the pins out of the way, and the silk 
 knotted, or the frame wobbled round on my knee ? 
 All of which are preliminaries — for at about tivOj 
 after a splendid morning interrupted by no incur- 
 sions of Jewetts, Willies, Hannah Dexters, or ac- 
 counts, The Bonnet completed, burst on the ad- 
 miring crowd, consisting of Mama, rivalling in its 
 glories of frill, crape, crown, etc., the whole combined 
 attraction of " White's Grand Fall Opening of more 
 than 10,000 Paris Hats " as advertised in the lead- 
 ing journals. Mother appeared in it this morning 
 at church, at which the congregation, led by Deacon 
 Grant, rose and gave three cheers, after which the 
 new sexton opened all the windows, and ex-sexton 
 Beals immediately closed them again. We then pro- 
 ceeded with the usual services. . . . 
 
 Two tickets to Miss Hayes's farewell concert to- 
 night lie in the dish mixed with a crowd of Herr 
 Kist's, and such like, — but no Peabody boy has been 
 summoned, no Frank, no Oily, no Willie, — nor have 
 I put on my long sleeves. While Sunday night was 
 still far off, I used to think I should go, but when 
 it came to the point in hand, I somehow did n't. . . . 
 
 Your affex. sister, 
 
 Susie. 
 To Nathan Hale 
 
 Tuesday evening, November 21, 1854. 
 dear NATHAN, — I am so busy all the time now 
 that I don't often write to you; but moved by your 
 
LIFE IN BOSTON AND BROOKLINE 7 
 
 pathetic allusions in your nice letter of to-day to 
 Mama, I am going to snatch a few leisure moments 
 this evening to pick up a bead or two from the shat- 
 tered string of our correspondence. Is not this a 
 felicitous " hyperbole " for the beginning ? Tell Ed- 
 ward that — No ! on the whole you need n't tell him. 
 Perhaps it would be more satisfactory to you to know 
 how 1 am busy, and I will tell you what happens 
 through the day. Get up in the morning, which as 
 you know as well as I, is easier said than done — 
 Oh ! how bitter it is to hear the dreadful running 
 noise of " Chit " in the bath-tub, the first sound that 
 wakens me in the morning, and to know that if I 
 don't pitch out and take my bath forthwith, Lucretia 
 won't have time to take hers before the breakfast bell ! 
 We generally get at breakfast at eight o'clock, and by 
 a well-organised hard-scrabble, Luc. and I get the 
 breakfast things washed by nine o'clock. All the 
 time we are doing this the door-bell keeps ringing and 
 we hear little boys tumbling upstairs to the " School- 
 room," alas! inglorious term, by which the Upper- 
 Study is now known. When it is nine I rush up to 
 the scene of action, and generally find the pupils all 
 by the ears; Inman Barnard weeping because his 
 sister has left him, and he wants to go home; some 
 new article of furniture broken, and the sofa-cover- 
 ing torn in a new place. Order being restored we 
 proceed to ceremonies : there are eleven little victims 
 now, when they all come; and next week I am to 
 have another. The children stay until twelve, and 
 during that time " act as bad as they can," but on 
 the whole acquire considerable learning, and don't 
 worrit me much. They being fairly off, Ellen 
 Wheeler and Mary Chamberlin enter with their Hor- 
 ace lessons, French Grammar and translations, only 
 one lesson apiece every day. I am quite done with 
 them at one o'clock. Then I break loose; and cast- 
 
8 LETTEKS OF SUSAN" HALE 
 
 ing off the garb and maimer of schoolma'am, assume 
 the character of a young lady in the upper circles, by 
 putting on my flounced gown and curling my hair. 
 This leaves a little time before dinner, which is de- 
 voted to making gowns, such a love of a blue silk 
 basque as I have just turned out! You should see 
 it ! and if the Fates allowed a Thanksgiving this year, 
 you would see it. After dinner the gown-making con- 
 tinues till four, when it is necessary to go out; for 
 the afternoons are so short that you can't do your 
 shopping and visiting and walking for exercise, un- 
 less you rush out before dinner is fairly out of your 
 head. Get home from walking about six and till 
 tea-time at seven, there are miscellaneous exercises 
 such as cramming a little Horace to be in advance of 
 the girls, practising duets with Mary Chamberlin, 
 or, rare treat, a dip into a novel! So sure as I am 
 seated to this last, however, the tea-bell rings. You 
 know how the evenings are principally occupied in 
 oratories, concerts and tea sprees. Anna Loring has 
 invited Luc. and myself and " the girls " to tea next 
 Thursday. Don't you think it requires heroism to in- 
 vite four females at a rush from one house to tea ? 
 " The girls " prove very pleasant. I don't think they 
 can be described as above or below the standard of 
 young-lady excellence. This is not to be considered 
 as a derogatory remark, but to be taken in its simple 
 meaning. It is usual to describe them as " remarh- 
 ably nice girls." This implies that girls as a general 
 thing are not " nice." Now according to me, all girls 
 being good enough for common purposes, so also are 
 these. Mary Chamberlin sings an excellent second, 
 and we enjoy a good many singing duets. When 
 Mary Hall spent Sunday here a week ago, we three 
 sang catches and rounds to great effect, to the per- 
 formers, that is ; I 'm afraid it was not so delightful 
 to the listeners, but then they had the alternative of 
 
LIFE IN BOSTON^ ANB BROOKLINE 9 
 
 not listening. We have got a new novel, as you have 
 seen by the Daily Advertiser, by the author of " Hen- 
 pecked Husband." It is very good indeed. The end 
 is rather hurried up ; each character turns out to have 
 been changed in his or her cradle ; and all those who 
 rolled in wealth in the first chapter come to nought 
 in the last, while on the other hand those who begged 
 their bread on page first had large chests of lucre left 
 them on the last page. Barring the peculiarities of 
 these incidents, the style is natural and pleasant, and 
 the characters very well drawn. We had a call to-day 
 from Mrs. Otis, the talented author of " The Bar- 
 clays of Boston." How she did gabble! She asked 
 to see me of mother, having heard, as she said, that 
 Miss Susan was " clever," so I was got down ; but my 
 capacities were not brought to the test, because Mrs. 
 Otis herself talked all the time, so there was no room 
 for me to get in a word edgewise; even supposing I 
 had anything to say. . . . 
 
 I am very much afraid that the cream of my letter, 
 churned into butter and spread thin over this great 
 sheet of paper, will be very dry fare ! Give lots of 
 love to Edward and Emily, and keep lots from your 
 affectionate sister. 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Charlotte Wilson at Keene 
 
 November 15, 1855. 
 
 J'ai pense, ma chere (de notre sexe la plus belle), 
 Plusieurs f ois depuis le depart de Rachel ^ 
 Que c'est devenu notre devoir de moi et de vous 
 De soutenir notre Frangais (et nos esprits de plus), 
 Par un effort brillant a un correspondance 
 Dans I'esprit de Racine, et le langage de France : 
 (Prononcez s'il vous plait, toutes ces lignes, et la suite 
 
 * Kachel, the French actress, had lately visited Boston. 
 
10 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Avec I'accent cliarniant de notre cher Hippolyte.) 
 Je commence, moi-meme, en vous priant, ma chere 
 De penser plus a mes sentiments, et moins an Gram- 
 
 maire. 
 Figurez votre amie comme une j&dele (Enone 
 Qui a vons comme sa Phedre sa coeur abandonne 
 Mais qui, a la fin, ne se trouve pas, j'espere, 
 Compellee se lancer an sein de la mer ! — 
 Dix jours ont passe que je n'ai pas regu 
 Une lettre d' Annie ; rien aussi de vous. 
 Chaque matin me trouve accablee de douleurs. 
 Chaque soir ne fait que de renouveler mes pleura. 
 Mais, j'avoue, il faut que j'elance mes courroux 
 Sur la tete de votre scEur, et non pas sur vous. 
 Et pourquoi me plaindre ? Je sais vos occupations 
 Tout entierement a present I'ouvrage de preparations 
 Vous travaillez sans c^sse, vous n'etes jamais tran- 
 quil! e 
 En arrangeant vos habits, pour aller a la ville 
 "Que ces vains omements, que oes voiles vous pesent" 
 N'est-ce-pas ? J'y pense, et mes couruoux s'appaisent. 
 Quant a moi, je retrouve enfin ma sante. 
 Mes jours s'ecoulent avec peu de variete: — 
 ISTos jeunes filles vont bien ; Marie Dinsmoor et moi, 
 ISTous jouons a " coronella " avec beaucoup de Joie. 
 Elle est vraiment charmante ; bien aimable et gaie. 
 Elle donnera un autre charme aux plaisirs de I'hiver. 
 Le soir, Lucrece, avec les filles et moi-meme 
 Jouons sou vent le " ivJiist " votre favourite gar)ie, 
 (Excusez, ma chere, cette expression anglaise 
 A ce moment, je ne puis pas en trouver la frangaise) 
 Et quoique nous n' a vons le societe comme vous 
 Du Carleton, le beau, nous nous amusons beaucoup ! 
 Ah ! comment pouvez-vous sans peine arracher 
 Ces liens si doux, ces amities si vrais, 
 Comme ceux de Carleton et Wheelock ? Charlotte ! 
 Vous trouverez a la ville des flammes plus devotes 
 
LIFE IN BOSTON AND BROOKLINE 11 
 
 Plus galants, mieux gantes ; mais pensez, ma chere, 
 Jamais, non jamais, seront-ils plus sinceres! 
 
 Eh bien ! il fait tard ; — et aussi, ma fille, 
 Ce composition frangais est bien difficile 
 Je I'avoue, et helas ! je trouve mes idees 
 Ne s'ecoulent en frangais avec rapidite. 
 Que je cesse done ! Enfin je vous dis Adieu ! 
 Helas ! que de temps f aut passer que ces yeux 
 'Ne vous verront de plus, car I'inexorable Annie 
 Est resolue de ne pas aller a N. Y. par ici — 
 Ecrivez de Keene je vous prie encore une fois 
 En frangais, en anglais, mais toujours a moi! 
 Lucrece vous envoye de baisers une douzaine ! 
 Et moi, dix cent milles ! 
 
 VOTKE AMIE SUSANNE. 
 
 To Edwaed Everett Hale 
 
 Appledoee, Sunday evening, July Jf., 1858. 
 
 DEAR EDWARD, — Your letter . . . arrived hap- 
 pily and safely yesterday. . . .' 
 
 Your remarks with regard to happiness as a means 
 rather than an end are most valuable, and, as it hap- 
 pened, most refreshing : for Margaret and I are most 
 industrious in our ruralizing. If you could but see 
 our fat Gray's " Manual," our two little " First 
 Lessons," our microscope and our dissecting knife on 
 the table, with the wrecks of analysed flowers and 
 sections of stalks, you would suppose, as the chamber- 
 maid does, that we came here for the sole purpose of 
 investigating the flora of the island. You would 
 think it was not the best place to select for this par- 
 ticular branch of science, but we find our hands full 
 with the different varieties. After every walk we 
 come in with several new specimens to be botanised, 
 and we are really getting quite skilful. To-day we 
 
12 LETTEES OF SUSAIs^ HALE 
 
 hunted down a mullein, and put him into the Scrophu- 
 laria Verbascum Thapsus-es with great ease. Also 
 certain things that we didn't know before we have 
 traced by the analysis of their parts. Then Margie 
 is devoted to painting, you know. We go out with 
 her sketching things and books, and pitch our tents 
 on a rock where she sketches and lays in her colour 
 with admirable effect and great skill. The many- 
 tinted and shadowed rocks are very difficult studies 
 for colour as well as shading, but capital practice. 
 I have drawn a good deal. It is very simple sketch- 
 ing because there are no trees ; and the cliffs on our 
 island make faultless backgrounds for vistas of dis- 
 tant mountains, lighthouse, or breakers. 
 
 It is the most delightful place and satisfies one's 
 ideal of an island. Here there can be no stealthy ap- 
 proach of Philistines, everybody must come on the 
 high-seas, be spied far off, discussed and settled be- 
 fore he arrives in the little bay and is rowed to shore, 
 just before the house. One or two small parties of 
 gentlemen are here to-day, but very quiet and peace- 
 ful. I have never passed such a tranquil Fourth. 
 Indeed I think this serene Sunday has been the quiet- 
 est day of my life; the loudest noise, the roar of the 
 breakers on the ]^. E. shore, and my only conversa- 
 tion, Margie's and my amicable chat. Is n't it nice ? 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mrs. Nathan Hale 
 
 Eye, Thursday, Augiist 28, 1862. 
 
 DEAR MAMA, — lu the first place, the money came 
 all safe, — 
 
 In the second, the photograph of Wan did, with 
 your nice letter. It 's always splendid to get letters 
 from your own self, though I 'm always afraid about 
 
LIFE m BOSTON AND BROOKLINE 13 
 
 your poor eye, lest it should get too much tired. It 
 seemed to act rather like a beast and I 'm glad I 'm 
 coming home to see after it myself. . . . 
 
 I am enchanted with the life here and could stay 
 happily another fortnight — but I want to see you 
 dreadfully, and to get settled at home quietly before 
 school begins. One thing I shall rejoice at, — my 
 own bed, — for this husk thing we sleep on is a beast ; 
 — and only the exliaustion produced by our active 
 lives could make it tolerable. But I can sleep on 
 anything, I believe. Another thing grows more 
 loathsome day by day, and that's the confusion of a 
 promiscuous table — nobody punctual — nobody ready 
 to help, — and everybody talking such fool nonsense 
 as sometimes almost to prevent digestion. But these 
 are only trifles, only to be mentioned in connection 
 with ihe thought of clean table-cloths, and regular 
 meals, — and Peg's serene (?) administration thereof. 
 
 I laughed at reading your wishes for my quiet, for 
 I was at that moment in the thick of some more 
 theatricals ! The indefatigable Bartlett had been 
 getting up some at the Hotel (whatever is got up at 
 the Hall must be rivalled by the Hotel, you see) — 
 and at very short notice I agreed to play the " Morn- 
 ing Call " with him. I studied the part Monday, 
 the plays were last night. It is a short piece of only 
 me and Bartlett. Lucretia and the rest know it I 
 guess, and I 've always wanted to play it ; and it was 
 a great success they said — your younger daughter 
 is represented to have looked very handsome. I was 
 in a great puzzle about my dress, — which should be 
 a gorgeous morning wrapper, — when lo! Miss Adam 
 (in the Bath) offered me a rich robe which Mrs. 
 Theodore Lyman gave her for theatrical purposes. 
 It fits me to a T. Sheer white muslin, most elabo- 
 rately trimmed with brilliant rose and Chine ribbon, 
 round the bottom of the skirt, and an upper skirt 
 
14 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 open in front. Little cap to match, — the whole thing 
 very becoming. Mr. Coleman and a dozen people 
 from the cottages came when they found I was to 
 act. It was very good fun — better than usual I 
 think — being so lady-like — I only long to do it 
 with Follen Cabot, — because he 'd be so much better 
 than Mr. Bartlett — although he was good. . . . 
 Love to all, from yrs., 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Waumbek, July 19 {That's Sunday), 1863. 
 
 DEAE CEEESH, — Muchly refreshed was I by your 
 letter this morning, — especially at last to hear 
 something about the Brookline draft. The papers 
 are rigorously silent thereupon. Dan Dwight ! Curi- 
 ous that family should be so heavily drawn upon. . . . 
 
 But let us leave these scenes, as I did yestermorn, 
 and, my sister, fly with me down the road to Stillins's, 
 through the woods and out on the l^ew Gorham Road, 
 take your right turn, about two miles, till you come 
 on to the Cherry Mountain Road, and so home across 
 the meadows and up the hill. About nine miles in 
 all, and took all the morning, stopping to sketch and 
 eat raspberries. For if you should wish a short de- 
 scription of the wood-road by Stillins's, I could give 
 it to you in one word — viz. : Raspberries. They are 
 just this minute ripe; the strawberries being just 
 this minute gone, but the Rasps are even more tempt- 
 ing, being less breakback to cull, and such a flavour ! 
 The sun kept coming out, and it kept raining; the 
 more it shone, the more it rained, — but by the time 
 I came home it was hot and sultry, and sunny, and 
 dried up my drabbled skirts for the second or third 
 time on the excursion. Such a wood-road, narrow 
 cart-path, grassy, and hung with raspberry bushes. 
 
LIFE m BOSTON AND BKOOKLINE 15 
 
 Israel's River rushing and tumbling alongside, brawl- 
 ing over the stones, — the gTound carpeted with Lin- 
 naea — (just done blossoming), — little Oxalis, Py- 
 rola, and all matter of moss and greenness, everything 
 dripping with recent showers, and so sweet-smelling. 
 Then when you get out on the meadows, great yellow 
 lilies nod their heads, quantities of Orchic, Rue, and 
 Lysimachia, — a lovely broad meadow, with the river 
 through it and its pretty bridge, belted with woods, 
 and crowned by Cherry Mountain. 
 
 In the afternoon, my legs aching a little, I snoozed 
 and dressed lazily, arranged my flowers in a big- 
 glass pitcher which dear Ma Plaisted provided me 
 and Margy with, and carried 'em into the parlour, 
 where they were, as usual, much admired by " our 
 little circle." After tea it was so beautiful on the 
 piazza eveiybody congregated there for a long time; 
 we wound up with Psalmody in the parlol^r. You 
 will be surprised to learn that Mrs. Thompson and 
 I are the Choir. She has a very sweet voice, and 
 plays readily. We have no books, but between us 
 have thought of all the old things you ever conceived 
 of; and draw tears (?) from the eyes of the audience 
 with " Oft in the stilly," " Ave Sanctissima," etc. 
 Mr. Frothingham (middle-aged gent, here with wife, 
 I don't know what sort) joined last night, and we 
 had some very good Brattle Street, etc. — everybody 
 being thunder-struck at last to find it was nearly 
 eleven o'clock ! . . . Love to all, 
 
 Yrs., 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Chaeles Hale 
 
 Brookline^ November 10, 1865. 
 DEAR CHARLEY, — I 've been engaged this week in 
 a pecunious heik; to wit, getting money from the 
 ladies of the Parish to get a new gown for Dr. Hedge. 
 
16 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 His was stolen out of the vestry last spring, and the 
 dear little Doctor has ever since been gownless. We 
 were roused to the occasion by the spur of Dr. Put- 
 nam's gown being stolen from Roxbury only a fort- 
 night ago, when immediately his ladies flew around 
 and have already got him a gown. So Lizzie Guild 
 and I have been agitating the matter. She finds that 
 " they come very expensive," The silk is seven dol- 
 lars a yard, and the marm that makes it asks a great 
 deal, so it will amount to one hundred and seventy- 
 five dollars. I agreed to raise twenty-five or fifty 
 dollars, and have been two trips round the big guns 
 of the parish. I found them all amenable to kind 
 treatment, and we shall have no trouble; though 
 many ladies say " they prefer Dr. Hedge without a 
 gown." JSTow that is neither here nor there, for it 
 isn't creditable to have no gown on the premises 
 whether he wears it or not. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Friday evening, April 6, 1866. 
 
 DEAR LiTCRETTA, — Kot to make this too heavy, 
 I '11 take this brief sheet of paper to say that nothing 
 at all has happened since you left, except this nice 
 little scrap from Meggie, through Mrs. Dwight, and 
 a great fat budget from Charles, with this satisfac- 
 tory note for you, which being unsealed Mama and 
 I have read. 
 
 Yesterday was lovely and hot to its close, but 
 people to-day are cursing dreadfully about it. I had 
 a splendid walk, six miles, nearly roasted. 
 
 Saw ... 1 mud-turtle 
 " ... 1 purple lizard with yellow spots 
 " ... 2,000 squirrels 
 
LIFE IN BOSTON AND BEOOKLINE lY 
 
 Saw 
 
 . . 1,100,000 birds 
 
 ee 
 
 . . 1 dead snake 
 
 Heard . 
 
 . . millions of birds 
 
 <( 
 
 . . 1 phoebe 
 
 « 
 
 . . 1 bird very rare, name imknown 
 
 « 
 
 . . 20,000,000 frogs 
 
 « 
 
 . . hylas 
 
 (I forgot t( 
 
 ) mention among 
 
 Saws 
 
 . . 1 hepatica bud, very small) 
 
 Smelt . 
 
 . . 1 doz. sk — k cabbages 
 
 u 
 
 . . No end of good things 
 
 Dr. Hedge was excellent this p.m. The audience 
 spasmodic in efforts at cheerful ease. ... A warm, 
 very warm rain, all day, no fire in the furnace, — 
 saves 37^ c. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To Charles Hale 
 
 Brookline^ Sunday, January 20, 1867. 
 
 dear CHARLEY, — This did not go by the Despatch 
 Bag, and waits the Mail, if there is any ! on account 
 of the Great Storm of 1867, which has just got itself 
 over, and the effects of which are still conspicuous 
 in front of the house in great drifts as tall as Nathan, 
 literally. . . . 
 
 But now I must tell you about the storm, which 
 was very exciting. When we woke up Thursday it 
 was snowing hard, but almost all of the children 
 came to school, and we did n't take in what was going 
 on till noon, by which time the drifts were piling up 
 on the piazzas, the windows, and roofs ; the wind 
 blowing so that in some places the ground was bare, 
 while close by, the snow sloped up suddenly several 
 feet. Sleighs came for the children who ride, and 
 those who walk w^ere getting ready when Dr. Francis 
 
18 LETTEES OF SUSAK HALE 
 
 came stamping in all covered with snow. "Don't 
 think of letting any of them walk," he said; and 
 carried off Anne Head, who lives near him, in his 
 sleigh. This left the little Atkinsons, who live up 
 opposite the Annie Atkinsons, you know, beyond the 
 Guilds. We can almost see the house, but the Doctor 
 said the drifts were very large between there and 
 here, and that long avenue all blocked up ; so they 
 staid, of course ; and soon James, the Lowells' man, 
 appeared from Chestnut Hill, for Olivia and Mamy, 
 — but so covered with snow, and his horse and sleigh 
 in such a plight, he said he 'd hardly venture to take 
 the children back, the drifts were awful and they 
 might freeze. So he went off, leaving four children 
 here, very jolly and excited at the wonderful novelty 
 of being snowed up at school. The anxious mind of 
 the housekeeper at once reverted to the larder, for 
 in a family of three to be suddenly increased to seven 
 when you can't send anywhere for anything, is rather 
 puzzling. Luckily, most luckily. Will Everett had 
 just presented me with a great roasting piece of his 
 pig, recently slaughtered — and this was actually the 
 dinner for the day, with the idea of cut and come 
 again on Sunday. Well it was cut and no come 
 again, for none of the children were Jews, and all 
 ate heartily. Meanwhile it snowed and snowed. No- 
 body came for the little Atkinsons, and night fell. 
 Xathan buffetted down to the village, and found 
 everything stopped up in the way of cars, and the 
 road quite blockaded. So we played games with the 
 children till their bed-time ; found enough night 
 gowns for them with dijBBculty, and settled ourselves 
 for the night. 
 
 Friday was bright and clear, but a strange sight 
 was out of the windows. Snow heaped nearly to the 
 top of every lower pane, — a wall of snow two or 
 three feet in front of every door, and not a sign of 
 
LIFE IN BOSTON" AND BROOKLINE 19 
 
 man or beast in the road. No milk-man, no fish-man, 
 no grocer, no butcher, no ice-man came near that day, 
 though their five respective carts usually jingle to 
 the door. Six I ought to say, for the baker is due 
 Friday. The larder question began to grow serious, 
 — for we ate up the rest of the pork for breakfast. 
 Milk gave out, etc. Not butter, for haven't I got 
 the delicious stone jar of butter bought of Fullum, 
 who had it " put down " at Fitchburg ? Don't you 
 wish you had some, unfortunate avoider of buffalo 
 butter ! All stamped in sweet pats by the unerring 
 Sarah ! 
 
 Of course I had no other scholars but the little 
 inmates, but kept a futile school for them for a few 
 hours, and then we adjourned to the parlour, where 
 painting was set up on a large scale. At twelve the 
 shovelling boy came and I sent him down to the 
 village for dinner. Soon after, the heroic Annie 
 Atkinson appeared before the house, a man before 
 her shovelling a path in which she slowly advanced. 
 She was hailed with wild enthusiasm. She reported 
 that Walnut Street had been broken out, and also the 
 Atkinson Hill, by snow ploughs, but still she didn't 
 dare to take the children without a Male (the shoveller 
 came from the Winsors' and went right off) ; so hav- 
 ing relieved her mind by finding them safe, she de- 
 parted, and sent back here young Moses Williams 
 (now a Soph, at college) and his little brother, who 
 took the children home. This left two Lowells, who 
 continued very jolly and pleasant, occasionally " won- 
 dering when James would come " but not at all 
 homesick. They are sweet, nicely bred children and 
 we really enjoyed their niceness very much, only you 
 can imagine it was rather a bore to have anyone 
 round. Besides, no dinner! for That Boy didn't 
 turn up. Two o'clock came, no dinner ; half -past, no 
 dinner! At almost three came the boy, just as I 
 
20 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 was really beginning to worry, all panting, saying it 
 took him all that time to get down and get back. I 
 don't believe that, by the way, but think he stopped 
 to shovel somebody out, and turn an ( ?) penny. At 
 any rate, we were Thankful to see him, — the fish 
 was soon fried and we didn't starve that day. In 
 the afternoon we dressed the children up in flannel 
 drawers and turned them out to play in the drifts. 
 It was laughable to see them plunging like little 
 porpoises in the great snow billows. Olivia could 
 stagger round pretty well, but Mamy, who is fat and 
 roly-poly (eight years old), could only tumble about 
 and get all submerged. I concluded to go out, and 
 in high boots and short skirts started for the Burs- 
 ley's, to compare notes with them. Such a time! 
 Cypress Street proved to be all unbroken and to-day 
 I find myself quite a heroine for being the first to 
 break it out. '' Up to my knees " is an inadequate 
 expression, but I plunged along " in the footsteps 
 which perhaps another, etc.," until pretty near the 
 Bursley's, when I came to a place where all tracks 
 were obliterated and it was up to my waist. I 
 couldn't turn back, being so near, and after a good 
 tug found myself again in a track and arrived safely. 
 I was received with great applause, and came home 
 very easily round by the To^\^l Hall and village, 
 where it is well broken out. Saturday all the 
 butchers and bakers managed to find us. Three 
 Dailys, three Transcripts, and three !N^. Y. Heralds 
 all came together! The report being spread that we 
 had no milk, Edward Hooper arrived with a big pail, 
 and Murray Howe with a full can, just as the milk- 
 man had left, enfin, four quarts ! " James " came 
 for the children about noon, '' the fire began to burn 
 the stick, the stick began to beat the dog " and so on, 
 and we proceed as in whist. But all Nature looks 
 very oddly. Travel is still difficult, cars but just 
 
LIFE IN BOSTON" AND BKOOKLINE 21 
 
 begin to run, and everybody you meet has tales of 
 hair-breadth escapes. I 've left myself no room for 
 anything else, but this is our Chief Event, as you 
 may well imagine. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Trip to Egypt and the Holy Land with Miss Lu- 
 cretia P. Hale to visit their hrother, Charles 
 Hale, Consul General in Egypt. 
 
 (1867-1868) 
 
 To Miss Annie Bursley 
 
 Alexandria, October 26, 1867. 
 {A week yesterday since we got here.) 
 
 MY DARLING ANNIE, — Just HOW I got Fanny H.'s 
 nice letter of just a month ago, which tells me all 
 your news, and sets my mind at rest for the present, 
 but a month, how long it seems ago, and what are 
 you doing now? . . . 
 
 I've been sick (not very) almost ever since we 
 came — used up with the care of the journey, but I 
 saw enough of our life here the first day or two to 
 give you an idea, and you mustn't worry about my 
 health, for a rest in bed is the best possible thing 
 for me. 
 
 Charles has one story of a house, two flights from 
 the street. Do you understand ? It is all built 
 round a well in the middle, which lights the entry 
 and dining-room. People ring at the door at the top 
 of the stairs just like a street-door. I have only been 
 out of it once — that was to go to church Sunday — 
 for ladies don't walk out in Alexandria ! If I 'm 
 well enough we are to drive this p. m. 
 
 We have a maid, a native Arab but very intelli- 
 gent, and you wouldn't know her from a regular 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 23 
 
 woman, for she is dressed all right, only she kisses 
 our hands morning and night, and calls Charles 
 " Master." She does everything for us. I don't lift 
 a finger. You don't know how easy it is to take to 
 doing nothing. " Fanny, please to fold those skirts," 
 etc. I didn't touch to unpack the trunks. She 
 does up things beautifully, — my muslin waist is 
 lovely. 
 
 At nine in the morning she comes and kisses our 
 hands and asks if we are ready for coffee, which we 
 take in bed. Each of us has a little iron bedstead 
 with mosquito netting all round. It is hot night and 
 day, but as we are never in the sun it is not oppres- 
 sive. We lazily dress ourselves and stroll into the 
 salon, where I practise a little on the piano or read, 
 or entertain visitors, for some come in the morning. 
 At twelve, or after, we have dejeuner. Charles gives 
 his arm to Luc, and we elegantly move into the 
 dining-room, where we eat such delicious things — 
 dainty birds, or chops, or omelet or fritters, all cooked 
 by All, who also waits at table. He is all done up 
 in a turban and brown loose trousers with a red sash. 
 He only speaks Arabic and French. The breakfast 
 ends with two or three kinds of fruit, either dates, 
 pomegranates, bananas, grapes, pears. Isn't it ag- 
 gravating that I had to stop eating ? but I shall begin 
 again. After breakfast, we lollop round in the salon, 
 which is furnished with great long couches — and 
 Ali brings coffee in little cups — sweet, without milk, 
 but very delicious. After that it is too warm to do 
 anything, and everybody goes to bed. We sleep till 
 about four when we must be dressed for visitors. By 
 that time the sun has left the front of the house, and 
 it is quite cool on the balcony, where we sit and watch 
 the mad proceedings going on below. The street is 
 narrow, so it looks quite deep, — and full of Arabs 
 raisino; Jack all the time. It would take a hundred 
 
24 
 
 LETTERS OF SUSAIT HALE 
 
 pages to describe. The servants belonging to each 
 house sit on a bench in a kind of archway in the side- 
 walk. They wear loose blue or white gowns with 
 their brown legs and arms sticking out all dusty. 
 They have shoes but often kick them off and sit 
 alongside barefoot. Perhaps a man comes along 
 with a round waiter on his head full of yellow millet, 
 sort of onion-looking things, and some brown things. 
 The person in the blue night gown thinks he '11 trade. 
 The man sets his waiter down on a big wicker cage 
 he lugs for the purpose, and the blue night gown buys 
 two little things full of yellow corn and one of the 
 onion things. He puts them on the bench between 
 him and the white night gown, and both gobble them 
 up, the white quite as much as the blue. Just then 
 a Seis comes tearing along. He is a long-limbed 
 
 Arab, often hand- 
 somely dressed in 
 red and gold vest, 
 with white sleeves 
 and trousers bal- 
 looning out be- 
 hind, and a long 
 staff in his hand. 
 Every carriage (of 
 note) has a Seis 
 who runs before 
 to clear the narrow street ! Here is a string of camels, 
 four or five, joined by a rope from the back of one to 
 the tail of another. They are heavily piled with loads 
 of mud, I should think, and move slowly, necks bob- 
 bing up and down. But the dear little donkeys go 
 jouncing by covered with jingling-bells, like the bells 
 on a tambourine. They are so lively — I love them — 
 but a blue boy rushes along pounding them with a 
 stick. Visitors come to interrupt our observations. If 
 they talk French, as is quite usual, I am " sent to the 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 25 
 
 front," and I hear that somebody says one of the 
 young ladies speaks French remarkably well. That's 
 me. Though since I 'm sick I hear Lucretia shines 
 also. Ali brings coffee every time \dsitors are here 
 as above, vs^hereby I drink a good deal, for it is eti- 
 quette to pretend to drink each time. 
 
 At seven we dine, a meal much like the dejeuner. 
 You must know everything is cooked over charcoal 
 in a very funny kitchen. ISTo range or stove or such 
 clumsiness. Then a little music, much talking with 
 Charles and to bed at ten. Is not that a " change " 
 for a N. E. schoolma'am? I won't cross lines, so 
 Good-bye. 
 
 YouK Susie. 
 
 To Miss Annie Bursley 
 
 Cairo, Egypt, Sunday evening, 
 December 8, 1867. 
 
 DEAR ANNIE, — I 've got your letter of Nov. — , 
 just after you had received my photograph. I'm 
 horrid sorry there was such a gap in my letters then. 
 It is true, I couldn't find the heart to write to you 
 for a long time, and then besides, we were going far- 
 ther off, but now that I hear often, I feel like writ- 
 ing to you even moi-e than I do. I hope you Avon't 
 get tired of my letters ! . . . 
 
 I have lots to tell you. Don't know where to begin. 
 We are going up the Nile this week, or early next, 
 and Mr. and Mrs. Lesley have come here to go with 
 us. Is n't that jolly ! They were in Switzerland, and 
 Charles sent to invite them with us, and they are 
 actually now at Charley's house in Alexandria, and 
 coming here Wednesday. We are wild to see them. 
 You know they are the ones who were at our house 
 two summers. We love her very much; and Mr. L. 
 
26 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 is very agreeable, and Charles and we all like him. 
 We are going in a steam-hoat, which is much more 
 swell than the sail-boats, called "dahebiahs," like 
 those the Rodmans, Lawrences and Tuckers go in — 
 much larger and more comfortable, and altogether 
 more distinguished. So we shall go steaming by them 
 on the river, and stop and make a call on them, and 
 they will all lie down and foam at the mouth. . . . 
 
 We shall take books and work, and I believe the 
 piano, and paints of course, and just lollop on the 
 deck with an awning, and eat delicious things, and 
 stop when we please to go on shore, and ride on don- 
 keys to see ruins. What fun! I wish you were 
 going. Fanny, the maid, goes, — and Hassan, who 
 is a love, — and Mr. Tarvil, who is " Dragoman of 
 the Consulate," a very distinguished young gentle- 
 man of high birth, in a fez, but otherwise clothed like 
 a Christian — wears light gloves, and can talk Eng- 
 lish — a very gentlemanly little fellow. You know 
 Thursday was my birthday. Mr. Tarvil sent me a 
 gorgeous bouquet of sixty-seven exquisite roses (I 
 counted them) and a long box containing an amber 
 necklace with gold majigs hanging from it. Wasn't 
 it perfectly jolly? Luc. bought me a bangly gilt 
 clasp and belt at an Arab bazaar, and Charley gave 
 me a lovely fat blank book with drawing-paper 
 leaves, for a kind of journal of this trip. When 
 Hassan came in that morning, he brought me a big 
 bunch of flowers about two feet across, which he pre- 
 sented with a lovely grin. And we had a bottle of 
 champagne at dinner. Wasn't it odd on my birth- 
 day to stand out on the balcony in my harege dress, 
 arranging my roses ? — a perfectly lovely warm day, 
 — trees, green birds singing, sun shining. Mr. Law- 
 rence gave me a little riding whip (for donkeys). 
 
 Cairo is delightful, awfully nicer than Alexandria, 
 and we have moved all our traps up here and shall 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 27 
 
 be here a good while after we come back from up 
 river. We are at a great big English hotel, which 
 only opens to-day, and we are the only people in it. 
 Everything is in a half-finished state from the roof 
 down to the coffee-cups, and the English are so "stick- 
 in-the-mud" (I beg Ira's pardon, but I really think 
 the English are awfully stupid) that it seems as if 
 they never would get things under way, which makes 
 us rather mad, and we cuss and swear at them a 
 good deal, but the rooms are princely and the cook 
 is French and feed delicious. The only other people 
 as yet at the table d'hote are Mr. Forest, a director 
 of the Hotel Company. We call him especially 
 " Stick-in-the-Mud," for he is a perfect owl. He 
 has his hair parted in the middle and a loose beard 
 like your brother's — but I am glad to say the like- 
 ness extends no further. . . . Our rooms are at the 
 corner of the house with a stone balcony running all 
 round, where we sit and look out on a lovely wide 
 view of sky and trees and donkeys and camels. 
 
 I began a little sketch this p. m. I hope I shall 
 have lots to take home. Charley generally goes to 
 another hotel, but it is small, and he gave up the 
 rooms he usually has to the Lawrences. We dined 
 there yesterday with them and had rather a good 
 time. The Tuckers and their young men are there, 
 " Billy " Howe, Lawrence Mason and Arthur Law- 
 rence. The latter is very pleasant and sweet, I 
 think. . . . He means to be a clergyman — Episco- 
 pal — but he has a good deal of fun — and is hand- 
 some and gentle. He has been here to see us — he 
 shares my ' enthusiasm for riding on donkeys. We 
 shall see them all on the river, and perhaps dine with 
 them on Christmas Day, if we don't get too far ahead 
 of them. The Rodmans got off yesterday, — we paid 
 them a visit on their dahebiah the day before. It 
 looked very cosy and nice, little cabins for each and 
 
28 
 
 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 a salon where their books and work were spread 
 about, but our boat will be bigger. . . . 
 
 This is the queerest town you ever saw: — I shall 
 describe it in some other letter which perhaps jou 
 will see. I am a great deal happier here than any 
 time since leaving home, and I expect to enjoy the 
 Nile. Do write lots, you can't write too much. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Annie Buesley 
 
 On hoard " Besh-hish" near Tel-el-amana, 
 NiLE^ Sunday, December '2'2, 1867. 
 . DEAR ANNIE, — I wish you could see us, all sitting 
 on deck in the soft Avind and sunshine. Charles and 
 Lucretia, lazy things, just finishing their coffee (ten 
 o'clock A. M. ! ) , Mrs. Lesley and I writing letters, 
 Mr. Lesley sketching a cliff into his notebook, and 
 Mr. Van Lennep making cartridges, Hassan stand- 
 ing by to help him. 
 This is a picture of the 
 man at the wheel with 
 another old "Rag-bag," 
 as we call them, to help 
 him. The helmsman is 
 generally on a broad 
 grin at our proceedings. 
 We have had a per- 
 fectly jolly week, and 
 so far the Nile voyage 
 is enchanting. People 
 who take it don't say half enough about it. I 
 thought I would keep a little journal day by day for 
 you, but we are so busy and hurried, and I 'm so 
 tired at night ! I have n't touched it. I think I must 
 try to remember the chief things, however, for you. 
 will be amused, I 'm sure. 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 29 
 
 Monday we went on board and got settled and 
 spent the night, but didn't start, for Charles was in 
 Alexandria for a ball which he had to attend because 
 the Viceroy did. It was very pretty lying at the 
 shore at "■ Boulak," the name of the starting-place — 
 but awfully cold on deck with a beastly wind. 
 
 Tuesday we had a telegram from Charles saying 
 he would arrive and be ready to start about three. 
 Fanny came to me and said, " Captain want to know, 
 Miss Susie, if you will have the fires made under the 
 engines." Yes, I said I would — wasn't it curious 
 to be ordering the steam made for a steam-boat ? We 
 waited lunch for Charles, and started the minute he 
 arrived, but we had a very exciting meal, for every 
 one kept springing up and rushing to see a palace, 
 a harem or something, as we passed by Cairo and its 
 suburb. It is all very pretty. We were so jolly, five 
 of us, Mr. and Mrs. Lesley, Luc, Charles and I, for 
 Mr. Tarvil, who went to the ball vsdth C, saw fit to 
 miss the train from Alexandria, so we started without 
 him ; for you must know there is a railroad by the 
 side of the river as far as Minyeh, and we could pick 
 up the tardy Tarvil at one of the stations. 
 
 About two hours after we started Hassan in great 
 excitement announced that he saw the Lawrences' 
 dahebiah. He instantly fired two pistols. We 
 stopped and after a great deal of handkerchief wav- 
 ing (they raised and lowered their fiag for a salute), 
 C. and I got into our little boat, and were rowed 
 across the river to them. The river is wider than 
 you would suppose, as wide as across the cove at 
 J. Pond, from Pine bank over to Mr. Frank Park- 
 man's, perhaps. When we got over there it was al- 
 ready dark, for there is no twilight here ; minute the 
 sun sets the glow fades, out come the stars and night 
 begins. The Lawrences received us with joy, for 
 they were very gloomy. Only think, the distance we 
 
30 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 came in two hours took them four days, for there was 
 a head wind all the time, and they only got on by 
 " tracking," which is being pulled along on a tow- 
 path by the side, by the crew and a rope. Mr. L. is 
 an invalid, and altogether they were having a ghastly 
 time, especially as they had seen nothing of the other 
 boats of their friends, who by starting earlier had 
 outstripped them. However, we cheered them a good 
 deal, gave Mr. L. the latest Daily Advertiser (for we 
 got a mail the last thing before sailing which brought 
 me your dear letter of the 21st Nov.) and brought 
 Mrs. L. and Minna Motley across to dine with us. 
 You must know we have the most stunning feed, six 
 or eight courses at lunch and dinner. . . . We dine 
 generally at five or six o'clock on deck, which even 
 after dark can be shut in close with a\vnings, so that 
 our silver candelabra with six candles don't flare too 
 much, — there are also murky lanterns hanging above 
 the table. After dinner, we adjourned as usual to 
 the salon, showed the ladies our cabins and cosy ar- 
 rangements and had a refreshing exchange of senti- 
 ment. Their dragoman, Josef, came for them in 
 their boat, and we bade them farewell. Our boat 
 always stops for the nights, so all this time we were 
 at anchor, but at sunrise next morning we steamed 
 off, leaving the L.'s behind. I hope they have had 
 better luck since. 
 
 Wednesday. — I was up rather early, and had my 
 coffee alone on deck. Lovely scenery on each side, 
 palms, villagas, low hills, women leading sheep dowTi 
 to water, donkeys and camels distinct against the 
 sky. . . . 
 
 By and by we came to "Beni Suef, and here we had 
 the funniest time. The Consular Agent for U. S. 
 heard we were coming and came down to meet us. He 
 is an Arab, but Christian, but not at all a Yankee, — 
 don't talk anything but "Rag-bag." Hassan inter- 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 31 
 
 preted. He invited us to his house, and we all went 
 with him through a large town of narrow streets like 
 Cairo, to his funny house (I have a sketch of the 
 interior), where he treated to sherbet (awful good) 
 and coffee. Besides, he sent lots of oranges, a sheep 
 and a turkey to the boat! Ain't it fun to be Con- 
 suls ? Here Mr. Tarvil arrived, but to our grief no 
 Mr. Van Lennep, whom Charles had invited to join 
 us, rather late to be sure, at the ball Monday night. 
 That night we steamed up a few miles to some ala- 
 baster quarries which Mr. Lesley wanted to see. He 
 is splendid for this trip, for he is thunderingly scien- 
 tific, and with maps and guide books roots out all 
 kinds of things to see, besides he can read hiero- 
 glyphics, and knows all about Pacht and other god- 
 desses and suns with horns and so on. We anchored 
 just off the quarries for the night, and early the next 
 (Thursday) morning Mr. Lesley and I went ashore 
 (nobody else up) to examine the alabaster. . . . Mr. 
 Lesley admired tlie alabaster, and I ran up a little 
 hill and admired the lovely, lovely river, with green 
 shores dotted with palms, stretching far away every- 
 where. 
 
 But this day, Thursday, was wild. We came upon 
 the Rodmans who were delightful — and so glad to 
 see us. They had been two weeks getting here, but 
 seemed to be having a lovely time, not grumbling at 
 detentions or inconveniences, Mr. Rodman is rabid 
 on birds. He shoots and stuffs a great many. They 
 dined with us, for we decided at once to anchor by 
 them for the night. Imagine our excitement at hear- 
 ing shouts from the shore, and then appeared Mr. 
 Van Lennep, who sprang aboard, panting and dusty. 
 He came by railroad too late to catch us at Beni 
 Suef, went on at a venture in the cars, and saw from 
 the car-winclow our boat on the river. Jumped out 
 at a way-station, not knowing its name, and had been 
 
32 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 riinning half an hour, on the chance of hitting us. 
 If we had n't stopped for the Rodmans he might have 
 missed us entirely ! A chance Arab soon came along 
 with his luggage — there always is an Arab who 
 turns up to fetch and carry. Of course his arrival 
 was very exciting. I thought Emma Rodman would 
 have died of Van L. He speaks English very well, 
 but with an accent, of course, and in his excitement 
 he used such idioms. She said he was just like a man 
 in a play, and so he was. Get the photograph book 
 from iSTathan and look at him, for he plays a promi- 
 nent part in this history. He is lovely, — so gay, 
 boyish, gentlemanly, well-informed, agreeable — 
 quite the life of the party. He and Mr. Tarvil, who 
 is not so much of a man, but harmless, are running 
 and fooling each other all the time, in French, Italian, 
 Arabic and English. I sit between them at dinner, 
 and they vie with each other in passing the wine, 
 and folding my napkin. Good fun, hey? 
 
 The Rodmans were nice, nice, nice. We parted 
 from them that night, but their dahebiah was close 
 alongside, and the next morning, Friday, they came 
 upon our boat and we all steamed together two or 
 three miles to ... , where we landed for an excur- 
 sion. These excursions are such fun. About a mil- 
 lion donkeys were waiting for us, sent for\vard by 
 the Consular Agent of Beni Suef. Our side-saddles 
 were heiked on to them, the gentlemen mounted Arab 
 steeds, also provided by (and at expense of) Con- 
 sular Agent, and escorted by no end of natives we all 
 trotted off to see the Coptic Convent, and afterwards 
 an ancient grotto full of hieroglyphics. I can't begin 
 to tell the fun. Emma and ]Mrs. R. very jolly, our 
 little donkeys so svv-eet, each with a donkey-boy hold- 
 ing us on, and trying to talk English or Arabic with 
 us. The strangest part is that all the neighbourhood 
 tags along too. I counted forty-five people in our 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 33 
 
 party, though we ourselves even with Hassan, etc., 
 were not a dozen. The "Captain of the Province" 
 was there on horseback, a very swell personage wear- 
 ing gold chains and a yellow and red turban. He 
 delighted in parading his horsemanship, which was 
 wonderful, and careered before us across the sand 
 just like a desert, — in fact it is nothing else, — like 
 all the pictures of Bedouins throwing the jereed. 
 Van Lennep and Tarsal also were on splendid horses, 
 and went coursing about throwing reeds at each other. 
 Altogether it was a wild scene. Can you fancy it at 
 all? Ourselves on gentle donkeys, our white um- 
 
 brellas up, and two or three attendants each, — 
 crowds of white-teethed Arabs, — horses rushing about 
 everywhere — and all on a stretch of dazzling yellow 
 sand wherever you could look, with low sand hills 
 before us where the Grotto was. The antiquities 
 were not much there, better farther on. The Copts 
 gave us coffee which we drank standing outside the 
 convent, with all the Rag-bags staring at us. 
 
 So back to lunch, which the Rodmans shared with 
 us, — and then we sadly left them and steamed up 
 to Minyeh, quite a big town, where we had to stop 
 to take in coal, and stopped all night. Mr. Van 
 Lennep and I tuned the guitar which Charles brought 
 along. He has an excellent ear, and knows a good 
 deal about music. 
 
 Saturday, after an hour or two of steaming, we 
 reached Beni-Hassan which is a remarkable place 
 
34 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 for antiquities; so we stopped for the day, making 
 one excursion before luncheon on donkeys as before, 
 and another after. In the morning we had even 
 more escort than before, so after lunch as we started 
 Charley told Hassan to tell them that only those 
 must go with us who were absolutely 
 necessary — " that he would not have 
 the Whole Village accompany us, 
 and that if they did he should punish 
 them." You ought to have seen them 
 scuttle when they heard this. Seems 
 as if I should die laughing to think 
 that it 's necessary to order the whole 
 village to stay at home. After all 
 there were about six to each donkey. 
 Here is one, clothed, fact, you observe, in the " tight- 
 fitting browm costume " described by Thackeray in 
 " Comhill to Cairo," all shaved but a little tuft on 
 the top of his head. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 To THE Hale Family 
 
 Assouan, Sunday, January 5, 1868. 
 
 DEAR FAMILY, — Don't supposo that the ISTile is a 
 place of leisure, for nobody since Luc's last date has 
 had any time for %vriting I Besides to tell all we do 
 would take volumes; but I must try to go on with 
 matters where she left them. 
 
 Sunday, ^2d Decemher. — We steamed quietly up 
 river, resting and -writing what you see — but in the 
 P.M. we reached Siut, where the "brother" of the 
 Consular Agent awaited us ("brother" means 
 " friend," but is the term in constRut use on the 
 !N"ile), with donkeys richly caparisoned — lovely fel- 
 lows to escort us to the town about a mile off. The 
 two sons of the C. Agent also came on board, youths 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 35 
 
 of fourteen and sixteen who can talk a little English. 
 Our cortege, amounting to thirtj or so agents and 
 carwasses, was imposing. The ride was lovely, 
 through green fields on a high causeway, which was 
 raised for the telegraph poles, which reach, indeed, 
 even here to Assuan! At Siut there was a great 
 deal of hospitable backing and filling, because our 
 Consular Agent was away, but that didn't seem to 
 be any reason why his "brother" shouldn't invite 
 us to a gorgeous dinner. So we went first to C. 
 Agent's house and had coffee and saw his little 
 daughter and his monkey, and afterwards sons, and 
 all came to "brother" Weesa's house where we had 
 such a dinner! Ourselves were seven, — the Ameri- 
 can missionary was invited, he happens to be a 
 Scotchman, named Hogg. The Mondiah of the Prov- 
 ince came, very swell in tan-coloured kid gloves and 
 otherwise European in costume, but only talking 
 Arabic; a friend, in a promiscuous costume who 
 dropt in for no special reason that we could find out, 
 completed the party at table, for the worthy Weesa 
 himself only helped the five or six Arabic "Pegs" 
 and " Eullums " who served the meal. There was also 
 an anxious-browed friend, whom we called Frank 
 Peabody from the resemblance, who stood in the 
 doorway (in a turban) and advised about matters, — 
 rushing for an additional tumbler when it was needed. 
 The sons of the C Agent and half a dozen children 
 were suppressed during dinner, and Hassan sate 
 without in the entry. 
 
 Well, there were thirteen courses which we ate, all 
 delicious, and when we said we couldn't eat any 
 more, which is the custom, there were still eight more 
 dishes visible, to come, and more doubtless in the 
 kitchen. The piece de resistance was a whole sheep, 
 which Mr. Tarvil carved. It proved to be stuffed 
 with a pillar of rice containing almonds and other 
 
36 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 matters. Sweets and solids are alternated, not as 
 with us — so blanc-mange appeared after cliicken, 
 and next came sausages. What a dinner! After- 
 wards, when we had returned to the salon, we had tea 
 served with orange squeezed into it, very good. Then 
 came the dancing girls, richly caparisoned, and an 
 extraordinary orchestra which sate on the floor and 
 produced rare sounds. We left on our donkeys be- 
 .^^ tween eight and nine. It 
 
 ^^ ^a^/ ^^^ perfectly dark and riding 
 
 .^^ r. — ^ *^^ through the narrow streets 
 lighted by candles, borne by 
 Kag-bags, in immense lanterns, 
 was very Arabian Nights- 
 esque. The street is shut off 
 at intervals by great wooden doors, which are opened 
 when thumped by One-eyed Calenders. . . . 
 
 Tuesday, steaming again, and Susie, Luc, and I 
 very busy preparing little matters for the stockings. 
 W^e dine on deck every day, just at sunset, when we 
 stop steaming for the night. ... If it is too cool 
 for all the evening on deck we go down by and by 
 to the salon, where we play picquet, read Artemus 
 Ward, or write a paper of consequences. At eight 
 o'clock Benedetto brings a tray with tea, which is 
 served generally by Mr. Van Lennep, and we break up 
 by nine or ten, very tired, especially after excursions. 
 We are UTiting a novel, each one a chapter, by turns, 
 and every day at dinner the new chapter is read, 
 amid the yells of the company. It is getting very 
 exciting. 
 
 We got Hassan (much pleased) to put the stockings 
 by the beds of the gentlemen. There was a little 
 interchange of stockings in the female quarter and 
 
 Wednesday, Xmas, great hilarity was caused by 
 the opening thereof. I prepared waggish and appro- 
 priate sketches, which cause a smile, for each stock- 
 
TO EGYPT A^^D THE HOLY LA^D 37 
 
 ing. We reached Denderah pretty early and went 
 off to the ruins on donkeys, taking our lunch with 
 us. This was our first genuine Ruin of a temple, 
 and very interesting, although stupidly modern, being 
 only the age of the Ptolemies and Cleopatra. Mr. 
 Lesley is death on hieroglyphics and cartouches. 
 Thanks to him we all know " Ramses II " like a 
 familiar friend, and the sign of life is as readily 
 recognised (and as common here) as S. J. 1860 X 
 on the Ruins of West Roxbury. Mr. Van Lennep 
 is devoted to the subject, and Mr. Lesley. The rest 
 follow with unequal steps, more or less ardent. I 
 confess I have very little power of digestion for de- 
 ciphering hieroglyphics. I am apt to settle down 
 with my paint-box and sketch a green field and a 
 little bit of mountain which haven't the remotest 
 connection \nth Ramses and Thormoses. I like im- 
 mensely the temples and obelisks, but not the things 
 on them — except in very small doses. . . . We 
 lunched on the very top of Denderah, with the hawk- 
 headed god, Horas, or perhaps it was the goddess, 
 Pacht, sticking out her leg at us on the wall. Do 
 forgive me if I don't say enough about the antiqui- 
 ties. It is all in " Mui-ray." Mind, I like them, 
 only I can't describe about the ISTorth-wall and the 
 South-wall and the left wing of the propylon. That 
 p. ]M. Ave went across the river, I think, in our small 
 boat, to Keneh, where the Besh-hish was coaling. A 
 jolly Christmas dinner and flaming |)lum-pudding. 
 There spent the night, and 
 
 Thursday, reached Thebes at noon, where we stayed 
 five days. Here lives Mustafa Aga, C. Agent both 
 for French and English, a character — Arabic, with 
 a smattering of all languages. Vain, simple, sweet 
 old thing, very hospitable. He has built his house 
 under the portico of an old temple, so that it is en- 
 tered through grand old columns. We made him a 
 
38 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 call, and he gave us coffee, sherbet, and also lots of 
 blue china antiquities, and other rare things. We 
 moored the boat, however, on the other side of the 
 river, for convenience of going to the Temple of 
 Quomah, which we did that same afternoon. Very 
 lovely, and old, lots of Ramses. We went also to the 
 Ramesium, which is near, and where is the great big 
 statue fallen down, the largest in the world, but all 
 ruined. 
 
 Friday, a delightful day at the Tombs of the Kings, 
 only Susie Lesley was too tired to go with us. It is 
 a very long donkey ride through marvellous wastes 
 of sand, and the tombs are excavated, sixty feet do^vn- 
 ward, in the mountain. Didn't Belzoni have fun 
 finding them! The walls inside are covered with 
 paintings still very bright in colour. We had each 
 a candle to grope about with. There was one awful 
 place leading into the very bowels of the earth, and 
 smelling very considerably of mummy. No mum- 
 mies there now, — but when we came out we had a 
 very funny time with crowds of "Rag-bags" who 
 came round with antiquities ? ! ! ? We all sate down 
 on the yellow sand exhausted with the climb up the 
 steep steps of "No. 18" (tombs are numbered); 
 these creatures came round with sort of bags or bas- 
 kets, and squatting before us, and gradually hitching 
 up closer, till finally their glowering eyes and grin- 
 ning teeth were right in our faces ; silently they pro- 
 duced their treasures — a mummy hand with ring 
 on it, a piece of mummy-case, a scarabseus, and so 
 on. Hassan, standing in the midst, does the bargain- 
 ing. "Well, Hassan," says the Consul, "you may 
 ask him what he '11 take for this hawk with nothing 
 but the feet and tail left." Hassan to man, " War- 
 raqua, warragy." Man says five pounds. Hassan 
 throws the thing contemptuously in his face, " La, 
 la!" (No, no!). "I '11 give you two piastres." (Eight 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 30 
 
 piastres make a shilling.) So the man gives it, and 
 takes two i3iastres. Mr. Lesley rather wanted a 
 searabaeiis, for which the o^vner demanded an enor- 
 mous price. It ended in his taking a shilling. After 
 this we lunched at the mouth of a tomb, and Luc. 
 and I napped on the sand. It is a desolate enough 
 place without a spear of grass or a tree. The men 
 went into several other tombs, — but No. 18 is the 
 best. A fatiguing day but good, — and it 's lovely 
 dropping down to the river on the gentle little don- 
 keys in the magnificent sunsets we have every night, 
 all different. Of course I can't tell half the inci- 
 dents of donkey-boys contretemps^ etc., that keep us 
 in a state of constant frolic and excitement. Hassan 
 brings me every flower that grows — not many, but 
 some are lovely, the blossoms generally of the new 
 fresh-springing crops, all leguminosse, every one of 
 'em, except some. 
 
 Saturday. — Donkeys again to Medineh Haboo, 
 still on the W. side of the river — a grand temple, 
 with a courtyard and pillars still magnificent. Home 
 at sunset by the Great Colossi, one of which is the 
 Vocal Statue (beloved by Holland), which I like 
 best of everything in Egypt. The dear old things 
 sit so comfortably with their hands on their knees, 
 looking forth across the valley, in a lovely glowing 
 field of green, doing just what they have a mind to, 
 and not having to move for anything. We saw them 
 all these days, but now near for the first time. They 
 are enormous, — and how lovely, their long shadows 
 slanting across the plain. As for the Voice, it is 
 ridiculous, and I believe it used to speak differently. 
 'This day we moved over to the Thebes side and were 
 to have done Kamak on 
 
 Sunday — but for a wonder, I was really sick with 
 heiking, — and all were so tired it was decided to 
 rest, a delightful conclusion of the Consul. I stayed 
 
40 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 on the bed and Susie Lesley nursed me in a lovely 
 
 manner. Up-stairs they had (whose dahebiaH 
 
 overtook us here) to lunch. He is a l^ew Jersey 
 man, who came up with wife, daughter and son. Son 
 sick, they, disgusted, turned round at Thebes and went 
 home. Fools, thorough (bad) specimens of preju- 
 diced Americans. They have afforded us fun, — but 
 I won't waste time on their idiot-syncrasies. They 
 mean well. 
 
 Monday, December 30. — I was all right and 
 everybody fresh and lively for Karnak, which is con- 
 sidered, you know, the great thing of all on the whole 
 ISTile. As I understand it, Thebes is the modern 
 name of a toT^m on the ruins of an old town, named 
 Luxor. Karnak is a great old temple half a mile 
 out of Luxor, and the Colossi and those other places we 
 have seen before were clustered about the Grandeurs 
 of Karnak. The river now runs between; but some 
 people think it used to go the other side of Karnak 
 which was then connected by avenues with the Colossi 
 and all that. But then again, others think the river 
 always did, etc. You can read a great deal of 
 twaddle about Karnak, and see a great many pic- 
 tures that don't look anything like it in books such 
 as " Bartlett's " and others. It is magnificent, and 
 beyond description. There is a great deal left of it, 
 though all speaks of ruin, — but especially the grand 
 hall of pillars, close together like a grove of palms 
 and no roof but the bright blue sky above, is beauti- 
 ful and solemn. We spent a long day there, wander- 
 ing with the guide to the different obelisks and won- 
 ders, but always returning to the grand hall. It 
 seems frivolous even to mention that we lunched at 
 the feet of these great pillars, — but lunch was very 
 refreshing, especially when Mustafa Aga's surprise 
 appeared in the form of an immense tin waiter, 
 which being uncovered displayed a whole turkey and 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 41 
 
 a whole sheep, each richly cooked, and stuffed with 
 rice fixin's, brought hot from his house. He was 
 present himself, and we drank his health in cham- 
 pagne. ^^Hiile we were feasting, his attendants spread 
 in another part of the temple at the foot of the col- 
 umns a large turkey carpet and cushions, to which 
 we retired and where we reclined, drinking hot cof- 
 fee and (the gentlemen) smoking. Thus comfortably, 
 we fell asleep, or dozed, looking up at the sky beyond 
 the graceful capitals, — and at lovely birds floating 
 in the sunlight. . . . We all stayed till after dark, 
 which comes soon after sunset, to see the effect of 
 some rockets or blue-lights in the great hall. Then 
 home by lovely starlight and a little new moon. . . . 
 Wednesday^ January 1. — Mr. Tarvil prepared 
 for us a lovely surprise, for on coming on deck in 
 the morning we found presents for everyone, grouped 
 about a rare old image, very antique, of some king, 
 for the Consul. The presents are all real antiquities, 
 which he got at Thebes ; they were accompanied by 
 little mottoes or inscriptions with each. Wasn't it 
 pretty of him ? Before noon we got to Edfou, don- 
 keyed to Temple, the last cleared out I think by 
 Mariette Bey and so in beautiful condition, — a won- 
 derful courtyard, and splendid view of the Nile Val- 
 ley from the tojD of the What 's-his-name, reached by 
 two hundred and twenty-five steps built into the wall, 
 just like the roll-marble things Charley used to do 
 with the bricks. Lady Duff Gordon's boat was here, 
 and she came to lunch with us. Very agreeable and 
 amusing. She lives in her dahebiah, cruising up and 
 down as she likes. Quite strong-minded, but well- 
 mannered and well-informed. She assumed the con- 
 versation, and carried it through with a firm hand, 
 to the satisfaction of the audience, pausing occasion- 
 ally to give the rest a chance, but more often for a 
 whiff at her cigarette. She is a picturesque looking 
 
42 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 creature, tall with long black skirt, no hoops (but 
 no more have we, here), and a hat wound with white 
 cashmere. She carries a cane, and looks a little in- 
 firm — not with age — about fifty-five, I should think, 
 but delicate health. Why she blows up and do"\vn the 
 Nile year in and year out, while Lord Alexander 
 D. G. pursues some honest mercantile calling in Lon- 
 don, I dunno, and I didn't ask her. 
 
 Thursday. — When we got up we found ourselves 
 at Silsilis, where are traces of the ancient quarries 
 where Ramses got his building-things. A few of us 
 stopped to see them, then we steamed on and to our 
 surprise in an hour or two were at Assuan. 
 
 This is the end of our steaming, for here is the 
 First Cataract which our steamer cannot pass. Dahe- 
 biahs sometimes go farther, but often don't. At any 
 rate, we have had lots of pleasure, and it would be 
 idle to regret not going on — though we are all sorry 
 to turn back, especially as we shall go down much 
 faster, and stopping but little. Who would not be 
 a Baker bold, and go up to the Albert Nyanza. The 
 natives and the scenery get more Baker'-i&h every 
 day. We are now entirely used to seeing our fellow 
 citizens without any clothing whatever; a simple 
 turban, or a mantle over the shoulders, seems almost 
 oppressive. There are rocks on the shore and in the 
 river. The view is lovely. 
 
 Friday, at an early hour, the donkeys were waiting 
 on the shore, and camels also came and offered them- 
 selves, but Hassan drove them off. You must know 
 at all these places there has been a visit from a Con- 
 sular Agent, or his brother, great kow-towing, offers 
 of attentions, and often a present of sheep and tur- 
 keys. They all are very smiling, and transmit 
 through Tarvil expressions of devotion to Charles. 
 They generally accompany us with all their relations 
 on our excursions, and provide the richest donkeys 
 
TO EGYPT AXD THE HOLY LAND 43 
 
 the land affords. My donkey on this trip was that 
 of the " Inspector General," and a very lovely beast. 
 We all set off for a fleet donkey gallop over the sands, 
 to the town opposite the island of Philse — a wild 
 Nubian village, the streets full of heaps of dried 
 dates, — women selling henna, a green powder, men 
 with wonderful woolly hair. We got into a little 
 dahebiah to cross the river — such yelling! — and, as 
 we crossed, the river was alive with enviable little 
 Nubians floating about on logs, and crying " Back- 
 sheesh." They roll up their slight clothing in a wob 
 on their heads, and 
 then -sitting on a log 
 of the Doum palm 
 (which is very 
 floatsy), they career 
 about in the stream. 
 
 We passed a lovely day at Philse, and then came 
 back down the cataract in a little dahebiah. The 
 cataract is a tremendous rapid, nothing more, but the 
 natives make a tremendous time of the pass, and it 
 really is a little precarious. They howl and yell, say 
 their prayers — the boat swoops over the foam, a few 
 waves break over the deck, and with a swirl, swing 
 round at the foot of the fall. The sailors dance for 
 joy, seize their oars, and keep off the rocks. It was 
 a wild scene. Such a din I never heard. 
 
 Saturday, we had a quiet morning, all a good deal 
 knocked up with the day before. In the afternoon 
 we had a nice donkey-ride through the town, which 
 is odder than Siut, and in the evening a visit from 
 young Duff Gordon, for Lady G.'s dahebiah has got 
 up here. He is a boy of eighteen, intelligent, very 
 English, handsome open face, and blue eyes. He 
 was at school at Eton, and he talks about " an awful 
 row " and other things quite in the language of Tom 
 Bro^vn. 
 
44 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Sunday. — This morning we had a visit from a 
 French Minister Plenipotentiary, who is here in an- 
 other of the Viceroy's steamers, a lovely handsome 
 man of some fifty summers, with elegant French 
 manners. As he left, little Gordon came to lunch, 
 but before we got to lunch two Englishmen sot in, 
 Mr. Ind. Coope and his tutor, Mr. Tolfrey, who are 
 friends of the Rodmans, and very impatient to see 
 them. See how we have randans, even six hundred 
 miles from the sea. As soon as possible after lunch, 
 we got up steam and were off, amid firing of guns 
 and waving handkerchiefs, with the other civilised 
 just mentioned. But to tell the truth we are now 
 stuck on a sand-bank just opposite Assuan ! — and 
 Charles has just thrown down to us in the salon from 
 the deck an elegant French note from the French 
 minister offering to come a I'aiibe dernain, and haul 
 us off. If it should prove we can't get off and have 
 to live here, I shall send this letter by him — as he 
 leaves in a week or two. . . . 
 
 Friday, January 9. — We didn't have to live op- 
 posite Assuan, but we had sich a time! The Gov- 
 ernor of that place sent word that two hundred and 
 fifty men should come to get us off. They kept ar- 
 riving in piratical-looking scow-like dahebiahs — not 
 two hundred and fifty, but twenty-eight, who pretty 
 much filled the boat. We sate on deck watching 
 them tugging at a rope, don't expect me to explain, 
 which ran along the deck, singing, " Allah ! ha li ! 
 Allah he li," the loveliest chaunt, all the time, the 
 captain and many others screaming orders, — a regu- 
 lar domdaniel. At eleven o'clock (no use going to 
 bed in that din), they got us off, and then it was 
 sweet to see Hassan paying these rag-bags, a moder- 
 ate backsheesh of a few copper piastres to each, 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 45 
 
 which made them smile from ear to ear and say, 
 '' Ketter hairak," which means, " thanks." . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Nathan Hale 
 
 Hotel des Ambassadeues, Cairo, 
 January 22, 1868. 
 
 Wednesday. — Charles to Alexandria for a few 
 days — and we to the Pyramids. Shall I tell it 
 long or short ? Well, say do^Mi to the end of the 
 next page. 
 
 Hassan went mth C. — but Haggi Avas left in 
 charge, and donkeys, carriage and lunch were or- 
 dered over night for eight o'clock. At half-past nine 
 or after we started, but I won't describe the cussin' 
 and swearin' which occupied the interval. A cawass 
 of the police on horseback in light-blue broadcloth 
 and a sword, — and a secondary cawass on a don- 
 key with pistols, accompanied us for General Effect, 
 and to keep off the natives. The gentle Haggi 
 mounted the box. We drove to Old Cairo, whither 
 donkeys had preceded us. At the ferry there, what 
 a scrimmage! One donkey fell dowii but soon got 
 up — the cawass's horse refused to cross on the boat, 
 so he had to take to a donkey. Amid yells we got 
 off and got across, — there to mount our little beasts 
 for a lovely ride to the Pyramids on the raised road 
 prepared for the railway track. 
 
 I ascended the Grand Pyramid ; Lucretia got 
 halfway; Mr. Lesley only a few rods, and Susie 
 didn't try. It is a fearful heik and entre nous don't 
 pay. But I thought my constituents in America 
 would be disappointed if I didn't make the ascent. 
 I beg you not to think the height of the blocks is 
 here exaggerated, for it isn't. Nothing dangerous, 
 
46 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 though fatiguing, and the Arabs very strong. They 
 pull you up like a weed. I found myself alone at 
 the top with my two guides, one 
 of whom could talk English, and 
 pestered me for backsheesh, but I 
 talked to him like a father till he 
 desisted. Afterwards we lunched, 
 and took a prolonged view of 
 the SphyiLX, who is very good. 
 Home by simset, but awful tired. \Ye think we 
 prefer the Pyramids at a respectful distance. . . . 
 
 To Miss Annie E. Buesley 
 
 [Alexandria], Wednesday evening, 
 February 5, 1868. 
 
 So, my dear, we have got back here and I have 
 your delightful letters of January 2, and Jan- 
 uary 9. Alas! you are perfectly right about people 
 living together. It would never do. I would risk 
 your peculiarities and mine, perhaps, but the two 
 families. No. If you and I get toothless and shaky, 
 twenty years hence, we will retire from the world 
 together and fight it out in the IST. W. corner of Ver- 
 mont, or some such place. 
 
 Dear, I shall quarrel -with one thing you said — 
 but then you'll never stick to it — that it's better 
 not to get attached to people in places, and so save 
 disappointments and separations. Don't you know 
 you've got to love somebody, and if you shut your 
 heart out from other people you '11 take to loving 
 
 yourself ? Look at ; a melancholy illustration 
 
 of not caring for others. No, no, love all the people 
 you can. The sufferings from love are not to be 
 compared to the sorrows of loneliness. . . . 
 
 YouE LOVING Susie. 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 47 
 
 To Ebwaed Everett Hale 
 
 Mars ABA, April 8, 1868. 
 
 DEAR EDWARD, — ThosG who travel in tents have 
 very little chance for ^vriting; but to-day we have 
 had only a short march, and found ourselves here 
 at noon, where we are to rest till to-morrow. So 
 after lunching in the shadow of the convent — which 
 is so inhospitable as only to give water to strangers, 
 and admit none, we have taken ourselves to our tents. 
 It is fearfully hot and sultry, still a slight breeze 
 comes in at our door and I sit in my shirt-sleeves to 
 write. Now I think you are enough mystified, and 
 I '11 set about telling how we got here. To begin 
 where Lucretia left off above — 
 
 Saturday, April Jf., was cold and rainy. Luc. and 
 I stayed indoors all day. ... I painted away on 
 flowers at every spare minute. I want you all to get 
 an idea of them, though there are such millions, it 
 is out of the question to keep pace with them. 
 
 Sunday, we got up at four-thirty a.m. ! ! (not 
 Lucretia, she stayed in her bed wisely), had coffee 
 at five, and then escorted by Finkenstein (Ameri- 
 can V. Consul) and his sister repaired through the 
 damp and rainy streets to the Church of the Holy 
 Sepulchre for the ceremony of Palm Sunday. It 
 was necessary to go thus early on account of the 
 crowd, which was immense. How shall I give you 
 an idea of the thing ? Two separate ceremonies were 
 going on at once ; the Greek and the Latin ; also, in 
 fact, the Armenian, I believe, but they were out of 
 sight. The two (G. and L.) chapels open on each 
 other, each gorgeously lighted with many candles ; 
 a low gate shut out the Greeks from meddling with 
 the Latins. We saw the Latin ceremony, but heard 
 the tam-taming of the Greeks, and smelt their in- 
 
48 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 cense. A Bishop (the Patriarch is at Rome) went 
 in and out of the Sepnlchre-cell, had his hat taken 
 off and put on frequently, chaunted out of a big book, 
 ■^^dth a chorus of a few boys. After this he blessed 
 the palms and presented them to the faithful; any- 
 one who chose to advance to him and kneel received 
 
 one; and our strong-minded female friend (who 
 
 was on the Atlantic with us, and travelling alone, 
 has got herself as far as Jerusalem, ain't it funny!) 
 was among the first to receive one. 'No reason why, 
 you know, she is Eegular Orthodox — but the push- 
 ing kind — and was with our party at the church that 
 day. The only wonder is that she is not now in this 
 tent accompanying us to the Jordan. But I digress. 
 There are several princesses in J. for Easter — 
 these received highly ornamented palms. We have 
 some simple ones, which I hope to get home safely. 
 The prettiest thing was the procession, three times 
 round the Sepulchre. The bishop, the chaunting 
 boys, the priests and monks, the princesses, the trav- 
 ellers, all swept round the big church three times, 
 carrying little candles; but preceded by a company 
 of Turkish soldiers and our friend, the Colonel, who 
 coffeed us the other day, you know. He was lashing 
 round with his Courhash (rhinoceros whip) and 
 keeping the Christians in order. About then the 
 Greeks began to ehullish; having got through their 
 service they naturally did n't want to stay any longer. 
 Besides, though the Latins ovm the spot of the Sepul- 
 chre, the Greeks have a right to a third of it, and to 
 finish their ceremony before it, it required all the 
 Colonel's vigilance and a big bench set across the 
 little door (aided by a stout man who sate do^vn on 
 it inadvertently), to keep the Greeks back till the 
 Latins were through ; I think they were a little slow 
 on purpose. These carefully put out their big can- 
 dles, and the little ones which belonged to them, on 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 49 
 
 the altar. The Greek " Fulliims " were lighting 
 theirs as we came away. ... I haven't given an 
 idea of the immense crowd of spectators of all na- 
 tions who squeezed iis, but we had excellent places, 
 thanks to Finkenstein and Charles's prowess. 
 
 It was n't eight o'clock when we came back to the 
 hotel. The baggage was to be packed to go before 
 us, as we were to start in the p. m. After this Luc. 
 and Charley with Mr. LawTence went to church, but 
 I took to my bed, and got a good sleep. 
 
 Up to this time the weather had been fiendish, like 
 our spring weather; almost all the campers round 
 Jerusalem had been driven to the hotel — in fact, 
 most of their tents blew do^\Ti. But we were all 
 ready to start, and hoped for the best; the sun came 
 out, and Finkenstein said the wind had changed. 
 We got off about three-thirty, and have had lovely 
 weather ever since — cold at first, but now hot. We 
 started all on horses through the Damascus Gate, as 
 thus. First a Bedouin, just like a picture of one in 
 a Geography, his gun across his shoul- 
 ders, then Arthur Lawrence, I, Lu- 
 cretia, Hassan, Charles, and a " mule- 
 teer" (on a horse), carrying lunch, 
 shawls and other trifles. I mention 
 our party in the order we are apt to 
 take according to the fleetness, or I 
 might better say the slowness of our steeds. We 
 started Sunday afternoon to go only a short distance 
 to break the journey of Monday; so after riding about 
 two hours we found ourselves at Solomon's Pools. 
 We saw this old battlemented ruin from the top of 
 a hill, and when we got to it, turning sharp round 
 the comer, found our tents already pitched, and 
 smoke rising from the cook-stove, for you must know 
 that our Gentlemanly Cook, a decayed baron (as we 
 are convinced), engaged for this occasion, goes before 
 
50 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 always with the baggage-train, which consists of 
 three horses, two mules and two donkeys, with four 
 men, I believe ; I don't clearly know. They get mat- 
 ters in readiness by the time we arrive. 
 
 This was the loveliest spot. We gave shouts of 
 joy, and jumped blithely from our horses. A lovely 
 valley with hills notching down towards the horizon, 
 in front three broad square pools — artificial, and 
 "evidently of great antiquity, although not men- 
 tioned in the Old Testament or by Josephus." They 
 think they conveyed water to Jerusalem. Anyhow 
 the moonlight and twilight on the water was deli- 
 cious. But I must tell you it was awful cold, and 
 the ground actually muddy from the recent rains. 
 We pampered Egyptians have felt nothing like it all 
 winter, though you Americans might have called it 
 mild. Arthur Lawrence and I tore back and forth 
 to restore circulation, and in fact succeeded by the 
 time Hassan brought steaming soup into the tent. 
 C. and Arthur L. have one tent which is also salle a 
 manger; Luc. and I share another ; and in the third, 
 which is apple-green in colour, all the cooks and 
 bottle-washers abide. We have excellent feed, six or 
 seven courses, elegantly served in Hassan's best style. 
 As it was too cold to sit up, we forthwith went to 
 bed, and I may say quaked for some time — although 
 we had lots of coverings, and a snifter of brandy and 
 water on retiring. 
 
 Tuesday. — I got up early, as who would not who 
 is camping ? — and made a sketch of the pools which 
 will be found among the Archives. We had coffee, 
 and got started at eight-thirty. Rode all day, stop- 
 ping for lunch by the wayside. Flowers, flowers of 
 the most bewildering nature — three sorts of or- 
 chises! a thing that must be Cistus, or Rhexia — red 
 poppies, and anemones a perfect drug, and cyclamen 
 reeking. We passed Rachel's Tomb, — and the place 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY Lxi^D 51 
 
 where Abraham was called to kill Isaac. Hassan says 
 of it, "Arabs say, Here man, when him asleep, — 
 him get up and tink to kill him little boy." We went 
 a long way off the road to see " The Oak of Abra- 
 ham" where he is supposed to have entertained the 
 Angels. It is very old, — and you can believe what 
 you choose. Looks like the elm on the Common, 
 being "Ilex Quercus," a fine-leaved holly, but im- 
 mense in girth, and spreading widely. We came into 
 Hebron very cold and tired, and Luc. and I didn't 
 go with the men to see the wonders of the town, which 
 are not important, the associations being the chief 
 thing. The Hebronites are now a vile set. They 
 bought mne of Eshcol, made of grapes like that big 
 bunch, you know, and we found it delicious. There 
 were English camping there with whom we hob- 
 nobbed, but I won't write about them I think. So 
 
 Tuesday, we struck our tents, and came back over 
 the same road, for to get to Hebron you go south 
 a day from Jerusalem, then back on the same track 
 to near Bethlehem, for which you diverge. . . . We 
 had a lovely day; it was warmer and the road beau- 
 tiful, looking that way. We lunched by the roadside, 
 inviting an amiable pedestrian to join us at that 
 meal. Rev. Mr. Wight of England. He has been in 
 Boston, and assisted Rev. Eastbum. Arthur Law- 
 rence is very lovely. He is studying to take orders, 
 — he is especially pleasant to travel with here, being 
 unaffectedly enthusiastic about the Scripture asso- 
 ciations. . . . 
 
 We reached Bethlehem early, in time to visit the 
 Church of the Nativity which pleased us very much. 
 The decoration is much simpler, and not so tawdry 
 as at Jerusalem, and how genuine seemed the place 
 he^vn in the rock where Christ was bom, — the 
 Manger — and the spot where the Magi stood. We 
 liked it very much. It is a pity to say so little of 
 
52 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 it here. We were shown lots of other things in the 
 same building, — a church of St. Helena, — but this 
 was all that was very interesting. The town is up 
 an immensely high hill. We climbed up on our 
 horses, and then down paved streets exactly like 
 going downstairs, and wound dovra a long hillside 
 to our camp. Here we rejoiced in the delicious warm 
 weather, and were arrived early enough to bask about 
 before our tents. 
 
 Wednesday. — We came on to Marsaba a brief 
 excursion of three hours. Facing the Dead Sea all 
 the way, and through a country of ghastly barren- 
 ness, crossing a mountain-chain in fact, sometimes 
 very high, sometimes in deep valleys where green 
 fields are growing — everywhere flowers. Our camp 
 is very high, but in a kind of bowl between rugged 
 hills ; the last part of the way was like the most bar- 
 ren parts of Mount Washington; in one place, a 
 ridge between gulfs on either side. Arthur La^vTence 
 joined the Bruces, our English friends, to come by 
 a longer way, seeing " the Frank Mountain." They 
 have not turned up; but their tents are pitched by 
 ours. 
 
 Jerusalem, Saturday a. m., April 11, 1868. 
 
 I stopped the account, dear folks, — 
 
 Wednesday, p. m., at Marsaba, I think. Now we 
 have got back here, but our pack-horses have not ar- 
 rived, so I am WTiting with the brief materials 
 afforded by the hotel. Why brother Hornstein, our 
 worthy host, has only mourning paper, I don't know. 
 I have cut it off the edges, but you '11 find it in the 
 middle. Marsaba was a lurid place, a rocky pass 
 with two stone towers of the convent^ and barren 
 hills humping up everywhere. After I stopped writ- 
 ing I gathered flowers and painted them. Arthur 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 53 
 
 Lawrence came back with the Bruces, and the men 
 went to see the inside of the convent (forbidden to 
 women), while Luc. and I philandered with Mrs. 
 Brnce, who is very pleasant and chatty. She sketches 
 about as much as you do, Edward, in a very pleasant 
 way, and had her tumbler of water and her paint- 
 brush by her side, and was just doing in her sky. 
 It was rather rainy, and after dinner the clouds shut 
 out the moon, which kept trying to come out. We 
 walked to a precipice overlooking the valley, wonder- 
 ful effects of gorge and chasm in the changing lights. 
 Thursday was A Day — to be marked with a white 
 stone. We were up really early and in the saddle 
 by six-thirty ; rode five hours to the shore of the Dead 
 Sea, a narrow path on the side of a gorge, sometimes 
 do"\vn in the bottom of the ravine, sometimes in peril- 
 ous places on a side hill, and finally out, three hours, 
 as in this somewhat crude view, to a splendid view 
 of the upper end of the Dead Sea with the Jordan 
 running into it! and the Mountains of Moab behind. 
 Then we came down into the flattest of valleys, barren 
 and desolate beyond measure, and were tantalised 
 by two hours riding before we reached the shore. 
 But near the water all is lovely, a kind of pink 
 heather grows- in profusion, and willow-tufted shrubs 
 and tall grasses, — and the sea itself a lovely soft 
 blue, plashes on the shore like any New England 
 lake and stretches off between lovely headlands, 
 sparkling and rippling in the sun, far to the south. 
 I don't know where the people are that talk about 
 the Ghastly Exhalations and all that. It was a 
 fearfully blazing hot yv., 
 
 noon (April 9 !). We _^ .M^ /C^ 
 
 sent off the horses ^^— - ■ ^ - 
 
 and had a bath — delicious ! — C. . and Arthur L. 
 at a respectful distance. Luc. didn't venture, but 
 I had a rapturous time. Legs like this in swim- 
 
54 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 ming — and floating on tlie back the perfection of 
 luxury. The water was just cool enough to refresh 
 without chilling, not flat and tame like a fresh- 
 water pond. We were warned to keep it out of 
 mouth and eyes, and succeeded pretty well, but the 
 taste is fearful. Eochelle Powder, potash, salt, mus- 
 tard, rotten-eggs, anything else vile you can think 
 of. After this we had a long and tedious ride over 
 a regular desert, flat barren sand, with the banks of 
 the Jordan very delusive in the distance, green but 
 far. Our two Bedouin escorts darted off on their 
 fleet steeds after a loose horse which they spent all 
 the afternoon in chasing. (It ended by his coming 
 into camp that night, so they made one horse by the 
 trip.) At last we reached the Jordan shore. A fast 
 whirling current with a steep cliff on the opposite 
 side, but on ours, a flat muddy bank, with delicious 
 trees and fresh spring verdure, tall reeds and birds 
 in the branches. Just like a New England stream 
 brawling along. We were tired and very hot ; lunch 
 was refreshing; and naps after. After a suitable 
 
 interval we (all but Luc.) took a bath in the J 
 
 to counteract the Dead Sea, for by this time there 
 was an uncomfortable stinging, sticky sensation, and 
 our lips are actually blistered! The Jordan plunge 
 was delicious — cooler than the sea and cleansing. 
 We had to be very careful about the current which 
 is immensely strong. You mustn't think we were 
 indifferent to its being really the Jordan and no 
 other river. We recalled 
 
 *• So to the Jews old Canaan stood 
 And Jordan rolled between.'' 
 
 Also "When we our wearied limbs to rest," — but 
 found that was the Euphrates instead. 
 
 That night we pressed on, leaving the river, 
 to Riha, which is Jericho, and found our camp 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 55 
 
 pitched by the Brook Cherith, which was not dried 
 up, but babbling merrily, and the frogs ! making a 
 prodigious noise, like any Yankees. We forded the 
 stream, and found our tents with mouths open ready 
 for us; and the Bruces alongside already installed. 
 Tired enough and glad of dinner and bed. Yet we 
 saw the moon over the " Mountain of the Tempta- 
 tion" before we went to sleep. 
 
 Friday was our last day's march. We came by 
 Ain es-Suttan, which is the brook Elisha changed 
 to sweet from bitter; and sweet it is still, and up 
 through a gloomy mountain-pass, reaching Bethany 
 in the afternoon, and at night-fall our camp just 
 below the Garden of Gethsemane at the foot of the 
 Mount of Olives. It was a changing day, hot at first, 
 rain for a while, but on the whole we got very little 
 wetting ; not so many flowers as elsewhere. The path 
 we came is the one Dean Stanley thinks was the 
 triumphal Palm Sunday way. Jerusalem is beauti- 
 ful from that point. Even from our beds in the tent 
 we could see the Beautiful Gate and the wall of the 
 toAvn. I had a jolly gallop ahead with the Bruces. 
 They are brother of Sir Frederick, who died at the 
 Tremont House, — and this one is The Bruce of 
 Scotland, now, whatever that may mean. They are 
 still in their camp outside the Damascus Gate. 
 
 This morning C. and Mr. Lawrence went into town 
 early; Luc. and I followed with Hassan, on our 
 horses; and found our same room ready for us and 
 a cordial greeting from the Hotel Serfs. It seems 
 quite homelike. You may have inferred there was 
 a gap since the beginning, for sitting down to write 
 was " the signal " as Susie Lesley says, for baggage, 
 washing, Charley and everything else to arrive. 
 Since then we have lunched and napped and the 
 gentlemen have been to see the " Greek Fire " at the 
 Holy Sepulchre, which we did n't attempt on account 
 
56 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 of the crush. They have got back after great success 
 with all their limbs and even garments whole; sur- 
 rounded by cawasses they kept a good place, and saw 
 the ceremony. I won't ^v^ite at second-hand, hoping 
 Charley will himself; if not, I can tell when we 
 meet. . . . Seems lots of people are here, camping 
 or otherwise, dear Mr. de Lex, Rev. Mr. Davis, Rev. 
 Lansing, the Charles Amorys ; — all these are our 
 bosom friends. I heard Lord Ruthven sneezing in 
 the next room just now, and Lord and Lady Francis 
 Conyngham have 'No. 10. 
 
 Sunday morning. — Vague and mysterious signs 
 seem to indicate a mail, so I will get this off while 
 Luc. is preparing for church. At da%\Ti I heard all 
 kinds of bells ringing and remembered it was Easter 
 in Jerusalem! . . . 
 
 To Miss Annie Atkinson 
 (Later Mrs. Richaed M. Staigg) 
 
 Jerusalem, Easter, 1868. 
 
 DEAR ANNIE, — I wokc up just at daylight this 
 morning, and heard all kinds of bells ushering in 
 Easter; the streets were full of jabbering Moslems 
 and shuffling footsteps. I thought of you all at 
 home, and wondered who was dressing the church, 
 and remembered the way the lovely flowers smell as 
 we are arranging them. Is it not strange to be here 
 on this day ? Yet there are so many un-Christiau 
 influences, and the so-called Christian ones are so 
 far from our faith, that one might better be in the 
 middle of a desert. But for all that, it is Jerusalem, 
 the very scene with the very hills looking down on 
 it, where Christ " rose from the dead." 
 
 In the afternoon we walked out to Bethany, over 
 the Mount of Olives, and, for ourselves, imagined 
 
TO EGYPT A^B THE HOLY LAND 57 
 
 where might be the spot where the disciple met the 
 Angel who said, " Ye men of Israel," or, " He is 
 not here, but risen," I don't remember just the 
 words. You can't think how real and vivid it makes 
 the whole story to be in the very neighbourhood ; the 
 only wonder is that eighteen hundred years should 
 have passed and left so much as it was then. It 
 might have happened yesterday. We passed a great 
 flock of sheep following their shepherd, chirruping 
 to them and calling them along after him ; " for they 
 know his voice." There are no roads for carts, and 
 no wheeled vehicles at all, only foot-paths with the 
 people straying along by the fig trees and olive trees, 
 and " the lilies of the field." 
 
 April 15. 
 
 I have been interrupted, dear Annie, and now we 
 are all packed and ready for the start (on horses) 
 for Jaffa and back to Alexandria. We have been 
 to Hebron and the Jordan, and bathed in the Dead 
 Sea (it was splendid!), and to Bethlehem and Jeri- 
 cho. There have been plans of going to I^Tazareth 
 and the Sea of Galilee and even to Damascus, but 
 Luc. isn't quite up to so much horse, and though I 
 rather hanker after these places, I 'm delighted to 
 have done so much, and besides I believe it makes 
 us sooner home. 
 
 I got your letter just before this trip. I 'm very 
 glad to hear that Martha's engagement is really out. 
 It strikes me Margy and I don't deserve your praise 
 for our reticence. We were bursting with curiosity 
 all summer, and if we didn't pump you, it must 
 have been on account of your extreme picket-fenci- 
 tude, if you '11 excuse the expression. Give my love 
 to Martha, and tell her I wish her all manner of 
 happiness, and moreover congratulate her on being 
 outside the Schoolmarm Phalanx. 'Now don't re- 
 
58 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 sent this, my dear. It's all very well for you and 
 me, but for these young and fragile blossoms I think 
 highly of the Haven of Matrimony. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 Susie Hale. 
 
 To THE Hale Family 
 
 Alexandria, May 21, 1868. 
 . . . l^ow you know I Ve long wanted to ride a 
 camel, in fact was almost afraid to come home with- 
 out. They said, oh well, I could try it then; and 
 Hassan was directed to " call one of those Bedouins 
 with his camels." So this procession was led up to 
 the front of the piazza. They were coming from 
 carrying a load of stone, — empty. They unhitched 
 this middle one, made him kneel down, and I got 
 up. When he was kneeling, stomach to the ground, 
 it was as high a boost as mounting a donkey. Then 
 the Awful Thing began to undo his legs, and up, np, 
 I went, and found myself flying over the country at 
 a rattling pace, camel-man, Hassan, Vimard, all run- 
 ning to keep up. "Don't go so fast, 'stanne bess- 
 wesh ! " I cried. They slackened up a few minutes, 
 but the beast wanted to go ; I think the man wanted 
 to show him off ; and Hassan wanted to show me off. 
 It was really frightful. The hardest jouncingest old 
 cart-horse you ever were on is a cow to the motion. 
 You know this was a pack-camel, not a trained drome- 
 dary. Besides, they generally have saddles with a 
 pommel. I was sitting with my feet before me on 
 a sort of hurdle. My back hair came down; I had 
 to hold that on, and cling to this rope-work at once. 
 Suddenly, going very fast, the critter swerved round 
 a comer * * * My head came down pretty hard on 
 the sand, and it seemed a good while since I left the 
 top of the camel before I felt a crash like cracking 
 
TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND 59 
 
60 
 
 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 a cocoanut with a hammer. Vimard rushed to lift 
 me — no harm done, no bones broken (but bruised 
 the meat). I was lying supported by V. in a pictur- 
 esque attitude, the camel meekly standing by with 
 two or three breadths of my dress (luckily) hanging 
 to him — and everybody rushing for restoratives. 
 Hassan as pale as the accident of his complexion 
 
 allows. Well, I 'm very glad I 've been to ride on 
 a camel, and I don't care to do it again. But then 
 a regular dromedary would be different. I really 
 wasn't even faint, only stunned rather, and bewil- 
 dered. They all " muched " me, and I was a heroine, 
 and lay on a couch with Cologne and Sherry and all 
 that, not at all in my line. A woman from a neigh- 
 bour was got over to sew up my gown. It took her 
 an hour and a half, — by which time, after after- 
 noon tea and more talk, it was time for us to take 
 the five-thirty return train. ... 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 TEACHING SCHOOL 11^ BOSTON" 
 
 (18Y1-1872) 
 
 To Charles Hale 
 91 BoYLSTON Street, Monday evening, 
 February W, 1871. 
 
 DEAR CHARLEY, — Yoii must know that I have 
 agreed to edit the newspaper of the French Fair, 
 which is to come off here April 10. There will be 
 six daily numbers. Think of my getting into an 
 Editorial chair! I wrote to Emma to put her up 
 to collecting me some trifles of a foreign nature, and 
 I hope you will feel like sending me cuttings from 
 papers not likely to reach here, and that, perhaps, 
 you will write something — with the flavour of your 
 chapters of our ISTile novel, for example. I don't 
 mean to write at all myself if I can help it, that is, 
 to speak of, but to inspire all the distinguished to 
 write. I have just been to see Dan Curtis and Mrs. 
 about it, and they are very cordial, and promise to 
 be as funny as they can. But of course the danger 
 is that all outsiders will leave me in the lurch at the 
 last moment. I enclose a " circular " with particulars. 
 
 Now I want to tell you that the other evening I 
 met your friend Hoiuells for the first time. I have 
 called on Mrs. H. once or twice but always missed 
 her. Hfe has promised me "something" for my 
 newspaper. There is a great upheaving for this fair, 
 and everybody has got a table or an album or a col- 
 
62 LETTEES OF SUSAls^ HALE 
 
 lection of some sort, and theatricals and private con- 
 certs have already been given to swell the proceeds. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 History of a Long Day 
 (For You and Annie) 
 Boston^ Sunday, March 19, 1871. 
 
 This day has been so long that it seems exactly as 
 if there had never been any other day; the annals 
 of my former life are like the evidences of a pre- 
 existent state. I have a general impression of being 
 born of poor but honest parents ; vague reminiscences 
 of a happy childhood, dim recollections after the 
 varied experiences mixed of joy and sorrow, com- 
 mon to any life, of settling down as a respectable 
 spinster into a solitary life; and at this point it is 
 that opens my Tale of To-day. 
 
 The house Avas perfectly tranquil, for it was, — 
 and is ! — Sunday. At quarter of nine I was going 
 upstairs to my bath with the loitering step fitted for 
 a day of utter leisure, when the door-bell rang. 
 Strange sound on Sunday. I pause upon the stairs, 
 with three towels over my arm, and soap and sponge 
 in my hands, " Well, Eebecca ? " 
 
 " A note for you, Marm." 
 
 " Thunder ! " Meanwhile I have been reading the 
 note. It is from Mrs, Hunt, who expects me to be 
 ready, at her house, at ten o'clock to drive to Milton 
 to spend the day. 
 
 Ic is true that something had been said about it 
 ten days ago, but I had clean forgotten; otherwise 
 I should have invented an excuse. But now I am 
 at bay. The day is perfect ; a cloudless sky, a balmy 
 air, and the man waits below. 
 
 " Very well, there is no answer." 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL IN BOSTON 63 
 
 And no hope. I look througli the begrimmed win- 
 dow of the bath-room, but there is no cloud not so 
 big as your hand ; so I must go. 
 
 Which very considerably changes the Programme. 
 There must be a rapid bath, and no soap ; a hurried 
 concoction of coffee, a hasty mastication of sausage, 
 and a hurried donning of one blue and green costume 
 bought upon the Boulevards in 1867. The elbows 
 are through; and there is mud upon the petticoat. 
 But at twenty minutes of ten, I stand at my open 
 front window ; and brush off the mud from the petti- 
 coat while waiting for that car. 
 
 That car (naiurellement) never comes. At five 
 minutes of ten I accept the alternative of pedestrian 
 locomotion, and rush off, after a tender farewell to 
 the cat and ample directions to Rebecca, on foot. 
 
 And I am glad of it, — for at the junction of 
 Clarendon and Commonwealth, voila! Mr. Appleton, 
 with the new dog, whose tail is curled up very tight 
 behind, and whose name is Pop. 
 
 So we walked out together to Mrs. Hunt's. At 
 the Hunt's door he left me, and Mr. Hunt took me 
 up. I need not have hurried or worried. Nothing 
 was ready ; Mr. Hunt, in slippers, came to the door, 
 and Mrs. Hunt was nowhere. Bay came forward, 
 weeping, in her best blue silk, having fallen down 
 in a bed of clay, and expecting a scolding. My ap- 
 pearance averted this otherwise inevitable conse- 
 quence, and she retired to resume the same amuse- 
 ment under a mild reproof. I went to the piano and 
 tried new music; and in the intervals of a cigar, 
 Mr. Hunt came and talked. 
 
 At quarter of eleven, mirabile dictu, we were in 
 the carriage and off. The children were suppressed : 
 i. 6., left at home with Anna. Mr. Hunt drove, mth 
 Miice, in front; Mrs. Hunt and I were behind. . . . 
 We talked, and most pleasantly, and she had a roll 
 
64 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 of old Mss. to read, in order to see if they would 
 do for "Balloon-Post"; and most of them will, 
 admirably. 
 
 We drove roimd by Mrs. Sam Putnam's (some 
 miles out of the way), because Mrs. Hunt had a 
 message for her from Mrs. Julia Howe. While she 
 went in to deliver it, Mr. Hunt rushed the horses 
 up a steep, grassy slope, and through a winding 
 woodland to show me the lovely place, which by the 
 way has just been sold, and Mrs. Putnam and 
 Georgina are coming to town. What a sacrifice! 
 When we got back to the door, nothing would do 
 but that I should alight to see the lovely old house; 
 and after that, we settled down in the dining-room, 
 and were introduced to the eldest Miss Weston (of 
 the Chapman variety). . . . Mrs. Putnam is in- 
 tensely French; she talked and talked well for half 
 an hour on French politics; and we all sate there, 
 rooted, to listen to her, as if that were the object of 
 the expedition, and, in fact, of all life. Finally Wil- 
 liam, desperate, tore us away with an authority he 
 rarely uses; and we were once more on the road 
 again. 
 
 I don't pretend to say what time it was when we 
 arrived at " the Farm," nor to describe the loveli- 
 ness of day and of scene. 
 
 We went at once to the house, and " William " 
 hastily unpacking the dinner baskets seized hunches 
 of cold veal and bread, and rushed off at once to 
 Eeadville to see a horse. Mrs. Hunt and I concluded 
 we were not hungry, and started off to see the place. 
 
 It was a lovely day, perfectly warm and soft; and 
 a perfect delight to wander about and see the points 
 of view, and hear the birds, and pick willow pussies. 
 We invaded the farm-house, and embarrassed the 
 inhabitants, and then came back to the house, and 
 proceeded to get lunch. I took the helm; ordered 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL IX BOSTON 65 
 
 " Mike " to bring hot water, seized the gridiron and 
 broiled the beef-steak on a lovely fire of logs already 
 piled up on the hearth. Mrs. Hunt was delighted, 
 and confessed she needed a guardian. We had nice 
 tea, delicious cream, and fresh eggs; I may add, an 
 admirable steak, though my first. 
 
 Just as we were getting through, Judge Gray ap- 
 peared, on horseback. While he was putting away 
 his horse, we hastily cleared the table, and set it 
 again for him. I never saw a man eat so much. He 
 devoured everything, so that nothing was left for 
 Mr. Hunt. 
 
 By and by Mr. Hunt returned. He took Judge 
 Gray off to smoke, and Mrs. H. carried me to see 
 the upper rooms. Finally I left her at the top of 
 the house immersed in trunks ; and escaped from my 
 keepers found a lovely spot where I lay upon my 
 back under a pine-tree, looked at the blue sky, and 
 heard the birds. It was delicious; perfectly warm 
 in the sunshine. 
 
 Now came the indefatigable hostess, and we started 
 for another tour, passing the gentlemen who smoked 
 in a sunny dell. The idea seized Mrs. H. to go across 
 to the Brush Hill turnpike and call upon one Mr. 
 Foster, who has a conservatory; as we walked she 
 told me his history. It is a good half mile over walls, 
 up and down hill, but very pretty. When we reached 
 the house, Mr. Foster was out ; but we went in and 
 saw the greenhouse ; — in it a wonderful red passion- 
 flower, and our dear pink cyclamen. After this we 
 called on another neighbour, Mrs. Greene, a lovely 
 lady, very handsome, of about sixty summers; and 
 here we fell into a long discussion of Heaven and the 
 future state, which was really interesting, but so 
 oddly placed. By this time, I began to feel like one 
 who dreamed. 
 
 Tearing ourselves away we climbed again the hills 
 
66 LETTEES OF SUSAN" KALE 
 
 towards home; and were by and by met by a little 
 boy who said that Misses Margaret and Fanny Forbes 
 were waiting for ns at the house. No explanation 
 of this boy has ever been offered; but I felt quite 
 intimate with him by the time we got back. 
 
 I am always delighted with these ladies ; we went 
 into the house to entertain them, and I talked, for 
 about this time Mrs. Hunt became distraite. " Wil- 
 liam " came in ravenous, and the man from the barn 
 brought him up a huge slice of rare beef, laid, sand- 
 wich fashion, on a slice of bread, which he devoured ; 
 and talked. 
 
 Misses Forbes urged us to come to their house, es- 
 pecially as they wanted me to see all Fanny Cunning- 
 ham's sketches of which they have possession for a 
 few days. At last Mrs. Hunt said, " Well, you take 
 Susie home with you, and William and I will come 
 by and by." 
 
 Thus I found myself transferred to the back seat 
 of the Forbes Chariot, "the boy" being left with 
 the Hunts as a kind of hostage. We talked, heaven 
 knows what, things brilliant, let us hope ; and by and 
 by arrived at their dear house. Here I was permitted 
 warm water and a comb and brush, and pulled to- 
 gether as well as I could the holes in my elbows. 
 Miss Fanny and I walked well over this place, and 
 then I looked at a lot of sketches, all delightful, by 
 Mrs. Edw. Cunningham, taken chiefly in Mongolia! 
 and Japan. 
 
 By this, the sun had begun to set; a thing I had 
 ceased to believe possible to it, and we watched its 
 gorgeous departure, while I told them about Bret 
 Harte. 
 
 The Himts arrived. We had a sweet tea of ex- 
 quisite materials, with a napkin across the loaf. 
 Then came prolonged partings; and we found our- 
 selves in the carriage. It was dark, and one of the 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL m BOSTOX 67 
 
 near hills was brilliant with a conflagration of burn- 
 ing brush. 
 
 Mrs. Hunt now roused up to delightful eloquence. 
 We talked steadily all the way to town, and she was 
 really enchanting. 
 
 We stopped at their house, for the horses ( !) were 
 tired. We went upstairs. The servants were warned 
 to inform us when a car came; it was not long, and 
 sweet Mr. Hunt hurried me into it. 
 
 " How soon do you start ? " " Eleven min- 
 utes." . . . 
 
 Here I am, and here's the cat, and nothing has 
 happened. I 've lighted the fire and fed Sir Charles, 
 and WTitten you this ; and now for the first time am 
 prepared to mention the time. 'Tis ten o'clock — 
 just twelve hours since the start. 
 
 To ChaeI/ES Hale 
 
 91 BoYLSTON Street, March 26, 1871. 
 DEAR CHARLEY, — I have just got youF splendidly 
 co-operative letter about " Balloon-Post " and hasten 
 to thank you. I hope " things " are on the way from 
 you, and feel abject that I haven't written oftener 
 to keep your fire bright. It would be too bad, were 
 it not that I am so intensely busy with the paper and 
 its involutions, though 't is very good fun. People 
 are most flattering about my undertaking it, and sub- 
 scribers pour in for the whole set, and lots of writers 
 have been most cordial in contributing, so really I 
 think it will be good. I shall take pride in mailing 
 you the numbers, and long to hear your comments. 
 I set to work by writing to, or attacking personally 
 all the people in the world I could think of, either 
 distinguished or otherwise, who would write well; 
 the results are constant arrivals of articles ; some, of 
 course, very poor, but some, very nice. Luc. is writ- 
 
68 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 ing a series of imitations of Charles Eeade and other 
 authors, which will be very nice.^ The " Charles 
 Eeade" is delicious; I shall put it in the first 
 number. 
 
 The bother of all such things is the side issues, 
 which you never think of beforehand. First there 
 was a row because the Latin-School boys wanted to 
 edit the paper; and then wanted to have one of their 
 own besides. The committee very properly sup- 
 pressed this; but the boys had to be interviewed. 
 Then there was a fearful time about the head of 
 Louis !Napoleon which perhaps you noticed in the 
 Daily. But the worst was in the Transcript ; a fool- 
 ish report got about that "Balloon-Post" was an 
 Imperialistic organ! and such a tempest in the tea- 
 pot arose! I had to fly round and ^^Tite things for 
 Daily and Transcript, and contradict and deny till 
 I was most dead. People have not yet done saying, 
 "Miss Hale, is it true that you mean to have Louis 
 ISTapoleon," etc., etc. I got pretty mad about that. 
 Then, now, there has been a good deal of light skir- 
 mishing about my stall at the fair. Of course I must 
 have a place there to sell the paper; and an impres- 
 sion has obtained that it will be a very pleasant ren- 
 dezvous, quite a feature of the fair. Mrs. Wm. Hunt 
 is to help me, and Mrs. Brooks and various attractive 
 people. Wow your friend, Charley Loring, is the 
 man who arranges all the tables, etc., on the floor. 
 How did you like him in Egypt, by the way? He 
 appears to me as obstinate as a mule; and having a 
 fixed idea about my table which only gave room for 
 two people, he held to it persistently. I was per- 
 fectly meek, and yielded gracefully, when lo ! he came 
 round, and, somewhat gloomily, has given me the 
 very best place in the middle of the theatre, where 
 everybody must pass, going to and fro ; and all will 
 be likely to pay toll in the shape of buying a number 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL IN BOSTON 69 
 
 of " Balloon-Post." All this takes a huge amount of 
 talking and writing. Oh ! and I forgot the time I 
 had about the vignette at the top ; getting Wm. Hunt 
 to design it, and Mr. Anthony to engrave it, which 
 Mr. Anthony said he would first, and afterwards 
 A\Tote a civil note, and said he would n't. He is the 
 head wood engraver of the Fields and Osgood firm, 
 and I flew at once to their shop, " interviewed " Mr. 
 Osgood to such effect, that he remonstrated with the 
 recusant Anthony, and brought him to terms. That 
 was a great piece of prowess. 
 
 The other evening I met Mr. R. W. Emerson, and 
 he promised me an original little poem. Won't that 
 be nice? Bret Harte promised me something, but 
 it don't yet turn up. However, there is yet a good 
 deal of time. 
 
 In all these trials J. Davis is very devoted, and an 
 admirable adviser. Charley Chase will only arrive 
 on the scene the week of the fair ; but he is so reliable 
 that we can rest calm in his behalf. 
 
 You see I am quite absorbed in my paper, but I 
 know you'll be interested. I wish you were going 
 to be here ; for although I shall be tired and doggled 
 I expect to have a good deal of fun out of it. 
 
 I hankered a little after the Novel of the Nile for 
 my paper; but it is really so long and so impossible 
 to abstract or condense, I think I won't try. People 
 will rather expect something oriental of me, but I 
 have really written nothing myself for the paper, I 've 
 been so busy with these other details. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
70 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Charles Hale 
 
 91 BoYLSTON Street, Friday evening, 
 May 19, 1871. 
 DEAR CHARLEY, — I havG volumcs to wi'ite to you, 
 but no time and backbone since the fair, which pretty 
 nearly used me uj), and I took to my bed after it at 
 such intervals as I could. I 'm delighted you are 
 pleased with " B.-P.," and long to hear your separate 
 comments. Your first expression " ^ Balloon-Post ' is 
 superb," was balm to my soul. Are not Lucre tia's 
 things capital ? It was tremendous work, and I had 
 to be very sharp about it, for you see, in addition to 
 the editing, there was the selling, do\vn at the fair; 
 and all the threads in my hands; people pestering 
 with their articles ; subscribers complaining that they 
 didn't get their papers, and so on. But Charley 
 Chase was splendid. What a cormorant a daily 
 paper is! It gobbled up all the stuff I had, though 
 I thought I had enough for a month. One reason 
 was that the " Committee " on advertisements rather 
 flashed in the pan, so that we didn't have half what 
 we ought to, to pay, but that made the reading all the 
 better. C. Chase went to Worcester every night : and 
 every morning alighting at the '^ Know ISTothing " 
 station down, here on Dartmouth Street, stopped here 
 at nine o'clock for a conference. I rose daily betimes 
 to write my leader, and had it ready for him ; I could 
 tell by a grim smile on his face Avhether he approved 
 of my flights. Then I gave him all the pabulum I 
 had for the evening number ; this was pretty much all 
 collected before the week began, subject to altera- 
 tions and new arrivals of stuff. Then he caiTied off 
 all this, and repaired to the printing-office. Thus you 
 see that he had all the charge of arranging the order 
 of articles ; and, indeed, in some respects, did n't 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL IN BOSTON 71 
 
 exactly carry out my views; but this of course was 
 to be expected. Meantime I got through school, and 
 as soon as might be, repaired to the fair where my 
 affairs were attended to by five other ladies and my- 
 self. At about four-thirty or thereabouts, C. Chase 
 would turn up at the fair to announce that the num- 
 ber was all right; and at six, grimy little office boys 
 rushed in with great bundles of the fresh number, 
 eagerly pounced on by people waiting round tiU it 
 should come, and by our little news-boys (Arthur, 
 Johnny Homans, etc.), who seized them to sell about 
 the Hall. It was very popular and quite the success 
 of the fair, for everybody had to have it, of course, 
 good or bad ; and then everybody took it for granted 
 't would be good. Ah ! 't was a great heik ! and glad 
 was I, and nearly dead, too, when 'twas over. 
 
 Now what do you think ? The success of '' B.-P." 
 made such an eclat that Button of the Transcript has 
 engaged me to write for Trannyl! at $1,000 per 
 annum — what do you think ? I 'm most afraid to 
 tell you ! I begin June 1, and the agreement is only 
 for six months at first, to see how it works. Lor! 
 what shall I write about? As yet, I have not one 
 idea! Think of my . . . well, I was going to use 
 a homely but forcible phrase, but I guess I won't as 
 you might be shocked. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucbetia Hale 
 
 Tuesday noon, October 10, 1871. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — Let the recess be long, and the fiends 
 remain long absent, for I have much to say. . . . 
 
 You did the right thing in going up. The 
 trees must be gorgeous, and I envy you some out- 
 doors possibilities. I must put in. Is it not dread- 
 ful about Chicago? What a pall hangs over our 
 
72 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 thoughts remembering that perhaps it is always 
 going on. . . . 
 
 Well, my dear, last night I went to the opera!! 
 with the faithful Jamie Davis, and had such a time 
 as we had seeing "Martha" in Paris. Nilsson is 
 just Marguerite as invented by Goethe, and drawn 
 by Retzch. Singing, action perfect, and Capoul . . . 
 Not so lovely to look at as Mario, but very adorable, 
 and the taste would grow, like olives. They did it 
 so well that it was very painful, and I have to-day 
 the lowness of spirits one would feel after hearing 
 the real facts of an affair like that. The Mephis- 
 topheles was altogether too good. Gorgeous house. 
 C. and H. H. swelling round in full dress. I can't 
 get used to the modem expanse of shirt-bosom. This 
 is the impression received from a man nowadays. 
 Shirt, et praeterea nihil. . . . 
 
 Yrs., 
 S. 
 
 To Miss Lucketia Hale 
 
 Monday morning ^ 1872. 
 
 Happy New Year ! 
 
 . . . Think of my being dravm in again to do 
 jinks at the Women's Club with Mrs. Howe! She 
 came and was so sweet. I do love her as always. I 
 dined at her house Friday to talk it over — such a 
 scattery dinner ! and Saturday p. m. we had it. . . . 
 
 But what I was got for was to do the Devil in 
 "Punch and Judy." Mrs. Howe's idea was good — 
 to be herself Punch, Mrs. Cheney, Judy. They had 
 a baby, of pillow, which they threw over into the 
 audience, and they had written out a dialogue bear- 
 ing on the times. You know, Woman's Rights and 
 all that, which was rather clever. Mrs. Howe looked 
 just like Punch, with a hump, and I rouged the end 
 of her nose a little; . . . After Judy was killed, I 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL IN BOSTON" Y3 
 
 came up, and we had (Puncli and I) an aesthetic 
 talk about the underAvorld, planned bj her, which 
 was rather funny, with references to Dr. Hedge, 
 Abbot, O. B. Frothingham, etc. ; but I want to de- 
 scribe my get-up, which was superb, studied after the 
 Mephisto of Faust. Your bashlik, the point made 
 to stand up, fastened closely round face; two red 
 sugar-plum horns pinned on for horns; my red- 
 flannel shirt put on over gown ; lots of rouge, and eye- 
 brows corked as in sketch. I kept dancing up and 
 down with upraised arms ; they said I looked very 
 handsome; guess I did. . . . The performance 
 closed, as it generally now does, with " Coming 
 through the Rye," by me. . . . 
 
 Yrs., 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia Hale 
 
 Eecess, Tuesday, January 9, 1872. 
 
 DEAR LTJC, — I have just been digesting your splen- 
 did long letter; and, though 'tis madness to begin 
 with the children expected back all the time, must 
 seize the afflatus of the moment. . . . 
 
 I think the new "Alice" is hetter than the old. 
 Of course the tendency is to think it is not ; but the 
 fact that the idea don't come freshly on us makes 
 it necessary for it to be better in order to be good 
 at all. The first rose must have driven the first 
 smeller perfectly wild, but every rose since has smelt 
 just as well. Excuse floweriness. But the back- 
 wards conception, — the going the other way when 
 you want to get there, — the Knights checking each 
 other, are higher flights than anything in the first, 
 and pictures are more and lovelier; I think it is 
 splendid. . . . The more I read the new "Alice," 
 the better I like it. That picture, the two pictures 
 of shaking the Red Queen into the Kitten are heav- 
 
74 LETTERS OF SUSA^^ HALE 
 
 enly. I think the fight between the Knights is per- 
 fectly enchanting, with the picture, and that account 
 of the White Knight's Horse. " There were not 
 likely to Be Mice, but if there were he did n't choose 
 to have them running about." Oh! I feel so, read- 
 ing that book. How lovely to meet again the Haiglia 
 in his new form. What could be better than the 
 conversation with Humpty-Dumpty ? The cravat that 
 might be a Belt. I begin to think it is far superior 
 to the . . . 
 
 My dear, yesterday p. m. I staggered out, cold and 
 all, to attend dear Dr. Hedge at King's Chapel, and 
 oddly enough sate cheek by jowl with Almira Dewey 
 in a strange pewey. Dr. H. very interesting, but 
 made me feel bad because I can't go yvith. him in his 
 unfaith in the Miracles. It was about what he calls 
 the "Myths" of the G-ospel, and J. T. S., A. and 
 Miss S., in a pew before me, kept grinning at each 
 other like demons rejoicing in gaining a Mind. But 
 afterwards I met the dear boy, and he came here 
 and made me a sweet visit, conversing pleasantly 
 with Cats, who sported Avith that Runx^ and came 
 out quite well. . . . 
 
 To Miss Maky B. Dinsmoor 
 
 Boston, January 16, 1872. 
 DEAR MARY, — Eorgive me, if I grow more and 
 more to contemplate you and Annie and Lucretia 
 as a remote and indistinct mass of l^ebulous Matter 
 constantly demanding food for reflection from the 
 Source of Light and Heat. Lucretia retains a sort 
 of separate individuality, to be sure, by virtue of her 
 sororal relations, but as far as life is concerned, I 
 hurl my missiles indiscriminately. As you wrote 
 recently, I will aim this at you. Might begin by 
 
 ' Word for I'nole in the Cat language. 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL IN BOSTON 75 
 
 thanking you for the account of your Brain Ball; 
 of course I was dying to hear all about it, it must 
 have been capital. Required a good deal of nerve 
 to do a thing which was all in the execution, and 
 could be nothing in the preparation; but that's the 
 sort our sort likes. 
 
 Now, in this to^^n, you have to putter over a thing, 
 even the slightest, a month. The powers that evolved 
 the cabbage apple-pie in the. morning, and executed 
 it in the evening, are here unknown quantities. 
 
 So for a fortnight, we have been talking and pre- 
 paring for Lizzie Homans' Brain Club ; and it came 
 oif last night. 
 
 It is over — it has rattled itself off like a horse- 
 car on time, as irrevocably and irretrap-ably (ad- 
 mire this word coined for the exigencies of Horse- 
 car-ity). I am now about to tell you about it. 
 You U swoon at how elaborate it was, and yet spite 
 of my recent remarks, elaboration tells ; particu- 
 larly on the average mind. 
 
 We did " The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman " 
 (and several people asked afterwards if one of us 
 (and which one!) wrote it on purpose for this occa- 
 sion!). If you remember the original footnotes at 
 the end are very funny^ so we introduced them. 
 Dodge played on the piano. Dr. Jolin Homans sang ; 
 when they came to a note the music stopped, and 
 Mrs. Julia Howe, draped like a Greek chorus, with 
 a laurel wreath (made by me) on her brow, read it. 
 At the end she blew a whistle, and the Song was 
 resumed. H. Wild was Lord Bateman, in a black 
 curling wig, trunk hose, and red tights. Jerry Abbot 
 was the proud young porter, and I, even I, was 
 Sophia. We had no scenery, only accessories set on 
 and off the stage by supes, as they were wanted. 
 In the beginning, where Lord Bateman enters, we 
 had a little ship in a glass case, which wound up 
 
76 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 and pitched and tossed. It is now time to remark 
 that I was simply lovely, got up with every Eastern 
 allure that native experience could suggest, and bor- 
 rowed opulence, provide. I had a regular stuffed tur- 
 ban — to look the conventional oriental, not the real 
 — with a lovely sparkling thing in front. I braided 
 my hair at the sides, painted my eyebrows a little 
 blacker, and tipped the outer corners of my eyes. 
 Rouge, of course. Then I had full trousers made 
 of Lizzie's old yellow silk. A sort of apron before, 
 and one behind, of that purple and gold broad scarf 
 I brought home. My gold belt, very small at the 
 waist; an Eastern sleeveless jacket of black, red and 
 gold, with full white muslin sleeves to the elbow; 
 throat open, and white waist showing below the 
 jacket; endless necklaces and chains and bracelets 
 and beads. Lord Bateman presented me, the day 
 before, with a sparkling brooch (price 25 cents prob- 
 ably at Salom's) and the proud young porter sent 
 me two necklaces of gold and pearl beads. I had 
 white shoes embroidered with gold. The effect of 
 the foot is infinitely becoming, for the trouser droops 
 behind and relieves the ankle in front. Well, we 
 had big keys and chains, and wine and all that, 
 and the parting of B. and S. was very good. Re- 
 member that Boston has not seen any Ballad, ex- 
 cept " Lochinvar " two years ago by the same Corps 
 Dramatique. 
 
 At " Seven long years were past and gone," Sophia 
 comes in very weary with carpet-bag and Arab 
 blanket — Eastern bashlik over other costume. Looks 
 at numbers till finds Lord Bateman's, rings loud 
 bell. Jerry Abbot, in a false nose with a huge 
 bouquet at button-hole, appears. I ask if Lord Bate- 
 man is within, you know, he replies, " Yes," and my 
 countenance assumes raptures. He goes on, " He 's 
 just now taking his young bride in." My face 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL IN BOSTON" 77 
 
 changes — I fall in a rigid swoon on his arm. 
 Pause in the singing, and Dodge played minor sev- 
 enths for a few pathetic 
 moments, till I came to. 
 This was my great coup. 
 
 EllenFrothingham and 
 youngest Bumham were 
 bride's mother and bride. 
 H. Wild had a splendid 
 great sword which he 
 broke in three. The 
 bride and b.'s mother are 
 led off by porter. Then 
 Dodge played the Lovers' 
 music from " Faust," and 
 H. Wild did a scene by 
 himself, full of senti- 
 mental emotion at the thought of seeing Sophia. 
 Jerry leads me in, we rush forward and are lost at 
 the footlights in a wild embrace. . . . 
 
 Pas de trois, by Lord B., Sophia and the porter. 
 Pas seul, by Sophia, regular ballet style. Ditto, by 
 Lord B. with castanets ; ditto, comic, by porter. I 
 get up on footstool, they support, and — Curtain. 
 
 You must fancy the pauses for the solemn reading 
 of the notes in Sister Howe's musical monotone. 
 
 They thought it was awfully funny. Mary 
 Dorr thinks, " On the whole it was the funniest 
 thing which has ever been done in Boston." This 
 is strong as we can't answer for the Pilgrim 
 Fathers, for who knows what they may have done for 
 larks ? 
 
 That sweet dear boy, Nat. Childs (who was Juliette 
 to Ned Bowditch's Romeo), began the evening by 
 reciting a touching Irish narrative, called " Shamus 
 O'Brien." I dare say you 've read it. And after 
 the Ballad, with his face blacked for a darky, he did 
 
T8 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 a "■ Song and Dance," Uvo, in fact. Lovely tenor 
 songs with double shuffle, etc., between. He did it 
 exquisitely. He is as graceful as a fawn ; and Lizzie 
 dotes on that sport ; but I hate the niggeryness of it, 
 and was sorry I had allowed it, as of course he did 
 it to please me. But it was good, as being discipline 
 for the club, who didn't quite know what to make 
 of it. 
 
 Meanwhile I came out, got my compliments, and 
 lor, what a fuss they made about my looks, — all 
 so surprised I could look so well. The dress got 
 praised as being so genuinely Eastern, which was 
 rather strong, as the turban was an anomaly, which 
 Ayuslia would have repudiated, and the trousers were 
 Lizzie's old gown; but no matter, I got to believe 
 I really looked Eastern, and I did. The whole effect 
 was just like those critters at Assiout. Charles and 
 Edward and Emily were there ; Dr. Hedge and 
 Carrie ; Dr. Shurtleff and Annie Bursley ; the Guilds. 
 Quite a crowd of my particulars, not to mention Mr. 
 Appleton, J. Davis, and more modem admirers. We 
 stayed to sit-do^vn champagne and duck supper. So 
 did Charley. We were quite jolly. 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss Lucketia Hale 
 
 Tuesday Morgen, Jan. £3, 1872. 
 DEAE LUCEETiA, — . . . You will obscrve that 
 the flesh is weak. The reason is that last evening 
 I attended our German Club at Clover Hooper's. 
 My dear, it was great fun, but intensely exhausting. 
 Twenty-four members, male and female, and nothing 
 but German talked. Mr. Siedhof present, but not 
 presiding ; no method, only conversation, with a brief 
 interval of " put in a word." Almost all, really, talk 
 more than I, which is not saying much; but almost 
 
TEACHi:^G SCHOOL IX BOSTON 7<J 
 
 all have lived two or three years in Germany, and 
 speak fluently — like my French — with a good 
 sprinkling of " Zo! " and ^' gans genug " and all that, 
 though even I could perceive their verbs disagreeing 
 with their subjects, and their adjectives quite adverse 
 from their nouns. Still I think it quite a remarkable 
 Gesellschaft. . . . 
 
 But the strain on the brain! Exactly, my dear, 
 which you can comprehend alone, the depleted state 
 we were in after the Barthow spree at Aix. The 
 listening so hard to verstehen was more fatiguing 
 than the replies. We had a nice supper, sitting 
 round, but still in German. Oh! I was so limp 
 when it was over I could hardly get home, and fell 
 upon the pillow in a kind of syncope. 
 
 Our Nieberg Class meets to-day at two. I 'm sure 
 on my tomb will not long hence be read : 
 
 " She is dead, 
 
 but she understands German. 
 
 Her last words were 
 
 Auf wiedersehen ! " (In script.) 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia Hale 
 
 Thursday morning. May 2, 1872. 
 
 {These months have different names, hut are 
 
 all just alihe, cold and raw and rheumatizzy.) 
 
 DEAR LUC, — ... Yesterday p. m. I had a great 
 tooth dragged out, and staggered home to bed at 
 seven o'clock, whence I have just risen, toothless and 
 painless, but with a tendency to swoon imless propped 
 up against something. Of course the tooth had been 
 aching fiercely for twenty-four hours previous. It 
 is now to be hoped that that particular tooth will dis- 
 appear from the pages of history, or, at least, of my 
 
80 LETTERS OF SUSAK HALE 
 
 biography. Mines of Golconda, forests of India rub- 
 ber, miles of gutta-percha have been snnk in it. The 
 talent of Hitchcock and a thousand pre^dous dentists 
 have spent themselves upon that tooth ever since I 
 first opened mj mouth before the operating-chair. 
 Yet whenever there was a March wind, and I was 
 particularly unfitted to encounter a face-ache, it 
 began. It was at last totally useless — and came 
 out finally in three pieces, with a good deal of 
 yanking. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Charles Hale 
 
 Saturday morning, May 11, 1872. 
 
 DEAR CHARLEY, — . . . iN'ow, my dear, you ask 
 me about my plans, and I am about to spring them 
 on you, so get your salt-bottle and prepare to hear 
 amazing things. 
 
 I 've got to give up my rooms here ! ! Dr. Leach's 
 lease is up. He leaves. House gutted, changed to 
 big boarding-house. I not wanted. jSTow this breaks 
 up my class a good deal as that depends upon local- 
 ity. It is odious to hunt up rooms. I am relieved 
 July 1, of course, from paying rent. . . . 
 
 I think of spending a year in Germany ! ! ! 
 
 My idea is to go out say September 15. Not travel 
 at all. Spend the winter in some cheap tovra. (Stutt- 
 gart is suggested, for reasons), and take lessons in 
 water-colours. Come back, September, 1873, and 
 give lessons in water-colours, on the strength of the 
 skill and prestige I have acquired. Now don't you 
 think it is a good plan ? Everybody does to whom I 
 have mentioned it. I should spend next summer in 
 some picturesque place (south of France), where I 
 could make good sketches to show when I got home. 
 ... I have told Edward, and he approves. . . . 
 
TEACHING SCHOOL IN BOSTON 81 
 
 So if you see any let or hindrance speak now, or 
 forever after hold your peace — for I am amenable 
 to kind treatment — and, if any better plan can be 
 suggested for my immediate future, am willing to 
 adopt it. I think there is no doubt I can live on six 
 hundred dollars, or less, at Stuttgart, say, and I have 
 enough besides to pay my passage both ways. I 
 should think I could, and I should like it, correspond 
 for some newspaper, and tell how many francs it 
 costs to have garlic in your washing, which would be 
 lucrative. I should n't wonder also if I fell in with 
 some lucrative occupation there ; at any rate, the rest 
 and variety would set me up immensely. 
 
 Write your views. . . . 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Studying art in Europe — Accompanied by the 
 Misses Bursley and Miss Harriet James, after- 
 wards Mrs. John C. Bancroft. 
 
 (1872-1873) 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. H'ale 
 
 Paris, Hotel Liverpool, rue Castiglione, 
 October 1, 1872. 
 
 DEAR LUCEETiA, — Yolumes, of coui'se, aud no true 
 place to bes^in. So busy in London, and so tired 
 at night that it was impossible to write, so my nar- 
 rative is far behindhand. 
 
 To-day, I have your letter. What rapture — but 
 the first from you I did not get, in London, pish ! 
 though Baring had continual hot drafts at his 
 feet. . . . 
 
 I keep thinking of so many little side-things to tell 
 you, that I think I must devote this sheet to them, 
 and begin my regular narrative on another, although 
 I long to record all of our interesting sight-seeing in 
 London. 
 
 But think, my dear, of my actually being here in 
 sweet Paris. I do love it, so much more than Lon- 
 don, and feel so much more at home with the sweet 
 French than with the English, whose cockney con- 
 versation I really could not make out so well as this 
 French. My hair, however, is now dressed upon a 
 true English model, which I shall adhere to till I 
 have sufficiently studied the French one to go into 
 that. . . . 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 83 
 
 Narrative {of London) 
 
 T believe I left off last Wednesday p. m. What 
 ages ago it seems ! . . . 
 
 Thursday after breakfast Annie and I started off 
 to find B. F. Stevens, 17 Henrietta Street, Covent 
 Garden, W. C, that address burnt in upon my 
 brain and stamped upon all my memorandum books, 
 through directing thither things for Charles. Imag- 
 ine my feelings at seeing the familiar words staring 
 at me from the corner of a house, and very near 
 Stevens's sign. 
 
 Stevens proved to be a love, as you will see by the 
 Sequel. He kept reminding me of J. Aug. Johnson, 
 — a little, in his appearance, but chiefly, in his ex- 
 tremely cordial way of making us have a good time. 
 He asked our plans at once, took right hold and 
 thought up what we had better do and see, and laid 
 out a programme for all the rest of our time in Lon- 
 don, part of which he proposed to share himself. It 
 was very nice, and Annie and I came home in great 
 elation ; but first he walked mth us through Covent 
 Garden Market, an enchanting place full of flowers 
 and fruit, and such a variety of vegetables unknown 
 to us, as to make one for the first time understand 
 the Institution of "Green Grocers." I bought a 
 little bunch of sweet English violets for twopence, 
 and a bag full of plums and grapes for nothing at 
 all to speak of ; and Annie bought shrimps, which we 
 afterwards got the maid to show us how to eat, which 
 she did, through opening them with a pin, and break- 
 ing off some of their legs and biting off others. Very 
 good. . . . Westminster Abbey interesting, but rather 
 in the Louvre line ; a delicious guide, in a black gown, 
 as if he were a minister, who showed everything in 
 the richest cockney, which I shall imitate for a Brain 
 Club. Don't tell, but aU abbeys are just alike (I 
 
84 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 have seen two). However, the English History is in- 
 tensely interesting, and Carrie and I, especially, are 
 constantly looking up all the points and reminding 
 each other of them. It is interesting to stand by the 
 Tomb of Edward the Confessor, also to see Mary 
 Queen of Scots and Elizabeth really lying on their 
 backs in the same building, with nothing but a chapel 
 between. 
 
 But I should like to take these things on full gal- 
 lop, instead of dawdling along gaping at them. I 
 get fearfully tired, and a very little Abbey goes a 
 long way with me. ... In the evening I went with 
 Mr. Stevens to Covent Garden Theatre. Saw a deli- 
 cious fairy-piece by Boucicault. All the others 
 backed out, which was unwise, for I had a splendid 
 time. Stage changing all the time, like that thing 
 we saw in Paris. Only the English are so English, 
 and even the fairies had their front-hair spatted down 
 as mine is at present. 
 
 Friday, we had such a good day. Mr. Stevens met 
 us in the coffee-room and we went to the river, di- 
 rectly behind our hotel, where we took a penny boat 
 (steam) down the Thames to London Bridge. A 
 foggy, murky day — the towers of St. Paul's dim 
 and vague against the Yellow Cotton Wool, called sky 
 by the ignorant English; passed Somerset House; 
 saw water-men, evidently from Dickens, fishing for 
 dead bodies and the like. We landed at London 
 Bridge and went through odd, crooked streets, all 
 with histories and associations we recognised, pointed 
 out by Stevens. Through Billingsgate Market, where 
 every kind of fish was lying, where the smell was not 
 of roses, and roughs yelled at each other, and a man 
 poked at Carrie with an old fish-knife. So we came 
 to the Tower, where an old beef -eater took us in 
 custody, and expounded matters. (See "Murray's 
 Guide.") The historical places are very interesting, 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 85 
 
 and many make your blood run cold. To see the 
 "Water-Gate and the Traitor's Gate ! — and the 
 very spot where Ann Boleyn had her head cut off. 
 We think English children have immense advantages 
 for learning these things, and envy the governesses 
 who can point their morals by taking pupils to the 
 spot. But they take delight at all these places in con- 
 cealing the most interesting points, and showing ever- 
 lastingly stupid things. At the Tower some idiot 
 has taken all the old bits of swords and firearms left 
 over after fights, and made them into sort of worsted- 
 patterns, flowers and things on the wall ; and you get 
 fearfully tired of them, but the guide is so fond of 
 them, that he lingers over them far more than 
 " Jane," cut in the wall of his prison, by Lord Guild- 
 ford Dudley! 
 
 There was a truly grey cat out in the yard, and a 
 raven that I liked about as well as anything, and 
 ivy on the walls, and the air was very sweet and 
 sunny in the old courtyard. Mr. Stevens left us at 
 the Moorsgate Street Station of the underground 
 railway — and off we went through timnels and 
 worms-eye ways to Gower Street, where we got out 
 and walked do^\Ti a long street to the British Museum. 
 Terrible great place. Impossible, of course, to do 
 it justice. The thing, for me, my dear, of course, 
 was to see the tablet of Abydos on the wall, like a 
 piece of the Puzzle Map, lost alas ! to the dear Egyp- 
 tians. There it was — and the "Murray" says, 
 " This is of but trifling interest to any but the archse- 
 ologist." I liked it. Lots of Ramses there. It made 
 me mad to see them uprooted from their natural soil, 
 which becomes them so much better than this British 
 Roof. Elgin Marbles : very much knocked to pieces, 
 and, of course, modem to us. The books one could 
 do nothing about in one glimpse like that. I thought 
 of Edward revelling there day after day. 
 
8G LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Annie and I sent the other girls home by a short- 
 cut carefully explained to them on the Map, — and 
 we took a long course up Oxford Street and home 
 by Eegent Street and Pall Mall. This was about 
 the only chance I had to shop. We went to Eowney's, 
 
 — delicious ! — and I bought two squeeze tubes. 
 Winsor and Newton's was too far off; but Kowney 
 is meme chose; there were water-colours there, and 
 every mouth-watering material of Art. Paint-box 
 like mine, such as Maud hankers for, for about $8,00. 
 Home late and shrechlich tired and footsore, and to 
 bed at eight o'clock. 
 
 Saturday, I went round by Stevens's to leave the 
 little parcel for you and Charlie. Carrie was with 
 me, and then we walked down to Prout's, Strand, 
 where we met the other girls, and all went to St. 
 Paul's. A service was going on, and we heard a 
 choir of boys intone the creed and things. Very high, 
 as also was the Whispering Gallery, which we after- 
 wards visited. Then we went out to the Crystal 
 Palace, where we had a high old frolic. It is such 
 a gay place. Saturday is the popular day, and chil- 
 dren were rushing about blowing tin trumpets, eating 
 buns. It reminded me of the Exhibition, Lucretia, 
 because we did the same way — ate things at a res- 
 taurant; heard two concerts, lead by Hullah; were 
 weighed in a kind of chair (I weighed 1381/2 ; gained 
 half a pound!); saw the picture-gallery, aquarium, 
 tree-ferns; bought nougat, wandered in the grounds 
 
 — got to the Low-Level Station and found our re- 
 turn tickets were High-Level, and had to go miles 
 back again. All this, railway tickets included, for 
 2s. ! — except what we ate. 
 
 We came back to Victoria Station. ... I took 
 cab and hurried home, dressed and got to dine at the 
 Rodman's at six-thirty. Very cosy little dinner with 
 much chat; they had tried for theatre tickets to see 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 87 
 
 " Money," the crack thing ; but all were engaged for 
 a week. They sail for home the 17th Oct. Mr. and 
 Mrs. S. K. Lothrop arrived in London that day! I 
 saw them not ; Rodmans told me. Home in cab — so 
 convenient — only a shilling. It is not the thing 
 for ladies to ride in a "Hansom/' which broke my 
 heart. Dare say I should have done it, if left to 
 myself, but no matter. 
 
 Now Sunday was our sweetest but most deadly 
 day. Walked to the Foimdling Hospital Service in 
 the Chapel by six hundred children. Fearful stupid 
 sermon. I kept thinking how Edward would have 
 preached to those children and not at them like this 
 man, whose sermon was (I really believe it wasn't, 
 though) " The sins of the fathers shall be visited 
 upon the children." After the service, Mr. Stevens 
 (again!) met us, and showed us the little things 
 eating — their beds and all that — most touching; 
 in a glass case, the little souvenirs found when they 
 come, pinned on them (ever since 1600) to identify 
 them! Lovely grounds outside. 
 
 Railway (with Stevens) from Waterloo Station to 
 Hampton Court. It was lovely weather — have we 
 not been lucky ! — and the grounds were simply en- 
 chanting! and the Court itself the most attractive 
 old place I have seen. Reeks with Henry VIII, 
 etc. We passed many hours there. Then, think of 
 this, were rowed in a boat, down to Surbiton, a sta- 
 tion nearer London. This was the best of all the 
 things we did. The lovely river — exactly like pic- 
 tures by Mrs. S. C. Hall — men punt-fishing in 
 chairs, lovers in boats, cows on the shore ! I shall 
 never forget it — all in the sunset light. We left 
 Stevens at Surbiton and took train for London. 
 Weary evening packing. ... To bed at twelve and 
 up at six in the morning. 
 
 Monday, a fearful heik getting off. . . . My dear ! 
 
88 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 the Channel was smooth as a lamb ! ISTone of us were 
 sick, although you would have been, for some were, 
 — but we sate on the highest deck and watched the 
 Cliffs of Dover recede, and La telle France come into 
 sight. It was a long and very tiring ride from 
 Calais; but we had very funny companions, and de- 
 lighted in their French, an old woman with the gout, 
 and a cat in a basket ; — and a voluble little lady 
 who told me her whole history. Capital practice. 
 My French works admirably, though 'tis fearful 
 stuff. The train was late; after dark when we 
 reached Paris; and I don't see how I lived through 
 getting the baggage and all that, tired as I was ; but 
 we reached here at last. Our apartment is charming. 
 Good-bye. 
 
 Your loving Suse. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 338 EUE St. Honoee, Paris, 
 Monday evening, October 28, 1872. 
 DEAR CRECHE, — . . . My dear, the James Lowells 
 are here! and I am having the sweetest time with 
 them. Mary Lodge told me their address, which 
 was right on my way home from my lesson, so I 
 stojDped there to see them, and found them very 
 cordial, especially James, and they made me come 
 and breakfast with them the next day. They are 
 living very near the river, and not far from here in 
 a quiet hotel where there is a tahle d'hote. I arrived 
 to breakfast at ten, and found James waiting for me ; 
 the tahle d'hote is in a room just on the Rue; soon 
 Mrs. L. came do^vn, and we had a very enchantingly 
 pleasant talk, also rognons sautees, chops and fruit. 
 Mr. Lowell is very fimny about talking the French, 
 — and the dishes. He kept saying, " Now, Susie, 
 this is the nicest thing that has happened, that you 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 89 
 
 are here wliile we are." He is perfectly happy, root- 
 ing in book stalls for all the books in Old French that 
 exist, and having them elegantly bound, cheap. They 
 are living with economy, and he wants to stay all 
 winter, and she never wants to go home. I went up 
 to their salon, and stayed till twelve, he monologued 
 while smoking; there was a little fire, flowers in a 
 pot, and Mrs. L. had her sewing. It was very nice, 
 and, besides, James was so sunny and genial; read 
 extracts from letters about Carlyle, talked of old 
 times, etc. I am to keep going again. Is it not an 
 odd chance? 
 
 That's that; now here's this. Hatty and I went 
 to Theatre Frangais Saturday night ! My knees 
 knocked under me a little as I went to buy my tickets, 
 in the afternoon ; but the odd thing is that a woman 
 keeps the box-office, overlooked by a gendarme. 'No 
 difficulty at all — and after dinner Hatty and I just 
 dropped down to the theatre, next door to Palais 
 Royal, on foot, walked up and took our seats, which 
 were in "the family circle," as we should say, for 
 cheapness — perfectly respectable, and surrounded 
 by decorous French of both sexes. Do you remem- 
 ber the polite ladies in caps who tend the boxes and 
 tickets ? It was hot and close — but such bliss — 
 " The Cid " ! and exactly like Rachel, only her part 
 omitted, of course. I enjoyed every minute. . . . 
 So French ! — but such exquisite French, such enun- 
 ciation, far superior to that of the shops. Perfectly 
 good acting throughout. Do you know, there 's no 
 bell for the curtain, but three thumps with a kind of 
 hammer, which made all the people in the pit turn 
 round from ogling about like a picture in the Illus- 
 trated London News, and settle themselves to the 
 play. No orchestra, nor music. 
 
 I should like to go every night. It was not over 
 till eleven, and even then the " Precieuses Ridicules " 
 
90 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 was to follow ; but I thought Hatty had had enough ; 
 and it was a shade late, so we came out and quietly 
 walked home through St. Honore Street, rang the 
 bell, the big door swung open, and we rushed up to 
 narrate our adventures. The other girls were afraid 
 to go; but now we have proved it can be done, we 
 shall take a loge next time, which holds six, and costs 
 fourteen francs — less than our seats, which were 
 three francs each. It is so easy to do this here, for 
 nobody stares at you at all, and the streets are full 
 of women (of respectability) at all hours. Perhaps 
 it is just as well, however, not to yawp much about 
 our going alone, as it may be considered loose in 
 America. All our French friends here think it per- 
 fectly comme il faut, and seem not to know what we 
 mean when we doubt about going without a man. 
 The fact is the women have got the upper hand en- 
 tirely in this towTi — and the men are of no im- 
 portance at all; Jules makes the beds and Madame 
 scolds him. 
 
 The next thing was a Heavenly Concert yesterday 
 p. M. to which I went all alone, for the girls had not 
 got their steam on. I had the most delicious time. 
 An orchestral concert of the largest orchestra in the 
 world; they played 5th Symphony, Traumerei of 
 Schumann, the Oberon overture, and a Mendelssohn 
 thing. In future we shall all always go, for they are 
 every Sunday. I find out about these things by talk- 
 ing with Madame Leviss, who is Herst's other eleve 
 on Cours days ; I think she is very high in the social 
 scale, though her hair is ill arranged. . . . 
 
 Paris, November 9. 
 We are beginning to pull out the bolts and let our- 
 selves down from this blissful Parisian life, where- 
 upon despair falls upon me, for I hate to stir, and 
 still more to plan stirring. We shall be here all next 
 
STUDYING AET IN EUROPE 91 
 
 week, and till Wednesday of the next ; and if I were 
 alone, I should float on till a week from Tuesday 
 and then skedaddle (I think you have this word, 
 have you not?) — but that won't do; of course there 
 is oceans of farewell visiting to do — and winding-up 
 in general, and endless discussing of routes and the 
 like. I shall take my last lesson of Herst next Sat- 
 urday. He says, " He has never parted from any one 
 with so much regret," — % flattery, if not %> ^^^ 
 he is very good to me — and I have immensely en- 
 joyed the lessons. Long to show you the things he 
 and I have done. . . . 
 
 . Just as I came out into the rue, an omnibus came 
 by — pas complet, so I sprang in, without that prayer 
 and fasting which should chasten the mind before 
 risking it in a French omnibus. " Correspondance 
 pour la Place Vendome" I said to the man, and he 
 took it calmly. I paid six sous, and he gave me a 
 little square ticket. We rode vast distances and 
 crossed bridges and passed fountains, and exchanged 
 whole cargoes of passengers at different places, still 
 he said not to get out till I reached Place de Chatelet. 
 (Pitch-dark, you observe.) Here I alighted, and 
 went in to the Bureau and said again, " Correspond- 
 ance pour la Place Vendome,^' which worked again, 
 for the man gave me a round thing. I went back to 
 the side-walk, but how the divil (this is a quotation) 
 was I to know what omnibus to take, for they were 
 rushing by as thick as the flies in Spates's dining- 
 room. I soon got a great facility in reading the 
 labels — and when one came that said " Rue Rivoli," 
 I thought I would risk myself on that. A whole 
 foule of bonnes in caps, old gent-s and ouvriers were 
 of the same mind. We crowded up to the omnibus, 
 the Guard yawped, " Nobody but ' 47 ' can come 
 into this Bus." An old woman darted forward and 
 showed "47" on her round ticket, and got in. 
 
92 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 " 48 ! " Then " 48 " got in. I was " 50," and mine 
 was the last seat! and lots had to wait for other 
 omnibuses. I gave him my round thing, which he 
 seemed to expect, and got in and was having a very 
 pleasant little ride in the dark when I perceived 
 there was a great jangling of bells in the Bus, and 
 the Guard was yawping that somebody hadn't paid, 
 and after a great deal of gabbling it turned out it was 
 me! Then all the people turned and rent me and 
 said, "Ah, Madame, vous navez pas de C orrespond- 
 ance,^^ and I said I did have correspondance and then 
 the Guard got very mad, and there was a buzzing of 
 voices and all pitching into me and " Correspondance 
 
 — pondance — pondance!^' resounded. Then I made 
 my first Maiden speech before a French Audience 
 and told them all exactly where I got in and 
 what I had done — and then they all said, " Oh ! 
 she left her ticket at the Bureau ! " Seems I ought 
 to have kept the square thing I got in the first bus, 
 
 — whereas I thought I was to exchange it for the 
 round thing!!! "Ah oui, certainement,''^ I replied, 
 and pretended to think that settled the whole thing 
 
 — but the Guard continued to grumble, so I asked 
 him if he still expected me to pay and what sum, and 
 gave him six sous over again, murmuring something 
 about the cruelty to " voler the stangers." I think 
 the sentiment of the house was \vith me, and my 
 neighbours spoke soothing words. This skirmish took 
 so much time that we soon reached rue d' Alger, and 
 I left the Bus — showing the difficulties in managing 
 les correspondances. But you know, now, I think 
 I know how to do it ; and what I really think is, that 
 if you get into any omnibus in any street going 
 either way, it will take you where you want to go, 
 if you give it time. . . . 
 
 All the Parisian women go about with neat petti- 
 coats of hlacJc moreen just to the tops of their boots. 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 93 
 
 Then they hold or hitch their dresses quite out of 
 sight. They are either with a flounce or not, trimmed 
 with rows of black velvet ribbon or not. I have just 
 got one, — to wear instead of any kind of crinoline 
 except a bustle at the top. I think it is the neatest, 
 sweetest fashion for a long time. No French woman 
 dreams of letting her skirts drag in the mud or dust, 
 and you can tell them from the Americans in a 
 minute by this difference. Black moreen, and really 
 short, not very full; mine is flounced behind, but 
 smooth in front. . . . 
 
 By Jingo ! — excuse me — but it just strikes me 
 that though I have wi-itten to Edward since, I have 
 not told you about dining at Sophia's and going to 
 the theatre, — have I? That was Monday. I don't 
 believe I have written you since Sunday. Mercy! 
 Well, Miss Whitwell asked Susan, Hatty and me to 
 dine and go to the theatre with her and Horatio. We 
 went to the Gymnase. Saw first, " Je dine chez ma 
 
 mere," and then , simply the most tremendous 
 
 play of sentiment you never saw, utterly impossible 
 in English. Quite improper because so intense. But 
 so well acted. The man is a cold-blooded kind of 
 
 , the woman, a passionate, conscientious, 'plain 
 
 woman! How French to have her not handsome. 
 There's a love scene — We — No use talking 
 about it. Fancy one of Cherbuliez novels, or even 
 M. de Camois, acted out on the stage. I never got 
 wrought up — in the same manner — by acting. 
 Simply, the people loere the people they imperson- 
 ated. It was just as bad and exciting, not vulgar 
 or coarse, as it could be. " La Gueule du Loup," a 
 new play with a great run. . . , 
 
 I don't mention much a running fire of calls from 
 Mrs. Ritchie and James Lowell and Charles Dorr 
 and Homans's and ainsi de suite, because I am not 
 here to catalogue Americans; but it all takes time 
 
94 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 and complicates the getting away. James Lowell is 
 always lovely ; I must breakfast there once more. . . . 
 Good-bye. 
 
 Yrs., 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Paeis, 1872. 
 . . . Sunday morning I breakfasted at the James 
 Lowells' again, and with dear Mr. R, W. Emerson, 
 who is there — very beaming, and meekly lending 
 himself to claret for breakfast. He is with his 
 daughter, Ellen Emerson. Lots of love from 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 388 eue St. Hongee, Thursday, p. m., 
 November li, 1872. 
 
 DEAE LUCEETIA, — We havc been so upset by the 
 news of the Boston Fire, that for a day or two it 
 seemed impossible to write or do anything as we had 
 been ; and we are all very impatient for details, which 
 we cannot get even till we are at Weimar; for we 
 shall leave here before those mails can arrive. Mean- 
 while I try to persuade myself that the accounts are 
 exaggerated, and that if anything very dreadful had 
 happened, you would telegraph. We have to sup- 
 pose that Mr. Fessenden's Store is gone in Federal 
 Street; but that by no means implies the loss of his 
 fortune. The girls think their important papers were 
 all there; but we hope there was time to get them 
 out. You see we knew nothing about the horses 
 till after we heard about the fire. All came in a 
 day; . . . 
 
 Well, Monday after my lesson, Susan and I started 
 off to ■wipe out calls, and went to the 's, who, 
 
STUDYIIs^G AKT IN EUEOPE 95 
 
 confound them, had left their card on me in call- 
 ing on the B.'s. We met Mrs. just coming out. 
 
 '" Of course you have heard," she said, but we had n't ; 
 and had to endure her rambling and incoherent ac- 
 count that All Boston was in flames, but it was no 
 
 consequence as the house in Beacon Street was 
 
 still standing. We flew as soon as we got rid of her 
 to the Legation, rue Chaillot, near by (near the 
 Arc), and there Col. Hoffman was very kind and 
 sympathetic. I have not seen him before, though 
 he has called here three times! He showed me the 
 latest telegram, — the fire had just broke out again — • 
 and told us that we could probably at nine o'clock 
 get the Times with more news. We stopped at the 
 Homans's coming home, and found them bursting 
 with all they had heard at Munroe's, etc., and they 
 told us of Bowles Brothers' failure. You can im- 
 agine the ferment of all the Americans here. Ladies 
 going for money and finding Bowles closed. Are we 
 not glad we are not with them — though they soothe 
 us by saying All the Bankers are shaky. 
 
 We flew home and found none of the party had 
 heard about the fire. Hatty rushed down to Sophia's 
 to hear what they knew — the Whitwells — and, in 
 fact, they have lost lots of money, and Horatio has 
 had a telegram. There are many private telegrams, 
 and crowds of people are sent for home. We had 
 a gloomy dinner at our Cafe. It was raining hard. 
 But Carrie and I had bought our tickets for the 
 Theatre Frangais, and we thought it foolish not to 
 go — so we kept on and enjoyed it immensely, al- 
 though every time the curtain was down our thoughts 
 went back to Boston. Col. Hoffman said, " It seems 
 there was something the matter with the horses" — 
 but that sounded so like a French canard that I took 
 no interest in it. But next day we had our letters and 
 several j^apers. Only think, Edward says, " In case 
 
96 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 of fire the engines will be manned by men again 
 as in old times," etc. How dreadful about the horses ! 
 . . . All that day and yesterday we could not do 
 much but go to banks and Galignani's; oh, Monday 
 evening at nine, the girls sent Jules up to the Kiosk 
 at the Grand Hotel; and he brought back the Times 
 with a column of telegraphs from Philadelphia, very 
 interesting, but we hope exaggerated. Yesterday 
 Charles Dorr came round to talk about it, and see 
 how we felt, and cheer us up. I thought it was very 
 pleasant of him. He seems to think he has heavy 
 losses. When I got to the Atelier Tuesday morning 
 M. Herst met me full of interest, — you see every- 
 body hears of it, — and I had to explain the thing 
 in French — in fact, I understand it better in French 
 than English, all about the laine cru that was in the 
 Magazins de Gros, and tout cela. And Tuesday eve- 
 ning Herst called again to console. It's a lie to say 
 that we were absorbed by it yesterday, for we had 
 many other things to do and did them. After my 
 lesson, I had a lovely breakfast at the Lowells'. 
 James was very entertaining, and so was Mr. Holmes, 
 who had commanded an immense quantity of French 
 oysters (raw) in my honour. So the breakfast began 
 with that, and they are very good, which is odd, for 
 they taste exactly like copper cents soaked in sea- 
 water. J. R. L. says the reason is that the oysters 
 feed on little boys wearing copper-toed shoes, who 
 have been drowned in their vicinity. We also had 
 delicious Chablis to drink which was Mr. Holmes's 
 treat; and then rognons sautees and chops. Mr. 
 Holmes (you know it is hrotlier to Dr. O. W. H.) 
 and James Lowell were full of Jack, chaffing each 
 other and going on, and it was very nice. I stayed 
 a long time — and agreed (not really) to go up the 
 Nile with them, as their Dragoman, next winter. 
 My dear, it was snowing when I came away, or soon 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 97 
 
 after, and as cold as Greenland and Raw as the Beef 
 EuUum used to buy for He. I went round by " An 
 Louvre " and bougbt me a little paletot for forty-two 
 francs. I don't like it very well — but I had to get 
 something. My idea was to put off a thick coat to 
 buy in Leipsic, for I don't think the Parisians under- 
 stand the subject. . . . 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss Lucbetia P. Hale 
 
 Frau Biber's Erfurte-strasse, Tuesday 
 evening, December 3, 1872. 
 
 DEAR LUCRETiA — ... Perhaps the most won- 
 derful moment yet of our travels was this p. m. when 
 I bade good-bye to Hatty at the corner of Schiller- 
 strasse (having previously put Susan into a droshky, 
 — kissed Carrie and Annie, — paid the bill and 
 "tipped" the waiters) and walked off with my 
 waterproof over my arm, and my umbrella in my 
 hand, to my new Wohnung. . . . When I got here 
 I crossed my bridge, and the nice stout Dutch Magd 
 came out and let me into my room, where a fire 
 Avas in the stove and the sim. shining in very 
 pleasantly. . . . 
 
 All the time we were learning our way about 
 Weimar, and here I must tell about it, for you have 
 no idea how pretty it is. We were at the hotel on 
 a Platz called Der Markt. . . . Oh! wonder! the 
 other side is a huge paved place with the Schloss 
 on it — that is the Castle where the Herzog lives!! 
 Oh! dear! I can't make you know how it looks, 
 for, of course, you won't believe it really looks like 
 this, just within a stone's throw of where I've 
 been living a week, and that I hear the clock strike 
 all the hours and halves and quarters, and that the 
 
98 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Duke's band was playing the " Tannhauser " while 
 we were packing this morning! ISTow this Schloss 
 kind of backs up on the to"\vn, but looks forth on a 
 broad and lovely park with the Ilm running through 
 it, — and here we can walk continually. The Ilm 
 is so like the Ashuelot that it might be it, winding 
 through that wild country over by West Mountain, 
 — for the Park is not like the Public Garden, but 
 wilder than Uncle Tom Lee's woods, only a great 
 deal larger and with graceful bridges, arched, of 
 stone, across the river — oh, it's as large as Brook- 
 line — you can walk miles in it. Sunday was a 
 warm spring-like day, with the frost coming out of 
 the ground ; Annie and I walked long in these wind- 
 ing paths, and plucked little English daisies still in 
 bloom. There is lovely sketching there — old trees 
 with green moss on their trunks, stones and arches, 
 and running water. Who could have thought it 
 would be so lovely. The Rathhaus is a pretentious 
 ornamented building, and in front of it is the broad 
 Marht — it is all very still here — paved with hobbly- 
 stones and next to no side-walks; and there are in 
 all Weimar almost as few horses as Jerusalem (which, 
 indeed, it looks like, only clean). But when we had 
 been here several days, Susan called out to me one 
 morning as I was dressing, "' Look out of window, 
 Susie " ; there I beheld the whole place alive and 
 swarming with the Market, which comes only twice 
 a week. We went out and prowled about it. It was 
 so exactly like a scene on the stage, that when the 
 band on the balcony of the Rathhaus began to play, 
 we felt as if we must take an attitude and begin to 
 sing. The women sate in long rows with absurd 
 things to sell, like the Cairo shops, only more like 
 a German picture-book. I bought a gingerbread bar, 
 and a writing-book, and two apples; and laughed, 
 and tried to talk, with the jolly women. The most 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 99 
 
 dreadful thing (to look at), whicli they had to sell, 
 was in a barrel, and was pink cabbages with a great 
 deal of juice. They dipped up the red juice in dip- 
 pers and poured it into Seltzer ju^s for those who 
 wished to buy. They sold lovely flowers, but also 
 wreaths and crosses made out of dyed immortelles 
 and worked in with paper roses. There are two 
 bunches of them in this room. Most of the women 
 had live geese sitting by them, and there were a great 
 many dogs. Was n't that singular ? "What surprises 
 me more and more about travellers is that they bear 
 up so well under the strangeness of these things, and 
 bravely avoid mentioning them, while they confine 
 themselves to the price of food. 
 
 Another morning, about nine o'clock, we looked 
 out of window, and saw a band in uniform forming 
 themselves in a large circle under the hotel windows. 
 They played for half an hour most lovely music. 
 \Vhen we went down to breakfast we asked what it 
 meant, and they said, " Oh it was in honour of the 
 Mayor of the town. His sister dwells in the hotel, 
 so this band comes often to play before her." . . . 
 
 In the evening we went to the " Meistersinger," 
 which was delightful ; the orchestra is splendid, and 
 I enjoyed the music immensely, although it needs 
 several hearings. It was very well acted, in an un- 
 affected kind of way, as if the singers sought not 
 to glorify themselves, but the music they were ren- 
 dering, entirely different from the display of Italian 
 Stars. I can't give you the sort of feeling I had, as 
 if any body in Weimar would have been willing to 
 get up and help, and could have done it — that is, 
 partly because the language is the vernacular, and 
 because all the scenery and chairs and tables were 
 just like the real ones. In one street scene there 
 straggled in a little girl at the back, quite in keeping 
 as to costume and all that, so that I thought she was 
 
100 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 part of the opera; but she was only a Weimar child 
 that had dropped in, I suppose, to see how her par- 
 ents were getting along. 
 
 I must n't write such volumes ; and yet I must ! 
 
 Yesterday morning I took my first painting-lesson, 
 and lor! it is very funny. Professor Hummel is 
 very much, to look at, like Dr. Hedge; and he has 
 his "Atelier" as he calls it, all about in two little 
 parlours. When I went in, so found I two ladies 
 puttering away, and a gentleman with his neatly 
 prepared drawing-board painting. (Wouldn't Ed- 
 ward like it!) He proved to be the Prussian Am- 
 bassador; for you must know that there is an Am- 
 bassador from Prussia to this small Court, which is 
 much, I should think, like having an Ambassador 
 from Vermont in Delaware. They are all under the 
 Kaiser, but they do a little '^ambassing" among them- 
 selves. Well, he is a handsome man, a little like 
 N"athan, very Jioflich, and pretended he tliought I 
 was German; my Deutsch was so good. However, 
 he had then heard very little. The Professor had got 
 me a table and copy all fixed out, and I sate down 
 to copy a study of Rocks in Sepia. Alas, dear Herst ! 
 this man's method is totally different, and so old- 
 fashioned and arriere! To copy every darned line 
 in pencil before the colour ! ! 
 
 Of course, I did it so perfectly well that the little 
 man was staggered — for he asked me first if it was 
 " zu schwer," and was a little nettled when I told 
 him I thought not; but he had to acknowledge that 
 I zeichnete sehr ivolil, und hesser als die Damen 
 gewohnlich; however, he succeeded in picking out a 
 small place where I hadn't dravm it just like the 
 copy ; so got India rubber, and had me rub that part 
 out and do it over again ! ! He is a worthy little 
 man, with only the natural antagonism, in which I 
 entirely sympathise with him, against anybody who 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 101 
 
 does pretty well to begin with. I have a private 
 impression that with Herst's lights, I could teach 
 him a great deal more than he can me; but I don't 
 want you to let on to any one this, only let it be 
 known that I am taking of the Best teacher in 
 Weimar, which means the Best in Germany ; for this 
 is what they really all say; I don't feel at all as if 
 I were wasting time, as I don't in the least object 
 to going for once through the conventional routine. 
 Of course I don't really think I know more than he 
 does, — and he works extremely well in his own way 
 
 — but alas, Herst ! he looked at my brushes — sniffed 
 at all, especially at the apple of Herst's eye (which 
 he gave me as if it were his heart's blood on account 
 of its fine point) — and said they were none of them 
 small enough ( ! ! ) and is now buying me smaller 
 ones to putter with. And, my dear, what do you 
 think one of the Frauleins was doing? Tracing a 
 group of Ludwig Richter's figures, yes, with thin 
 paper ! — blacking the back, and then marking it 
 on to a wooden box — how Nelly would scorn her! 
 
 — and then " the Professor " came and sandpapered 
 the box himself where the black had crocked it! 
 Funny to see Dr. Hedge sitting and rubbing old 
 sandpaper on a box, and having that called "High 
 Art " ! The Professor himself is painting away on a 
 great allegoric oil-picture with temples and cactuses 
 in it — and he sits smoking and painting, but occa- 
 sionally starts up and takes the tour of the rooms, 
 tells me to make more lines, tells the Oesandte that 
 Hooker's green won't do for his Tannen-trees, sand- 
 papers the box, etc., etc. It must be just like Mr. 
 D.'s classes. But in the midst he went off and had 
 Fruhstuch in the next room with his family. Evi- 
 dently there was company ; for we heard much clank- 
 ing of forks and talking, — and the Oesandte kept 
 groaning at the long breakfast, because he had got 
 
102 LETTERS OF SUSAX HALE 
 
 stuck. The Professor popped in his head from time 
 to time, criticised all, and went back to his Frilh- 
 stuch. His small son was in the room, eating prezels 
 and things, and came and proffered me two roast 
 chestnuts. That's all about that. . . . Write like 
 dragons. 
 
 Yrs., 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 AND 
 
 Charles Hale 
 
 Weimar, Saxe^ Germany, Sunday morning, 
 December 15, 1872. 
 
 dear lucretia and CHARLES, — '* Brief 6, BHefe, 
 gnddiges Frdulein/' calls the stout Elise, apparently 
 in the middle of the night, and I come with alacrity 
 out of my singular little bed, and find that it is really 
 nine o'clock and beginning to be light, and that fire 
 and coffee and letters are waiting. To wdt: yours 
 of Thanksgiving Day, and Charley's brief enclosing 
 one. . . . 
 
 I am getting more or less settled, but am not yet 
 in routine, which I very much wish to establish, for 
 at present things are conducted much in the hurry- 
 skurry method of 91 Boylston Street. It seemed a 
 fatality to be dressing for the Von Gross spree in 
 wild haste, and hooking up that black silk, as it 
 always is fastened, wdth desperate inattention, while 
 searching for gloves and seizing handkerchief. The 
 days are very short, — and you see it makes more to 
 do when you wish to sacrifice much to the language. 
 I consider that I am " fattening " the time when I 
 am merely talking with my sweet little Frau Biber. 
 She is so nice. Is it not nice that she is nice ? The 
 Germans use " nette " a great deal. It corresponds 
 
STUDYING AKT IN EUKOPE 103 
 
 to " gentiV in French, and "nice" in English. 
 Laux! this German — it is fearfully hard. But I 
 must concentrate. 
 
 I don't think you understand about my Singular 
 Bed. It is so small that our Single Beds in Brookline 
 were Giants to it. In fact it has occurred to me to 
 say that while those were single, this is single-er. Do 
 you recall the furniture in wooden boxes, particularly 
 one set I had in the Baby House. It was the very 
 bed that Sealingwax had in her room at Mrs. Winder- 
 mere's, until her father, Charles, made another bed 
 out of cigar-box, with dark-green cotton velvet glued 
 on it, for her. Then it was moved down into Nut- 
 ting's room. Well that is my bed ; and there is also 
 a washstand just like the washstand that came with 
 that. There is a very good mattress in this little 
 trough, slanted up at the head. Then a wobbly pil- 
 low with red ticking and no pillow-case. Then there 
 is a thick quilted comforter, which has white cotton 
 buttoned round it, so that the under side is white, 
 and the top looks like this — Well ? — 
 
 Well, — don't you see that big (.) there ? That is 
 all! That is all the bed arrangement, — except the 
 Poultice or Eider-down Thing which is the size of 
 the Bed, but which no feller can sleep under without 
 being turned to jelly. The Bed is never made up at 
 all; that is I find this red thing neatly folded up 
 on the foot of the entirely bare bed. Then must I 
 tuck it in all round, or it falls off in the course of 
 the night, which is why I always wear my purple 
 dressing-gown to bed, and such other clothing as the 
 weather seems to require. . . . 
 
 But I must tell about the party at the Von Gross's. 
 I think it was made for me ; but nobody exactly says 
 so, and I don't know whether they take it for granted 
 that such was the case or not. Anyhow I got myseK 
 up with my best back hair, black silk, and three- 
 
104 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 buttoned gloves (ours are the only ones in Weimar), 
 and at eight with a somewhat low heart I repaired 
 to the spot. Frau Biber was invited, but she never 
 goes anywhere. The Van G.'s live au premier. 
 Numerous servants in white chokers threw open 
 doors, and a neat maid, in a small room full of rows 
 of pegs, took my things and himg them on the same. 
 It is a series of rooms en etage, and reminded me so 
 of our Alexandria parties. I shook hands with Herr 
 and Frau von G. and was introduced to Fraulein 
 von G., sister to Herr, a very plain, German-looking 
 woman of forty, perhaps, dressed in a green satin, 
 quite flat behind, but sumptuous. Everybody that 
 came in asked to be introduced to me, and I talked 
 in German with them ; among others were three gen- 
 tlemen, whom we had always seen at the table d'hote 
 at the hotel, and I thought it spoke well for the ele- 
 gance of foreign manners that they all sprang forward 
 and asked Frau von G. to introduce them to me, as if 
 they wished thus to sanctify the slight nodding ac- 
 quaintance. One was an Englishman of a rather 
 ordinary type, another, an Old Wig of great impor- 
 tance in Weimar, and the third, a Heavenly Officer in 
 great gold epaulettes from Altona. With all of these 
 I talked and exulted in showing the Englishman 
 (whom I despise) how fast my German has got on. 
 
 My dear, I was introduced to at least twenty-five 
 Germans, — most of them sort of Kays and Tods like 
 the Alexandria people. The pleasantest was Herr 
 Berlow who is the Editor of the Weimar Zeitung, 
 but a Great Man, with an order in his coat; then 
 there was a grey little man who I think is literary, 
 for he talked about Longfellow, and was pretty well 
 up on our country. They all declare that Greeley 
 is dead, and that they have read about his funeral. 
 
 There were different rooms, and there seemed to 
 be a sort of order of progression, for Herr von G. 
 
STUDYING AKT IN EUROPE 105 
 
 kept coming and poking me up, and putting me in 
 another room. They sate round a table in each 
 room, and at each I was introduced to the circle, 
 and then held forth (in German!) to the circle, fall- 
 ing afterwards into talk with my next neighbour. 
 You must know that the Erb-Prinz has just started 
 for Egypt, and so I have a great card in my Egyp- 
 tian Reise, — for they look with peculiar interest on 
 that subject. To ascend the P^Tamids and describe 
 the Camel in German ! They are more amazed here 
 than in America — and Egypt really seems here far- 
 ther off — for most of the people here have never 
 been in Leipsic — Avhich is two hours off by railway, 
 — and as for Paris ! — nobody. They think I am a 
 furchtharre Reiserinn. . . . 
 
 My other piece de resistance,, of course, is the Von 
 Gersdorffs, and I hold forth about them to all these 
 people — and also the Boston Fire, and whether the 
 Von Gersdorffs were probably burnt up in it. . . . 
 Well, I was talking to a very gabble-tonguey man who 
 was very illegible, when there was kind of a move 
 made, — as if for supper, and Gabble Tongue offered 
 his arm, — and we stood up, but hung back, — for 
 Precedence, of course; but it soon appeared that I 
 was expected ; and in another room we found a little 
 table set with eight plates only, and I was motioned 
 to one end, while Friiulein von G. took the other. 
 We sat as by cut : 
 
 ,. Fraulein V. Gross 
 
 Herr? 
 
 Frau? 
 
 Herr Gabble 
 Tongue? 
 
 Herr? 
 Frau? 
 Herr Berlow 
 
 The conversation was general at first, but my men 
 both talked to me. At last when they were all jab- 
 
106 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 bering together I couldn't follow at all — very be- 
 wildering. We had salad and pate de foie g. handed 
 round — but pray don't think anything tastes or looks 
 as at home ! — and afterwards ice-cream, and white 
 and red wine, and tumblers of lager beer, constantly 
 replenished. Meanwhile all the others sat about the 
 other tables, and were fed, but from trays with plates 
 brought to them, I think, as in America. Ours was 
 the only previously set table. 
 
 By and by all pushed back their chairs, and then 
 all bowed and curtseyed to each other and said a little 
 Pater iToster of some sort. It was just like balance 
 to corners and turn, for they shook hands with each, 
 and then went to another. I supposed we were all 
 going home, but, on the contrary, after they got over 
 doing it to everybody, the spree went on. Was it not 
 singular and alarming ? Pretty soon everybody began 
 to go. I made my adieux, had a few sweet words 
 with my officer, found Elise below, and walked home 
 with her. Forgot to say that tea was constantly 
 handed round all the time and strange kinds of little 
 cakes. . . . 
 
 Lots of love — and merry Christmas, if this comes 
 in time. 
 
 YouE Susie. 
 
 To Miss Mary B. Dinsmook 
 
 Weimar, Wednesday evening, 
 December 18, 1872. 
 MY DEAR MARY^ — In this dreadful land, every 
 moment not devoted to the fearful language is a 
 waste of time; and, therefore, every English letter 
 a wicked indulgence, but I am about to plunge my- 
 self in that dissipation, for my Soul has been going 
 out to you through the cracks of irregular German 
 verbs for some time, — in fact, at intervals ever since 
 
STUDYING AET IN EUROPE 107 
 
 I received your letter, which it was angelic to write 
 and most refreshing to receive. Go and do likewise. 
 
 In Weimar, I think of George's comment on Min- 
 nesota, — it would be easy to tell them what the 
 fashions were three years hence. They don't wear 
 big hoops, because big hoops have not yet come to 
 them, and their dresses are long, — not because Mrs. 
 Gordon Dexter draggles hers, but because they have 
 never been short. They speak of Beads as a fashion 
 to come. If I knew the German for it I should say, 
 " Good Lord, my dears, I have just been through with 
 that, and luckily have brought a few." 
 
 .But you don't want to hear about Weimar fashions, 
 — only I thought of George. And is it not curious, 
 when they are so near dear delightful Paris, that 
 they are so in the dark concerning her habits ? It 's 
 very like some little boys that have caught a Bull in 
 a rabbit-trap. They don't darst to go near him, and 
 they leave him out in the barn where they found him, 
 but they think it's very fine all the same to have a 
 Caught Bull. Excuse the mixed nature of this 
 simile. If I hadn't forgotten the English expres- 
 sions, I would make it better. We had Hare for 
 dinner to-day (speaking of Bulls). He was served 
 skinned but roasted, with his little back bone and 
 hind legs. Awful good ! So is Beer-soup, sweet, with 
 cinnamon in it. 
 
 I take it for granted that you get snatches of my 
 letters from time to time, and are therefore aware of 
 my being, doing, and suffering (grammar again! 
 psh!). I ought to have written you from Paris, for 
 I thought of you there very often, and it was very 
 blissful to be there so long, and to talk their lovely 
 idle language, which, as it seems, in comparison with 
 this terrific tongue, 
 
 " Gentlier on the spirit lies 
 Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes." 
 
108 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I believe all my correspondents will think I make 
 a most imcommon fuss abont this German language, 
 and upon raj word^ I will say no more about it. 
 Mind, I 've got it, now, so that I can do everything 
 in it, and am the wonder of Weimar for my Fort- 
 schritt; but I continue to think it's damned hard. 
 So is my Bed; and I hate them both. Everything 
 else in Germany I like, and when I get used to the 
 above exceptions I '11 let you know. 
 
 Weimar is the Keene of Germany. I keep saying 
 to myself, " There now that is just like Keene." So 
 select, so self-possessed, aesthetic, and small, and yet 
 it is not like Keene to have a regular wind-mill up 
 on a hill behind the house, and a Schloss with tin, 
 I mean real, soldiers, standing in front all the time, 
 and a theatre. But would it not be good fun to have 
 a theatre in Keene ? Your father, now, might set 
 up a theatre. This belongs to the Grand Duke, and 
 he pays the salaries of all the actors and -tresses. 
 N^aturally he has it all his own way, and naturally 
 also the price of tickets is small. Is it not ridiculous 
 that I have a season ticket ? I and one of the other 
 girls. The tickets are brought to this house every 
 morning, with the Zeiiel, which means play-bill, and 
 the bill for Sunday has the plays for the week at the 
 bottom. . . . 
 
 There's another respect that makes Weimar like 
 Keene! Men are skurce! The popular report says 
 forty-five single females and three men. Strangely 
 like Brookline, also! But no one would think it to 
 see the prdchtige epaulettes every evening at the 
 theatre. However, I am told that these come over 
 from Erfurt where there is a camp, ... or some- 
 thing, — just as good, I should think, for practical 
 purposes. The Grand Duke is not very good to flirt 
 with, because you can't get at him. It 's rather mel- 
 ancholy about his daughters; they are very liehens- 
 
STUDYING ART m EUROPE 109 
 
 wiirdig, and have good broad German backs and not 
 uncomely faces, — the oldest is twentj-five, — they 
 can't possibly be married, my dear, because there is 
 nobody in the world of the right rank for them. 
 Is n't that hard ? You see it is perfectly well known, 
 for, of course, they have their Gotha Almanacs every 
 year, with all the first families printed do-wn in it; 
 and a husband can't be bom all of a sudden to them, 
 because now he would be too young. Is it not just 
 like Old Maid when only two are playing ? Of course 
 you know exactly when you 've got the card. Some- 
 body's wife might die, to be sure, and there is an old 
 cove about sixty-nine years old, who has just lost 
 his fourth wife, the Prince of Hockenpockenhaus or 
 something, but Princess Elizabeth wont marry him. 
 So even she has refused somebody! The princesses 
 can't go out alone, and they can't mix even with the 
 Court circle familiarly. They have all their clothes 
 from Paris, and their Papa, the Grand Duke, him- 
 self, lays out every day the dress he thinks proper 
 for them to wear. I don't know whether they decide 
 about their own stockings or not. 
 
 To return to the men ; it 's very well that my days 
 of heeding that sex are over, I encoimter so few of 
 them. I have established a passing weakness for an 
 officer from Altona who was at the hotel ; and after- 
 wards became introduced to me at a party. I am 
 told he is " munter," and he is very tall with lovely, 
 lovely epaulettes. I can't help wishing to be em- 
 braced by him to see where they would bump, — but 
 as yet he is rather afraid of me and my German, I 
 fear. 
 
 Good-bye, my dear Mary, I must fix my hair for 
 the opera. Don't show this letter to too many, for 
 it is silly, on purpose, partly to relax my German 
 mind, and partly to make you laugh, which I wish 
 I could hear and see you do it. If I conclude to send 
 
110 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 for Lucretia and live here always you will come and 
 visit us, won't you? Meantime write. 
 
 Your always remembering, 
 Susie Hale. 
 
 To Miss Lttceetia P. Hale 
 
 Merry Christmas! 
 Weimar, December 25, 1872. 
 
 Lord ! Pardon, my dear Lucretia, the strength of 
 the expression. It seems justified, as I hope you 
 will agree later, by the occasion. 
 
 You see the Biber Christmas, in this house, was 
 all knocked in the head, because Gertrud has the 
 measles. 'No sooner was this known in Weimar than 
 all were aroused to be sure I did not lose my Christ- 
 mas. First Frau Hummel (wife of the Professor) 
 asked me to come to their family tree. When I got 
 home, I found Frau Hettstedt, who lives up-stairs, 
 had asked me to her tree ; and it turned out she felt 
 so dreadfully bad at my not coming that it was ar- 
 ranged I should go first to that tree and the Hummel 
 tree afterwards. Then sweet Aunt Manderode came 
 and asked me to their tree, which, of course, I 
 couldn't; so am to dine there to-day, instead, and 
 Frau von Gross would have invited me to her tree if 
 she hadn't imderstood, etc., etc. The Waitz family 
 hoped I would come to their tree, and the Feltz 
 family were sorry I couldn't come to their tree. 
 My dear, every human being has a tree. It makes 
 no difference M^hether there are children in the 
 family. 
 
 The market-place and principal streets have been 
 full for a day or two of Tanneiibaums leaning up 
 against the houses. I should think the whole Thur- 
 ingian Forest would be laid waste to supply Weimar 
 alone. The girls were to go out at six to seven last 
 
STUDYING AKT IN EUEOPE 111 
 
 evening and walk along the streets to see a tree in 
 every house — a pretty sight; but my engagements 
 didn't permit. . . . 
 
 I got myself up richly in my Vigogne, with pink 
 bows, and at six went up to the Hettstedts'. She, you 
 know, is the leading lady at the theatre, and he is 
 the Warren (and last Simday evening in a burlesque 
 danced the " Cachucha " in a short pink satin with 
 black lace; stuffed to be fatter than Mrs. Jarley), 
 but Frau H. is a very refined little woman, and I 
 think is a little sensitive about her spouse's position. 
 Off the stage he is very pleasant, and kind of pathetic, 
 because she snubs him a little mite. They have a 
 son Emile, fourteen years old, and he had a friend 
 present at the tree. No one else was there when I 
 arrived, but soon in came, with great noise and laugh- 
 ter, Fr. Loth and Fr. Something-else, both Schau- 
 spielerinne in the theatre, the first a prominent one 
 
 that plays the young heroine. It was kind of a B 
 
 H set, don't you see, only that in Weimar, they 
 
 lose no caste at all by being actors. It 's as if I and 
 Nat. Childs ran the Globe and continued to dine with 
 Mrs. John Lowell. Both these Frauleins had short 
 frowsly hair, though on the stage they have ever}' 
 sort of postiche and chignon to suit the part. They 
 were a little rantipole, and said, "Ach! du lieber 
 Gott/' even more than the Manderodes and Bibers. 
 
 In a little while the tree was ready, and it was 
 sweet pretty; but they did not pretend to look at it 
 much; in fact, there had been no concealment; for 
 the boys themselves had geputzt it, and there was no 
 locking of doors and bursting in. It looked just like 
 our trees ; although Frl. Ludt said, " Of course in 
 America you can have only imitation Tannenhaums," 
 thinking that the American trees all grow of paste- 
 board. The tree had lights and balls and candy on 
 it ; and the presents for each were set about on tables. 
 
112 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I think Emile had seen his before. Herr H. appar- 
 ently had none. The Frauleins had sweet things laid 
 out for them. I thought them rather rude; for 
 though they cried, " Ach! du lieher Gott," and " umn- 
 derschon/^ they said generally that they had got the 
 things before. Fran IL looked at her pile with in- 
 terest. She had a black moreen petticoat and a fire- 
 rug; — and a pen wiper made out of a little black 
 doll, and dressed gaudily, which they all thought 
 was "reizend," and a bottle of " Rduclierpulver,'" 
 which you sprinkle on their stoves to partially avert 
 a kind of burnt iron smell inherent in their natures. 
 Were not these touching things? More, but in the 
 same sort. 
 
 Now they brought out champagne, of which we 
 drank a good deal — and ate Pfefferhuchen and little 
 cakes cut out in odd shapes, cocks and dogs, men, etc. 
 I had to leave before Tisch, which occurred later. I 
 had a great deal of talk with Frl. Loth. She reads 
 English novels with great gout. You 've no idea how 
 hard it is to imderstand their English words. She 
 said she liked very much "Ai dotto Eoovecht," but 
 she didn't exactly understand the meaning of the 
 title. I made her repeat it frequently, and finally 
 leaped upon "A daughter of Heth," — which was 
 right, — and I explained to her about Heth being 
 in the Old Testament, a work which, doubtless, she 
 has not carefully perused in any language. Well, we 
 parted with expressions of mutual esteem, and I 
 hasted to the Hummel occasion, where I was to be 
 at eight shari>. As I reached the house I heard a 
 great uproar, and it turned out that the Grand- 
 mother's tree was not quite done with, so I was in- 
 vited in to that, although previously only by the Frau 
 Professorin. The Grandmother lives unter; and 
 there was great jinks going on. Hatty James was 
 there. A tree just like the Hettstedts' — but all the 
 
STUDYI^^G AKT IX EUROPE 113 
 
 presents in piles, just like our ISTew Year's, and all 
 the Verwandten screaming and carrying on, exactly 
 as we used to ; how it reminded me of it. 
 
 " See my lovely Kragen! " — " Have you seen my 
 pile ? " " Look at this Brioche, the Grossmutter 
 made it selbst." — all at the toj) of their lungs. It 
 is so nice of them to have such touching things. Each 
 of the Frauleins had a new gown, Merino, nicely 
 trimmed, and Johanna had made and trimmed a hat, 
 black velvet with a rose for Gustel — and the boy 
 that goes next week to Leipsic, whence he ^all only 
 come back next Christmas for the holidays (it is two 
 hours by the train ! ) had a trunk ; and new trousers 
 and a knife, and six pocket-handkerchiefs marked in 
 red. Everybody had a packet of Pfefferhuchen, — 
 and there was no end of worsted-work. My dear, 
 there is not a horizontal line in Germany that 
 has n't got a lambrequin on it ! Were they not sweet 
 things ? and the family were all so sweet to Hatty 
 and me, " Liehe Miss Hale, have you seen my Korh 
 that Tante Anna gave me ? " Can you live to hear 
 that there was a fly-flapper embroidered out of the 
 Bazaar? In that snipped-out flannel of different 
 colours, with sewing-silk gestickt style. It's just as 
 we always said ; they live and move and have their 
 being in the Bazaar. 
 
 Soon we walked off and left that tree (oh, the Help 
 came in, one woman, and the girls quietly gave her 
 her things, just like us ! — a collar and sleeves, and 
 apron, etc.) and went up-stairs to the Professor 
 Hummel house — and here was another tree. The 
 funny thing is that they don't themselves take the 
 slightest notice of the Tree; and when we politely 
 stand back and praise it, they say, '' Oh, yes, I sup- 
 pose you don't have them in America," much as if 
 we should break out in admiration of the side of 
 a house. Fact is the Germans have no politeness. 
 
114 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I find it a fearful misfortune that they cannot lie, 
 under any pressure of circumstances. It might be 
 said that their constant use of " reizend " and 
 " wunde7^scJidn'' was an exception; but I'm confi- 
 dent that these words have no more real force than 
 "rather pretty" with us. But they were all in a 
 hurry to see their piles, for each had here another 
 pile. I don't know exactly how this was managed, 
 but I guess these piles were what Mr. and Mrs. Pro- 
 fessor gave. But we can't get on farther without a 
 Genealogy. 
 
 Downstairs lives: 
 
 GrossmuUer Hummel, cet. 80 ! with her two 
 Grandchildren, Johanna, cet. 27 (teaches Hatty 
 German), and Gustel, cet. 21. 
 
 Up-stairs lives: 
 
 Professor Hummel, son to G. Mutter, with his 
 Frau, his son, Karl, 15, and his son Wilhelm, 6. 
 
 Guests : 
 
 1. Frau Harkmudt, sister tx) Frau, cet. 55. 
 
 2. Her son ( ?) oet. 21, and 3. ( ?) cet. 17. 
 
 4. Frau Red-nose (I don't know her other name), 
 also sister to Frau, cet. 52. 
 
 5. Her daughter Anna, 26, betrothed to 
 
 6. Herr Schmit, who sat next her at table often 
 with his arm round her waist with no concealment, 
 and who was always addressed and spoken of as der 
 Brdutigam ! 
 
 7. Frau Generalin , another sister to Frau, 
 
 cet. 60, and more gorgeous, with rather fine manners. 
 
 8. I most forgot old Grossmutter Harkmudt, 
 very shaky, who sate beside the other Grossmutter. 
 Harkmudt himself is deceased. 
 
 There, I think I 've got them pretty well. Harriet 
 and I were nine and ten, and besides I have not 
 
STUDYING AET IN EUROPE 115 
 
 numbered the family. You see it made a goodly 
 crowd. Bless me, I 've forgotten " The Frommenac," 
 who is bosom friend to Johanny Hummel and the 
 most conspicuous of all. I thought her odious. She 
 has been the leading singer in opera here, but has 
 now retired to heirathen. A stout, noisy, short- 
 haired person who talked fearfully loud. But they 
 all screamed, and all talked at once. So did we, I 
 remember, at Thanksgivings. They all called her 
 ^' die Frommenac/^ thus: " Ach! du lieher Oott! die 
 Frommenac! Sie milss ein hiscJien niehr Gurke!" 
 I 've got ahead of myself and to Tiscli, which was 
 wrong; because that omits the sweet Professor pre- 
 senting me, with a bow and pretty speech, Ludwig 
 Richter's ''Summer" — wasn't it lovely! and to 
 Harriet, a box of bonbons. He himself had lots 
 of outside things. A liqueur-stand, the image of 
 Charley's, from Frl. Pappenheim, one of the paint- 
 students, accompanied by verses in German, which 
 der Brautigam read aloud, very badly. How they 
 screamed! and cried, " Reizend!" The little 
 "Willy" (so they call him!) had millions of pew- 
 ter-soldiers, in wooden boxes. In his pile, and 
 Karl's, were bright new thaler pieces, — from some 
 Uncle Alexander, I suppose, don't you ? The Frau 
 Professorin had a set of night Jdchchen made by a 
 niece, etc., etc. But I must get on. Pretty soon we 
 sate down to a long table. The Professor put me and 
 Harriet on either side of himself. You know I think 
 it was lovely of them to have us — and when I say 
 there 's no politeness, I mean as well that the things 
 they do do and say come right straight out of kind 
 hearts. There was great screaming and yelling about 
 dividing the males, but the boys all wanted to sit 
 together, and it was finally fixed with a great deal 
 of Grandmother settled at the bottom, or one end, 
 and a frothy mass of boys at the other. We were at 
 
116 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 the middle side, and the Erommenac directly oppo- 
 site. Der Brdutigam next Anna, and frequently 
 hugging her — but all very decorous. Such a meal. 
 Eirst came raw oysters, a great rarity, so far from the 
 sea — but very good. (They all eat with their 
 Jcnives, don't tell, and have only steel forks — very 
 handsome ones like our old best ones. There is a 
 little fence by the side of every plate where they sit 
 (the knife and fork) between courses, and are never 
 changed ! ) 
 
 Then came m^acaroni, done with cheese. Long 
 pauses between each — but lots of white wine and 
 St. Julien to drink, and perpetual drinking of 
 toasts, standing up and clinking glasses, and crying, 
 "Hoch!'' 
 
 Then came a dreadful thing. You must eat it for 
 the Grossmutter selbst made it, and was with the 
 cook (or in the kitchen, I don't know which, the 
 words are so near alike) twelve hours, — and if you 
 eat it at Christmas you have viel Geld all the 
 year. Herring Salad, — a spatted-down, chopped-up, 
 worked-over, messy fearful combination of poor sar- 
 dines and beets and raisins and pickle and oil, and 
 perhaps veal, bologna sausage, etc., etc. 
 
 Must be helped twice. It reminded me of the 
 Llassan wedding and your pocket. The elder Hark- 
 mudt youth rose and made this speech, " Ladies and 
 Gentlemen, inasmuch as it has been insinuated that 
 I and my brother have stated that we feared that the 
 Herring Salad this year would not be equal to the 
 Herring Salad of previous years, I wish to pronounce 
 this a foul slander, and to declare that I never 
 doubted for an instant the continued prowess of the 
 Grossmutter in making Herring Salad; and that 
 now, having tasted the Herring Salad, I assert that 
 it is the Best Herring Salad that the Grossmutter 
 has ever made, and I propose again the health of the 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 117 
 
 Grossmutter.^^ Most of the yoiinkers got up and 
 ran to clink glasses with the G. M. and they all 
 yelled " Herring Salad ! " Herring Salad is the 
 Marlborough Pie of the family evidently. Was it 
 not delightful ? This is only an instance of the 
 speeches and jeers. 
 
 ISText came a regular piece of roast beef sirloin, 
 deliciously roasted, which the Brautigam cut up, 
 after which the great slices were passed round. It 
 tasted awful good — for I have n't had any real beef 
 here. What they call beefsteak is a kind of croquet, 
 it seems to me. We ate it with potato and gravy and 
 pickles, and " Compot," which is Sarce of different 
 kinds, in a little plate at the side. 
 
 That was all. Is it not funny this not having any 
 pudding course ? 
 
 By this time the Frommenac, with much urging, 
 had consented to sing — ah, no ; — but the little 
 Willy got tired and left the table and he came and 
 got me to look at his tin soldiers. In fact he was 
 perfectly devoted to me and there was a general 
 move. Erau and Herr went off and made the punch 
 in the kitchen, then we all came back to the table, 
 sat helter-skelter about and drank the punch, which 
 was good and very strong, with much clinking of 
 glasses. Then the Frammenac sang in another room, 
 not previously opened, which was rather in a clutter ; 
 but the piano was there. She sang lovely German 
 words with a fine contralto voice, in a bawling style 
 too dramatic for' a parlour. Then it was eleven 
 o'clock, and we came away, though they urged us to 
 stay; but our Stout Marie and Elise were waiting 
 for us in the kitchen. We parted on the doorstep 
 with the simple English expression, " Did you ever ! " 
 
 When I got home, lo, on my table was a great dish 
 full of PfefferJcuchen, apples, nuts, and candy ; — 
 and besides sweet gifts from the Companions. They 
 
118 
 
 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 have also trifles from me. So it was quite late when 
 I got to bed, and I felt this morning rather Katzen- 
 jammerische. 
 
 To-day is the real Christmas — but you see these 
 doings are all for "Heilige Abend." There are, how- 
 ever, three " Fest Tage " which they call 1st, 2nd, 3rd. 
 This is Zweite — people go to church and have some 
 particular thing for dinner; — and all these three 
 days the shops are shut. But the great time is 
 Heilige Abend. 
 
 That is about all and I must now go and dress for 
 Erau V. M.'s. If I had time, of course, I should be 
 low — for these Anniversaries are very bad; but I 
 hope you are all having an 
 amusing and pleasant time. 
 I 'm glad there is no German 
 for " Merry Christmas ! " as 
 it w'd be likely to stick in the 
 throat. They have no form 
 of greeting for the day appar- 
 ently. Guten-hje, lots of 
 love. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Maey B. Diksmook 
 Weimar, February 19, 1873. 
 
 MY DEAR DINSMOOE, The 
 
 only superiority of these 
 stoves over our regisr 
 ters is that you can 
 flatten yourself up 
 against them in all 
 your length and breadth, as it were upon the breast 
 of the beloved, when cold, or low in the mind. In 
 this latter condition, as I thus clung just now to this 
 
STUDYING AKT IN EUROPE 119 
 
 poor exchange for a sympathetic bosom, I must think, 
 " What would the Constituents say to see me now ? " 
 The idea was sufficient to make me depict the scene 
 for you. I can't imagine a more forlorn image. But 
 she would travel! The best way really is to flatten 
 your back to it. 
 
 Later: I have had my nap, and had my coffee 
 with the widows, but I don't know whether I am suffi- 
 ciently in force to write out my long-, for you, con- 
 sidered essay on " Why I don't like Germany." I '11 
 
 try it and see, always premising you know that I 
 might write another, '^ Why I do like it." But this 
 is the 
 
 Don't 
 
 In the first place, the Bed. You have none of you 
 any true conception of it, and Lucretia has hinted 
 that she thinks she might like it, — not she ! There 's 
 a total absence of tuck in to the German bed, which, 
 no effort can remedy, and I have spoiled my best 
 nail trying for it in vain. (By the way they take 
 not the slightest interest in finger nails.) Lucretia 
 thinks she would like the feather bed on top, but the 
 thing is, it is so very on top, while underneath 
 every blast of heaven howls and whistles all night, 
 as they do round Park Street corner. First comes 
 a sort of cold flap- jack, too small and stiff to tuck 
 down, and on top the feather bed. The picture seems 
 not clear. 
 
120 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 a is the feather bed; h, the cold flap-jack; c, a 
 vacuum visited bj the winds of heaven ; d, the Victim. 
 
 I may add that this preparation is just the thing 
 for chillblains, and that we are all suffering there- 
 with the torments of the d d. In the morning 
 
 I am awaked, in this receptacle, by the clatter of the 
 door. I sleep in a little dark closet, but that I like, 
 — 'the little door stands open into the big room, and 
 Frau Baier, Morgen fruli, comes in to make the fire. 
 Her idea is to do it softly. Her first care is to shut 
 the little door, which has a peculiar squawk only 
 attainable in Germany. She then clatters away at 
 the fire and leaves. There 's a clumsy great lock on 
 the big door and a handle like a stop-cock which 
 kills your hand and spoils your glove. In about ten 
 minutes Mrs. Baier comes in again to look at the 
 fire, and goes out again. In about five minutes Mrs. 
 Baier comes in to get my boots to clean. After five 
 minutes more she comes in to bring back my boots. 
 That is all she comes, unless she forgets something, 
 in which case she comes once for each thing she for- 
 gets. Oh, no, let me tell you, she opens the little 
 door with a squeak and comes into my closet and 
 stealthily takes my water pitcher to fill, and brings 
 it back with another squeak and clatter. 
 
 Quarter of an hour later Elise begins. She don't 
 practise stealthiness, but advisedly makes as much 
 noise as possible. You 'd think it was somebody fall- 
 ing off a house with a sewing-machine and a trunk, 
 five stxDries into the street, — but it 's only Elise with 
 my bath-tub, — a regular wash-tub, which by great 
 persistence I have attained to, although all Weimar 
 thinks me insane, and Mrs. Baier, wherever we go, 
 tells that I wash myself all over in cold water every 
 morning. " Yes," said an elderly lady last evening, 
 " when one is so gewohnt it is necessary. I used to 
 wash myself once but I have got over it — " much as 
 
STUDYING AKT m EUROPE 121 
 
 you 'd speak of a person who, having acquired the 
 fatal habit of smoking, is obliged to leave it off 
 gradually, and not of a sudden. I don't mean to say 
 but what they are clean and neat enough, — as a 
 general thing I think they always wash their faces 
 once a day and their hands, say, twice a week, when 
 they are going to a party, but not so often with soap. 
 
 Well, Elise bangs the tub down at the foot of the 
 bed, stops and takes a good stare at me, and goes off. 
 Shuts the little door, squeak ; shuts big door, clatter. 
 Comes back with a pail full of water, and da capo, — 
 stare, shut little door, squeak, shut big door, clatter. 
 Third time, second pail of water, squeak, clatter. 
 
 When I am pretty sure the coast is clear I come 
 out, draw to the little door and proceed to bathe. It 
 is generally then that the postman comes. Walks in 
 (to the big room only) without knocking, and leaves 
 letter on the table. My dear, they never any of them 
 knock ! and I can't teach them to. I can only suppose 
 that the reason is that they are determined to come 
 in whether I want them to or not, and therefore think 
 knocking a useless affectation; for if the door is 
 locked they stand rattling away at the handle until 
 I come out of bed, or bath, or nap, or whatever, and 
 let them in. That 's a bother, so now I have given 
 up locking the door. All my party have had the 
 same experience. 
 
 While I am still in the tub, Elise comes again with 
 my coffee ; and this is very nice, that throwing on 
 a few clothes I now come out, sip my coffee, munch 
 my bread and rejoice in my letters. This would 
 be delightful, but — in walks Mrs. Biber — without 
 knocking — and always at a different time, so you 
 never can tell when to be girded up for her, — per- 
 haps I am stark naked, in which case she says, " Ach! 
 das schadet nichts!^^ aher it does schaden for me; 
 for although, as you are well aware, I am somewhat 
 
122 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 loose about clothes, I will not converse with a German 
 woman in her own tongue, without any. She is a 
 dear woman, you know, and I am very fond of her, 
 but so trying in the morning, when one is just stag- 
 gering under the renewed burden of life. Lucretia 
 would go mad. 
 
 " Ach! liebes Frdulein! how hot it is here." 
 
 " Oh, do you think so," says Susan, feebly ; " I 
 have only just shut the window. I thought it was 
 too cool." 
 
 " Nein, it is too hot." 
 
 Or, on the other hand, 
 
 "AchI liebes Fraidehi; how imprudent! You 
 have the window open. It is here schrecklich 
 cold." 
 
 "Is it ? I thought it was hot and opened the 
 window." 
 
 "Nein, it is cold, hose Frdulein! ^^ and she goes 
 and shuts the window and piles on more coal. 
 
 My dear, there 's a finality about this German 
 Nein that is appalling. That young man, you know, 
 that learned to say, " JSTo," has been a good deal 
 cracked up, but our " No " is no negation at all com- 
 pared to this " Nein " they have here. I 've got so 
 sensitive about it that I try to frame my sentences 
 so that they can't answer with "Nein.'' It comes 
 like a bucket of cold water over the most innocent 
 inquiry. " It 's quite muddy to-day, don't you think 
 so ? " 
 
 " Nein! It is not muddy ; it is dry." 
 
 I never saw anything like the point-blank way they 
 contradict each other as well as me. We have a civil 
 question mark after our "No" (nicht walir?), which 
 allows some reprieve — but the Germans say, " Nein.'' 
 See that Period ? that 's the end of that subject, — 
 there's no appeal. Tell them anything about Amer- 
 ica, — how many inhabitants in New York, etc. 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 123 
 
 " Nein . . . das ist nicht moglich.'^ And that settles 
 it. AchI a narrow-minded people. 
 
 She gets come up with occasionally and then I 'm 
 delighted, — for yon know I never can discuss, and 
 I leave her always witli her Nein. The other day I 
 was rushing off to the theatre, and she asked me to 
 wait for her as she was going out. 
 
 " Mit Vergnugen, Hebe Frau, only it is a little 
 late." 
 
 " Nein, it is not late." So I waited. 
 
 " Liebe Frau, perhaps you mil allow me to say 
 that your clock is slow." 
 . " Nein, it is not slow." 
 
 " Aber, liehe Frau, excuse me for mentioning it, 
 but on account of Gertrude being late for school, I 
 thought you would like to know." 
 
 " Nein, your watch goes ever vor." 
 
 " Yes, that is true, but for that reason I watch my 
 watch." 
 
 "Nein, you never know the right time." 
 
 " Excuse me^ liebe Frau, but I have every day my 
 Fenster auf, in order to set my watch by the tovna. 
 clock." 
 
 " Nein, you cannot hear the only clock that is right 
 from your window." 
 
 Very well, we let it go. 
 
 The next day, Gertrude came howling and weep- 
 ing back from school, at quarter-past nine, because 
 she was late! and the door was shut. The penalties 
 here are something fearful. At dinner that day, 
 Mrs. Biber said, " Only think, Gertrude was late 
 to-day ! ! My clock goes back ! I can't think what 
 ails it ! ! " Not the slightest reference to my warn- 
 ing! I didn't say, " Told you so." 
 
 Time to go to the theatre, my dear, and my tirade 
 comes to an untimely close. You will think my 
 trials too trivial to detail ; but these things make up 
 
124 LETTERS OF SUSAN^ HALE 
 
 the Sinn of human life. I wonder if George had a 
 similar impression! 
 
 Next morning: I see, my best Dinsmoor, that I 
 got led away from my Essay to discuss that fatal 
 " Nein.^^ I had meant to give you a faithful picture 
 of the strict surveillance under which I am kept by 
 my widow. It would enrage me more, only that it 
 amuses us all so much to see me in harness. Fullum 
 and Rebecca would froth at the mouth to see that 
 control, which, even they have had only partial suc- 
 cess in attaining over me, completely exercised by 
 this small German female! It can't last, and even 
 now I occasionally break loose. But that makes the 
 rein tighter afterward. 
 
 Good-bye, lots of love. I hope there 's a letter 
 from you on the way. 
 
 Always yours, 
 Susie Hale. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Beuxelles, Tuesday p. m., June 3, 1873. 
 {Finished much later.) 
 MY dear ceeche, — How much I think of you in 
 my room here. It looks so much like our dear Hotel 
 du Rhin up at the top, althougK of course not like 
 that. Brussels is a heavenly tovai, my dear. I like 
 it better than any I have seen! How odd that one 
 takes a fancy or dislike to a town, just like people, 
 at the first glance. I couldn't abide Antwerp. 
 Brussels is a Corrected and Improved Edition of 
 Paris, for the pocket, with the impurities omitted. 
 It seems as much like Paris as Boston does like Lon- 
 don, and that's a great deal. My adventures, of 
 course, are amazing. Seems as if I must begin on 
 to-day, and write backwards, but of course it would 
 be better to begin at the Departure from England. 
 
STUDYI^^G AET 11^ EUROPE 125 
 
 That leaves a gap of the Derby ! ! ! ! I know — but 
 I can't help that. Put that in a postscript in an- 
 other letter. But to-day has been such a clay ! l^oth- 
 ing could be lovelier than the alacrity of the Stevens 
 at getting me off. I do love them both. . . . But 
 this is a long chapter and has no place in this travel 
 journal. B. F. is just the dearest and kindest man 
 in the world. I can't conceive what tempted him to 
 do so much for me. The fact was they liked me. It 
 seems odd ; but it was very convenient. 
 
 On Sunday mom, I rose betimes to finish that 
 packing which had been sadly neglected in the hurry 
 of Saturday (see History of that day, as yet unwrit). 
 You see I left my trunk in London ! ! and am 
 launched upon the Continent with only my portman- 
 teau and shawl-strap. This is because it is insup- 
 portable paying Extra Baggage for all our party. I 
 have set the example and all have agreed to do like- 
 wise. I paid ten cents yesterday for my Extra B. ! 
 That is worth while. (There is something laughable 
 about pens connected with this letter, but it don't 
 pay to write it; but I sympathise with your stiff 
 one.) I don't get on at all in the narrative. 
 
 Got well packed, both to leave and take, before 
 breakfast — a dear breakfast; Mrs. S. plucked the 
 first rose in the garden to give me at parting. Mr. S. 
 to the station. Met one of his young men at Lon- 
 don. More about the getting to the wharf, very in- 
 teresting, but must be omitted here. At last the 
 Baron Ozy was underweigh, — from the very Kather- 
 ine's wharf where I landed, on a Monday morning, 
 six weeks ago ! Dear me, what a good time I 've 
 had in England ; I think the best in my life ! Eor 
 quiet, easy, do-what-you-like-a-tiveness, you know. 
 
 Well, that 's over now — I was rather blue, steam- 
 ing do^vn the Thames, especially as it rained, and 
 one could n't stay on deck, and the dinner was nasty, 
 
126 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 at one o'clock, only I sate next a very dear German 
 of about fifty-five summers with whom I talked first 
 in German and afterwards in English. ... I must 
 tell you that my German has been fifteen years in 
 India ; — he has come home because he is losing his 
 sight, and he can't see to read. He spoke pathetic 
 broken English; and told me finally that he got a 
 letter the last thing on leaving England, which he 
 could not read! Of course I offered to read it to 
 him, and blundered through the crabbed German 
 handwriting to his satisfaction. Honour, of course, 
 forbids my mentioning the contents ; but, perhaps, I 
 may add, that they were not at all interesting. 
 
 When we arrived at Antwerp, I didn't know ex- 
 actly what to do. That's the bother of travelling, 
 however well you '' know the ropes " at one place, at 
 the next, it's entirely different. Lots of sort of 
 ouvriers came on board, and I poked one and told 
 him, in French, I wanted a carriage to go to the 
 Hotel de I'Europe. He said " tres hien/' took my 
 things, and walked off, with me behind. But he kept 
 walking and walking after we got on land, without 
 stopping at any cab, and I saw it was his idea to 
 walk to the hotel. That seemed very well, if it was 
 not far ; I was only afraid we should not arrive with 
 sufficient eclat. But after a brief walk, we walked 
 into the courtyard of the hotel ; the landlady received 
 me with the usual cordiality, and took me to a room. 
 She spoke French well enough. The spire of the 
 Cathedral was just outside my window. She said 
 if Madame liked, the ceremony of Woggle-woggle 
 was about to commence in the eglise, perhaps Madame 
 would like to hear the music, which was very fine. 
 So Madame, just as I was, went into the Cathedral — 
 where is a masterpiece of Rubens, and quite pretty 
 for him — and then heard a wonderful ceremony; 
 beautiful music by boys and instruments, and three 
 
STUDYING ART IN EUROPE 127 
 
 priests like boiled lobsters with fluted skirts doing 
 higher jinks than I ever saw before. It appeared 
 as if they were rather tired, but planning charades 
 to amuse the people, which they did from time to 
 time, when boys in white night gowns put other wraps 
 over them — and it was more like magical music, 
 when they all tried kneeling, and seizing candles, and 
 running round with books; and when they did the 
 right thing, the music suddenly stopped and rang a 
 bell. At last they thought they would play " button- 
 button," and came down among the audience with 
 hands together for that purpose, and then they went 
 back and took coffee, as it were, from the boys in 
 night gowns, and helped themselves to sugar. But 
 that was incense, I know, for I smelt it. 
 
 Great Interruption 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 A summer in Europe with Rev. Edward E. Hale, his 
 daughter. Miss Ellen Day Hale, and Miss Mar- 
 garet Marquand, 1882 — Visit to Frederick E. 
 Church, the painter, at his home on the Hudson 
 River, in 1884, — Trip to Mexico with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Church in 1885 — Summer at Matunuck, 
 1885 — Mexico again in 1886, with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Church, their daughter and Charles Dudley 
 Warner. 
 
 (1882-1886) 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Seville, Tuesday, May 23, 1882. 
 
 Oh, mj dear ! We are sitting in our big room that 
 looks out on a real Damascus courtyard. Molly is 
 drawing the opposite corner of it from our long 
 window, — where she sees a doorway and a railing 
 with flowers, and some going up-stairs — and ISTelly 
 has just finished in charcoal a lion which is part of 
 the ornament of the railing. Below is a fountain 
 with goldfish, and a great banana-tree with bending- 
 over fruit; the walls are whitewashed except where 
 they felt like painting them bright blue in spots. 
 
 Such is the Hotel de I'Europe where we arrived at 
 nine this morning; but I must seat you there and go 
 back to my last date, if I can thinly what that was. 
 Oh, there is a great manola (magnolia) in a tum- 
 bler, which I bought just now in the street, about as 
 big as two hands put together. I think I shut up 
 my last, Friday p. m. That day Mr. Reed, the 
 charge d'affaires, called, a very pleasant man, ador- 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 129 
 
 ing James Lowell. He urged us to call on Mrs. 
 Hamlin in the ev'g (letters having been delivered, 
 etc.), and we went after dinner. It seemed so con- 
 sular, my dear, to go up two flights of chalky stairs, 
 ring bells and be sho^vn into a yellow damask apart- 
 ment with a round divan in the middle ! Mrs. Ham- 
 lin is a very agreeable woman (from Maine), easy, 
 pretty, and cordial ; I guess glad to see " Americans " 
 as amenable as we were. And Papa Hamlin, a dear 
 worthy old gent, much farther on in years than 
 she. . . . She offered to take us to drive — which 
 di4 not occur till Simday, as it rained Sat. I may 
 here say that though we have lovely weather enough 
 to do everything, it is continually raining in burst- 
 ing showers. People say, as at Cairo, that it never 
 rains in Spain. It is good, for everything is fresh. 
 
 Well, on Saturday, we felt equal to the Gallery. 
 You must know we stayed longer in Madrid than 
 we had meant, for several reasons, first, that our 
 rooms were very pleasant, and second, that we were 
 enchanted with M. It is so gay, so crowded, and 
 amusing, utterly unlike Paris or any other capital 
 we know. The pictures are perfectly satisfactory. 
 Think of me liking them ; what a reform ! ! But we 
 were very judicious. The Museo Reale is an im- 
 mense place like the Louvre, reeking with long pas- 
 sages and rotundas ; we flew at once to the Velasquez 
 and Murillos, and hard by to the Salon Isabel II 
 which (like the Salon Carre) contains gems. I will 
 write more about the pictures later, for we are going 
 back to Madrid, — suffice it to say that the Velasquez 
 are all they ought to be. The great horses on which 
 Isabella and Philip sit are lifelike and the portraits 
 of Philip IV wonderful. Don't care so much for the 
 Murillos. They are more like the ones we have seen, 
 but we haven't seen any Velasquez till now, worth 
 speaking of. 
 
130 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Molly was rejoiced to see that p. m. tlie King going 
 to church. He required three glass coaches drawn 
 by six horses each, and a cortege of twenty sort of 
 Arabs on horseback wrapped in white with spears. 
 For even Madrid seemed Moorish — but, oh, lor! 
 nothing to this that follows, I mean Andalusia, etc. 
 
 On Sunday there was a bull-fight, as usual. ISTow 
 we do not attend bull-fights; but Mrs. Hamlin, after 
 a pretty drive on the Buen Retiro Paseo, took us 
 to the B. F. place to see the crowds as they came out. 
 It looked for all the world like a cattle show. The 
 great amphitheatre is a cheap modern building, not 
 exactly Yankee looking with windows ; but the crowds 
 and omnibuses waiting were like those at a fair, — 
 and when they all came streaming out it was very 
 amusing. The picadors (not being dead) rode forth 
 on their horses, looking just as they do in pictures. 
 The King was n't there, so he did n't come out. This 
 lasted so long that it was after seven when we got 
 back to our hotel, through streets packed with people 
 waiting to see us (and the King) return from the 
 bull-fight. Our dinner was waiting, our train was to 
 go in half an hour ! I mean our cabs to the train. 
 
 But we were all packed, and Papa Edward on 
 hand champing the bit and stimulating the prepara- 
 tion of the addition and with rather a scrimmagio, 
 we got to the gare, the baggage was weighed, but let 
 me tell you, by dint of moving myself into Molly's 
 trunk, and leaving most of our mutual effects at 
 Madrid, the scales now announce no extra baggage ! 
 a great relief to our purse. . . . 
 
 Another night in the train — but this time we had 
 a herlina, which was that coupe you and I came to 
 Marseilles in, back to the horses. We slept pretty 
 well, and had great fun tumbling out in the middle 
 of the night at a fonda (buffet) where we had thick 
 chocolate and flat sponge-cakes, the latter being all 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUN^UCK 131 
 
 there was for spoons, with w^hich we dipped up the 
 thick stuff and ate. A ruffian stuck all over like a 
 pin-cushion with knives of a lovely sort. We all 
 bought them. You will be delighted with mine, it 
 is so Moorish. We must appear like maniacs to more 
 sedate travellers ; there is no adventure that we stick 
 at, nor form of language ; and we are all so jolly. . . . 
 
 But why do I dally before the delights of Cordova 
 where we passed yesterday, — the weirdest kind of a 
 day. Arrived about 10 a. m.. Were driven through 
 a wholly new kind of town, with crooked white- 
 washed streets, — now beginning to look a little like 
 some of Alexandria — but tiled, not flat roofs. The 
 bus stuck between the two sides of the street once, 
 and wormed itself through with difficulty. After 
 Almuerzo (whereby hangs a tale) we Avent with a 
 Moor, the only Arabe now left in Cordova! who 
 speaks French, to see the wonderful mosque, with its 
 one thousand marble pillars, arched with striped red 
 and white ; the nasty old Christians have spoiled it 
 by thrusting in a whole chapel in the middle, at 
 which Charles V was wroth, but didn't make them 
 take it out again. Here we began our acquaintance 
 face to face with the dear Moors and all their works : 
 and of course it reminds of Cairo, etc., but this 
 mosque is miles beyond those we saw in the East, 
 in sculpture, it is bereft of almost all mosaic and 
 tracery, except in one or two lovely spots. 
 
 We walked back through the middle of the crooked 
 whitewashed streets, meeting an occasional donkey, 
 but few other inhabitants; stopping a long time at 
 a garden like all those in the Arabian !N^ights, with 
 fountains, carp ponds, steps and arbours, and all 
 blooming with scarlet pomegrcmates ! ! roses, jasmine, 
 the young figs on the trees not ripe; but a strange 
 fruit like a persimmon, which they let us eat. This 
 garden is on the place of the ruined palace of the 
 
132 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Moorish kings, with a few traces left — and from a 
 vine-hung (in blossom) sort of turret, we looked 
 down on the Guadalquivir, a bridge built by Romans, 
 and some Arab mills. 
 
 Now you must know that at breakfast a stout man 
 sate opposite me with his wife, with whom we had 
 no traffic, until I took a piece of cheese and began to 
 eat it, before engaging upon an orange. The man 
 now accosted me and said in French that it was dan- 
 gerous to do that, as they did not join well in the 
 stomach. This began a friendly conversation, which 
 was continued by an invitation to his jardin to see 
 his strawberry beds — and it ended in our passing 
 a long p. M. in his lovely garden. He is a most dear 
 man, jefe of mecaniciens to the R. R. — Alsacien, but 
 his wife from Malaga speaks only Spanish. If you 
 could have seen us all, hobnobbing in these languages, 
 — and receiving handsful of the most delicious fat 
 roses, jasmines, orange-blossoms, gillyflowers, lark- 
 spurs, pansies, all the time the beaming man telling 
 us how he loved to have us see his garden, and his 
 strawberry bed, which bears all the year round. It 
 was not such a very big garden, you know, but very- 
 pretty, with a fountain in the middle. Our inter- 
 preter was there, the Arahe, who stayed round to 
 come in for his share of the fun. The Signora, his 
 wife, a stout lady with a velo on her head, beamed 
 and essayed hospitalities in Spanish which we strove 
 with might and main to comprehend. A muchacha 
 was set to gather strawberries ; and by and by when 
 we struggled to get away we were led into the worthy 
 house, where was a piano, which they forced me to 
 play on, while a hasty repast of fruit was prepared. 
 We then sate round and partook. The strawberries 
 are small and delicious here, — wide and in profu- 
 sion. His especially so. He took great oranges from 
 his o^vn tree, cut them in two, and squeezed them like 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 133 
 
 a sponge, over the strawberries witli lots of sugar. 
 This is the true way to eat both. Hb then brought 
 out wine of his own making from his own grapes. 
 The others thought it horrid stuff, and it was n't first 
 class. We all touched glasses, and sipped ; and finally 
 got away with mutual expressions of regard. You 
 can't imagine what a dear, stout, radiant man he was ; 
 and he seemed to act as if we were the only people 
 he had ever loved. Wasn't this an amazing ad- 
 venture. 
 
 And now, most dead; for you see we had had no 
 beds the night before ; we came back to the hotel, and 
 went betimes to bed — to rise at four this a. m. to 
 get off at six — reached here at nine, through a de- 
 licious road lined with agaves, apparently made of 
 tin and painted, but really real things with tall can- 
 dlesticks for blossoms looking like asparagus the size 
 of telegraph-poles ; oleander in blossom, fluffy yellow 
 acacia, etc., etc. — and are just settling here for a 
 week or so. I send this off in haste. 
 
 Your Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Granada^ Sunday, June Jp, 1882. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — I'm really feeling so very English 
 that I 'ope you '11 be able to see the truly English 
 eccent through me writing even ; for you know there 
 are several English in the 'ouse 'ere, and among 
 others a lady all hung about with silver beads, which 
 everybody is wearing at present, and rings on all her 
 fingars, — indeed, I dessay, bells upon her toes, you 
 know. I was eating strawberries and sugar, with 
 orange squeezed on them, and as I was in the very 
 ed of squeezing the orange, she said, looking me full 
 in the face — 
 
 " That must be very nasty ! " 
 
134 LETTERS OF SUSAis^ HALE 
 
 " On the contrary," said I, '' I assure you that if 
 it were nasty, I should not do it ; it is very nice." 
 
 But she is really no great part of Granada — 
 which is truly ravishing. ... 
 
 But, oh, my dear! we have reached the heavenly 
 culmination of our trip, — for Granada is the dream 
 of Aladdin's Lamp, — and a lovely place to be in 
 for June. Let me say, also, if I haven't, that we 
 have had no bugs, nor fleas, nor flies, nor dust, nor 
 bad food, any of the time. A smell or two, for those 
 who seek them; — but Spain must be greatly im- 
 proved since the complaints were made. As for heat, 
 it is cold enough here for woollen clothes, and 
 blankets at night; for it is over two thousand feet 
 high — about like Crawf ords, White Mountains, and 
 a cool, fresh, brilliant air, that makes us sleep like 
 dogs. Snow on the Sierra Nevada, opposite us. 
 Thermometer 72°, Edward says, as I write. 
 
 Well: at Malaga we called on Marquis de Casa 
 Loring, Banker, who is uncle to Seraphina Loring 
 (ask Bursleys). He has an enchanting Alonzo Cano 
 "Virgin and Child," and many other fine pictures, 
 and bits of rare china. He seemed to like us, and our 
 praise of his pictures, and promised me a photograph 
 of the Alonzo Cano; but alas! it didn't come, and 
 we think, perhaps, it was a Spanish compliment. 
 The Cathedral at Malaga is deteriorated in style, but 
 contains a beautiful Cano ; — Nelly and I are setting 
 up a great ardour for his work — and a fine Herrera, 
 of St. Anthony dying. 
 
 The road to Granada is wonderful ; the railway 
 lately built, so that the Welds and other constituents 
 have n't seen it. It crosses great ranges of mountains 
 in tunnels innumerable; these tunnels have gaps 
 which flash upon you suddenly, a cliff and a gorge, 
 of great size and bright orange colour with purple 
 shadows — very exciting. We arrived at eight, down 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 135 
 
 in the towTi ; our nice Juan, who is still with us, put 
 us in a kind of omnibus like a sleigh on wheels, and 
 merrily jingling mules rattled us up a very steep hill, 
 through a narrow street, to the top, which is a won- 
 derful place like Catskill even for height — and 
 here the huge grounds of the Alhambra, which it 
 seems is not only a palace but a fortress, — whose 
 walls enclose quite a little city; and outside these 
 walls are the two hotels, like great White Mountain 
 hotels, extensive and pretentious, with their own gar- 
 dens and fountains, and stained glass windows, and 
 white-choked waiters. Our landlord is most friendly, 
 and. after the first night, which we passed in a kind 
 of turret, in red-walled rooms, with barred windows 
 overlooking a hanging garden, he transferred us to 
 a higher up but larger suite, where we have home- 
 like, delightful rooms ; one, a big salon of a catty- 
 cornered description, with windows looking all sorts 
 of ways upon orange-coloured ruins. Oh my ! it is 
 delicious. And the nightingale really bulbuls all 
 night long ! It appears he is the male bird, who sits 
 and sings all the time while Mrs. is on the nest hatch- 
 ing the eggs. We think it is very friendly of him, 
 and something like reading her the Transcript o' 
 nights, and quite different from the Bulbul accosting 
 the Rose, or Philomela lamenting her lost state. 
 
 Here we are content to let the time slip by as it 
 will. There is everything to sketch, only it takes so 
 much lake and Indian yellow. The grounds are open 
 to all — broad roads leading up and around the walls 
 and castles, with tall trees, thickly shading them, and 
 streams of rushing water everywhere (like Damas- 
 cus), being the Darro and Genii, which the Moors 
 made to irrigate things. 
 
 . We have been through the lovely Alhambra palace, 
 and were there by moonlight. The lions are very 
 worthy in the Court. The Moors didn't know how 
 
136 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 to make them very well, so they are quite chunky. 
 But the tracery and arches, and the views from win- 
 dows are exquisite. The style like the Alcazar, only 
 more so; and we are glad we saw that first. From 
 these windows we look down a steep precipice, and 
 across at the Sierra l^evada (eleven thousand feet) 
 with snow on it; water rushes, tall cypresses stick 
 up, and the white town of Granada is below. There 
 are lots of different towers and gardens, which we 
 have not yet begun to see; but we mean to be here 
 some time. 
 
 At the table d'hote are some quite amusing, agree- 
 able people. The season is over (as usual when I 
 reach any place) so there are but few other inmates. 
 Yesterday we drove to the Cathedral in the town; 
 it is Spanish and fine; and bought at a shop a few 
 Spanish characteristic things. There are three cats 
 in the Cathedral. Much love from all. 
 
 Yr. Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 The Sheaves, Suebiton, Monday morning, 
 September 25, 1882. 
 DEAR LUC, — Such poEcc ! Everything here just 
 as I left it, June 1, 1873. Dog a few years older, 
 all of us a little stouter, more ivy against the house, 
 if possible; the house, too, has grown, for they have 
 added an L. My old jokes still remembered and 
 quoted, and the welcome as cordial as possible. The 
 only danger is, a creeping sense of settling down now 
 to take all the tired of the whole summer, instead of 
 waiting till I crawl into my own hole wherever it may 
 prove to be. That won't do ; must brace up and run 
 the machine well into the station first. Don't fancy 
 that I 'm used up in the least, by this line of remark, 
 only you know the sense of repose that comes on after 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 137 
 
 travelling. As soon as B. F. Stevens turned to the 
 porter and said, " Take these boxes to the Sheaves " 
 (instead of my doing it), I gave in my Nunc Dimit- 
 tis. We were tired, too, for we had a wild week in 
 London, perfectly delicious. I can't think of any- 
 thing better conducted. You know Molly and I had 
 the whole top-story at Mrs. Alflatt's. Every morn- 
 ing Eliza brought my bath, and 'ot water for Molly ; 
 'alf an 'our afterwards we came down and found a 
 nice little breakfast and the newspaper. As soon as 
 we could afterwards, we sallied forth, looked in on 
 !N^elly, and then took bus for our affairs. . . . 
 
 For Monday, after breakfast, Molly and I took our 
 first bus and rode to Piccadilly Circus. ... As soon 
 as we reached Trafalgar Square we were received 
 into Stevens's arms; he was real nice, and so glad 
 to see me that nothing much ensued but a long im- 
 mense talk in which he thoroughly shrived himself. 
 So at one he just put us on top of a bus (which Mrs. 
 Merritt thinks very shocking, perhaps you 'd better 
 not mention it) and we came back to Nelly's lunch. 
 Her studio is awfully nice. It is such a pity she 
 can't take it to America. When we got home we 
 found the vouchers for our stalls at the Lyceum thea- 
 tre, which I had written for. Molly now rested while 
 I put on war paint, and ISTelly and I took hansom to 
 Mrs. Alma-Tadema's p. m. tea, which Mrs. Howells 
 had given us cards for. For now I see I forgot to 
 say that Sunday p. m. Nelly and I went to Pelham 
 Crescent to call on the Howells, and that Sunday 
 evening Mr. H. called on me. They are just done 
 with London, and were leaving the next morning, 
 very jolly^ delighted with London, themselves, and 
 the world in general. The C. D. Warners dropped 
 in at Mrs. Howell's, very friendly, in gorgeous 
 clothes, being just on their way home. 
 
 So we went to the Alma-Tademas', a sweet aesthetic 
 
138 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 house on Kegents' Park, and tkere was Mrs. A.-T., 
 my first real sesthete. Oh, my! Her gown was 
 strainer cloth worked with Holbein stitch. It was 
 cut half low, with hunchy sleeves; a bow of faded 
 maroony lilac, such as used to be in the ribbon-bag 
 in the Hamilton Place entry-closet, at the front, and 
 a double row of beads of somewhat the same colour ; 
 her tawny hair was scruffed in front and knotted 
 low behind. She is very handsome, and all this was 
 very becoming, and her manners were simj)le and 
 charming, and, in fact, made you feel, in that house, 
 that she was all right, and we were all wrong, espe- 
 cially Mrs. C. D. Warner (who again came in with 
 Mr. C. D.), who was all got up in peacock blue and 
 bangles from Paris. The two gawky daughters of 
 Alma-T. did n't become their aesthetic clothes so well, 
 but they were well bred and pleasant. The only other 
 person there, was Millet, our little Frank Millet of 
 Boston and 'New York. The A.-T.'s affect and en- 
 courage Americans. Square cups of tea were in- 
 stantly served, which we drank out of the comers; 
 and then Mrs. A.-T. let us go up to the Studio, 
 although it was not a show day, as Mr. A.-T. is away. 
 
 And in the evening, we saw Irving and Ellen 
 Terry in " Romeo and Juliet," perfectly enchanting, 
 the scenery absolutely faultless, but I must leave that 
 till I get home. . . . 
 
 All my sketches (fiity) are at Winsor and E^ew- 
 ton's being mounted. I guess they are horrid. 
 
 Always yrs., 
 S. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 [Boston], Friday, December 15, 1882. 
 CAROLINE, DEAE, — I got the picturc ! I don't 
 know if we can do anything with it, but it seemed 
 a waste to let go all that good paint, paper, and frame 
 
EUEOPE, MEXICO, MATUXUCK 139 
 
 for twenty dollars. It is much loaded with gouache, 
 which will make it hard to meddle with. 
 
 Now let me describe my truly American Adven- 
 tures in the Expedition. Of course my couturiere 
 called before I finished breakfast, to be instructed 
 in ripping and remaking my old brown skirt; but I 
 got rid of her, and dressed, on the doorstep at nine- 
 twenty. I say " dressed," but of course my gloves 
 were in my hand, my purse in my muff, my door-key 
 in my mouth, and my handkerchief at my nose; so 
 that when the postman came and thrust a letter at 
 me, there seemed no good place to put that, but I 
 squeezed it betw^een my muff and my stomach. 
 
 A car came along, and I climbed up on it with 
 difficulty, to find it was jam full and people sticking 
 out of the doors and windows, — so I had to stand 
 outside amid the jeers of the populace, and the severe 
 invitation of the conductor to "step inside." This 
 I would gladly have done but that there was no inside 
 to step to, it being au grand complet. When we 
 swung round the corner I nearly fell off, for you will 
 remember I had no hand to spare to hold on by ; and 
 thus became an object of loathing to the other men 
 on the platform who didn't want me. Before we 
 reached West Street the car stopped. "What 's this ?" 
 asked a man. " Wal," said the conductor, " I guess 
 the horses are tired." As they seemed likely to re- 
 main tired, I alighted. It was a pretty even thing 
 all the way to Winter Street; and the race was in- 
 teresting to those inside the car. At Winter Street 
 they got the advantage, for / had no third horse to 
 get me up the slope. However, I won, and rounded 
 the Bromfield Street comer 'ere they passed Park 
 Street Church. Let me mention that the only thing I 
 had time for on the car was to give up my ticket, by 
 which the Met. R. R. Co. is now the gainer. It was 
 now simple to find the picture, and give my order. 
 
140 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I returned to Tremont Street. Never a car. I 
 suppose the horses were all tired do'wn below. I had 
 got myself together a little by this time, and had a 
 hand to spare, which was lucky, for my bonnet, tuned 
 only to Parisian zephyrs, now clean left my head, 
 and I found myself in the teeth of a howling blast ! 
 Mr. Sam Johnson found and pitied me, and we strove 
 to touch the heart of a cabman, but he was " en- 
 gaged," so again I faced the situation. Only at 
 Temple Place did I gain a car, and temporary repose. 
 There was a seat. Thus blown and blowzy I reached 
 my home, just ten o'clock, just in time to let in a 
 pupil on the step of the door. All but Honour lost ! 
 But my pledge fulfilled. The picture has come, and 
 I paid 35 cents to the expressman. Come and consult. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 S. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Olana, June 29, 188^. 
 DEAR LTJC, — ... It is lovcly here, real woodsy 
 and wild, though the house or villa is gorgeous ! Mrs. 
 Church met me at Hudson, and we drove up here, 
 several miles — through thick woods, like the ascent 
 to the Alhambra. In fact Olana is placed somewhat 
 like that, on the top of a cone-like height command- 
 ing the Hudson. The house is large and all open 
 on the lower floor, with wide doors and windows 
 a deux hattants, so that everywhere you look through 
 vistas to shining oak boughs at hand, and dim, blue 
 hills far beyond, middle distance omitted because so 
 far below. The air is all perfumed with wild grape 
 and hay-like scents. It reminds me of Thisselwood 
 in this boskiness. There are no noises whatever, but 
 old squirrels yapping, and hermit-thrushes and robins. 
 in unalarmed profusion. At present the household 
 is old Mrs. Carnes ; Mr. Church, very stiff and lame, 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUI^UCK 141 
 
 but lovely; Mrs. Church, very pretty in soft white 
 curcan ; the boys, Winthrop and Louis, and their 
 tutor, "Mr. Scudder," and Downie; these last have 
 gone to church ; the rest of us are writing in different 
 rooms on different Persian carpets, with different 
 pounded brass inkstands, and different oriental stuffs 
 hung about on easy chairs of antique or artistic 
 shapes. There are a great many animals attached 
 to the house, donkeys and dogs and cats and turtles 
 and a new owl just out of the egg, with great eyes 
 that turn mtli his head. We have talked a great deal 
 about Mr. Appleton, Mexico, etc. It is that real 
 warm inland out-of-door weather, soft, not too hot, 
 regular country, not at all seashorey, suggestion of 
 muslins. I wish I had more. I thinli I shall be 
 happy for a month. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss LucRETiA p. Hale 
 
 Olana, Sunday, July 6, 1884- 
 DEAE LUC, — ... It is a lovely, quiet life, and 
 suits my own minor state of spirits better than an- 
 other place and better than this would at another 
 time. They are certainly the loveliest people that 
 ever were. 
 
 Breakfast is very punctual at eight. The neat 
 maid twangles a triangle to summon us, and we meet 
 in the superb dining-room which is a picture gallery, 
 with a Salvator Rosa, the Murillo " Santa Rosa," 
 and many other pictures. The walls are all window- 
 less except on one side where the light comes from 
 above the great fireplace. Up there you see the 
 branches waving — but below it is cloister-like. Ex- 
 quisite flowers arranged only by Mrs. Church are 
 always on the table, and every plate and pitcher and 
 napkin is chosen for its beauty or prettiness. De- 
 
142 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 licioiis cream, and perfect coffee, burnt in the only 
 machine of its kind in the world; vegetables, fruit, 
 cherries, raspberries, currants, all from our o\vn 
 gardens, and so on. 
 
 Prayers are always after breakfast. Downie gets 
 the Bibles and we all read round. Then I retire 
 to write in my room. I have just finished " F. F." 
 and sent the whole thing off to Lothrop. Break 
 ground to-morrow on the Memoir, and take this 
 Sunday interval to write you. When I get through 
 Avriting, I dart off alone for a sweat-bath and to re- 
 cover my tone. The place is so large I can walk 
 miles without going off of it. It is very pretty, great 
 avenues of trees, a pond, nooks of shade, and always 
 the wide view of the river and mountains. It is a 
 little monotonous, in that just so much as you go 
 down you have to climb up again, being on the very 
 top of everything; in this reminding me of Monad- 
 nock Halfway House. 
 
 We meet at lunch (which nobody can eat but me 
 and the boys. It makes me appear a ravenous wild 
 beast) ; but retire for naps or novels. But between 
 three and four we come out richly dressed and as- 
 semble on whatever piazza, porch, or ombra com- 
 mands the best advantages for seeing and coolness, — 
 and then talk, talk, talk till dinner at five-thirty, 
 and then the same all evening till about ten o'clock, 
 bedtime. We are all, in fact, very agreeable, and 
 nobody takes up a book much, though every form of 
 literature is lying round. Coffee is served after din- 
 ner in little cups with exquisite little spoons, each 
 one different, in the shape of some flower or leaf; 
 all these things are Mr. Church's taste. . . . Close 
 in haste. 
 
 SusE. 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 143 
 
 To Miss Lucrjetia P. Hale 
 
 Olana, July 27, 1884. 
 
 DEAK LUC, — I write now my last from here. 
 After all, how alarmingly fast the month has gone. 
 I have got half my book done (in pages) and have 
 read it aloud to the Churches who are delighted. 
 This part consists chiefly in condensing and copying 
 from early journals, and I have done all that. It is 
 well to be through as I need not cart these heavy 
 books to E. G. — but the rest will be much harder. 
 It is as if a heavy curtain Avent down in front of an 
 actual scene of what Mr. T. G. was doing, and now 
 I must grope about to find out the facts of the greater 
 part of his life. . . . 
 
 We have had a quiet week here — only a Mr. 
 Austen, friend of Mr. Church, great traveller in 
 South America, for a few days. The children all 
 left us on Thursday. . . . 
 
 Our family thus reduced to a quartet of elders. 
 The chief interest is the sweet little owl. The boys 
 let him loose, he having reached full size, but the 
 angel comes back about dusk every night to get fed. 
 His little tmtter is heard, and he floats softly into 
 the room, alighting on some chair. He is perfectly 
 tame, so I catch him, or somebody, and we give him 
 water in a spoon, and bits of raw meat. He revisits 
 his cage, takes a seat for a minute in his little round 
 basket bed, and then, having thus shewed his friend- 
 liness to the family, soars off into the night on silent 
 wings. Is it not sweet of him ? The great black cat 
 Cyrus who rodes about at night causes us fear, for 
 it would be sad if one of our pets should lie down 
 inside of the other. . . . Much love from 
 
 Susie. 
 
144 LETTERS OF SVSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Ellen Day Hale 
 
 Boston, February 20, 1885. 
 
 DEAR NELLY, — As I Write tlie date, I feel all the 
 things I wish to write you about trooping out of my 
 head to unkno"\vn parts. Don't you ever ? I hope 
 they will come back, for there are stacks of them, 
 and I do not want to fill up my letter with twaddle, 
 of which there is always plenty afloat, of course. . . . 
 
 I want to tell you about my story, you know, that 
 I read to you and Phil. I sent it to Harper's who 
 sent it back saying there was rather too little subject 
 for so long a story, and that they were overburdened 
 with tales of that length. ISTow this rather comforted 
 me, for I hate to write such long ones, and had much 
 rather do two short than one long. So I think to 
 pluck up strength to send a brief one chock full of 
 meat, would n't you ? Then as Alice Jepson was just 
 returning to England, I poked off on her the Mss. 
 of this story, asking Stevens to send it to some or any 
 London mag. ! The English may have different tastes, 
 at any rate it 's out of my sight, so that 's that. 
 
 Meanwhile, Tilton has kept me the whole winter 
 puttering over the decorating book, which is now 
 really going to press at once ; he will pay me twenty- 
 five dollars more, which makes a hundred. And Mr. 
 Amory is sweet about Mexico. ... So that I can 
 really get off for Mexico and apparently shall, in the 
 Alexander steamer of March 26, via Havana for 
 Vera Cruz, where Churches will lay hold of me. I 
 think to be gone till about May 20, and then come 
 back here and write here in 97 B, — and not move 
 till about July 1 to Matunuck, getting there in time 
 to receive my boarding family and you when you 
 return, n'est-ce pas? I believe your mother holds 
 firm to the scheme; but I am awfully afraid of some 
 treachery in the serfs ; — for what a sell it would be 
 
EUKOPE, MEXICO, MATU^UCK 145 
 
 to get saddled down there with Katy and Ellen and 
 Mary ! Your father is bold as a lion about it. . . . 
 Che che ne sia, as Giannone says all the time, I will 
 hold to my bargain, and long to be far from the in- 
 trigues of the Court, although 'tis sad to think that 
 Jack and I shall not have another winter in these 
 rooms, which are nearly perfect now. 
 
 My Readings from French J^Tovels, which I feel 
 always indebted to you for the idea, are a great suc- 
 cess. Everyone thinks it is " perfectly wonderful " 
 how I can do it — but in reality, it requires no more 
 preparation than in English, for in either case, I 
 always have to read over beforehand, by the clock, 
 the extracts I have made. It is funny, I find I hurry 
 the French more than in English, a sort of feeling 
 that slowness will appear like hitching, but this is a 
 fault which I am correcting. I have bought several 
 French things for this purpose, which you will like 
 — Marivaux, Marianne, Diderot, etc. I 'm sure I 
 could do it in German, Spanish, and Italian, if tlie 
 audience were up to it, but although they praise it, 
 they don't quite take in what a boon to them it is, 
 . to be yanked over three volumes of foreign literature 
 in one and a half hours. 
 
 I am thinking that at Matunuck in July and 
 August, I might have a sort of Round Robin course 
 of " readings " for the same folks that belong to the 
 Pier talk, anyhow I will try Mrs. Weeden on it, when 
 I get dovra, there. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Lttcretia P. Hale 
 
 Veea Ceitz, Monday p. m., March 30, 1885. 
 . . . You must know they keep vultures here to 
 scavenge the streets, which they do very nicely, and 
 these great beasts are sitting all about on the roofs, 
 
146 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 window-tops and gutters, and making a most delight- 
 ful skwawk all the time; as if our sparrows and 
 pigeons should have been the size of great turkeys; 
 and they do keep the streets clean, for they shine with 
 neatness, paved, with a narrow side-walk and a gutter 
 in the middle of fresh w^ater, and sort of bridges at 
 every crossing, so as not to tire your feet on the 
 cobble stones. It is all very Spanish but kind of 
 worthy as well. The hotel is on a plaza made of a 
 bunchy kind of tree I don't know yet, and palms. 
 Down-stairs it is outdoorish, with arcades, up one 
 flight the hotel begins, with brick tile floor, all open, 
 one end of the great place is the dining-room, and 
 round that, high double doors open into the rooms, 
 which are very high, the partition walls merely 
 planks; the door has a great key as big as a house 
 and a ring to lay hold of for a handle, and a great 
 bolt beside. The window opposite is a deux hattants, 
 opening to the floor with a balcony with a green 
 wooden railing, and a rock-chair in it. It had a can- 
 vas a^\^ling when I came, but as it has got cool they 
 came and took it clean away. There are three little 
 beds in the comers, small (ugly) rugs by each, the 
 rest brick, in diamonds. A very praiseworthy bureau 
 of pine painted indian red, and wash-stand ditto, but 
 a slop-pail and plenty of water. Below in the plaza 
 the inhabitants are cooling themselves with their hats 
 off. The town is very quiet, except for these vultures 
 conversing, and I have a cage full of canary-birds of 
 my own at the window. I don't mean I have bought 
 them, but they come with the room. A " nagur " who 
 speaks English sits at the door to do anything I want. 
 I wish to live here always, and I hear Mrs. Long- 
 fellow does likewise. 
 
 There are horse-cars running through the straight 
 street we are on, but let me call your attention to the 
 fact that they make not the slightest noise. You 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 147 
 
 merely hear the click of the muleses feet, which draw 
 them, and a low sort of rumbling, but no clatter, nor 
 jingling of bells, only an occasional toot of a horn 
 which harmonises well with the vultures. The street 
 is only two stories high, yellow ochre with bright 
 green blinds, projecting balconies with shelves over 
 them for the vultures, which are painted red (vul- 
 tures very black). Around the square are several 
 pretty towers and a dome with coloured tiles, and 
 flying buttresses, atrocious architecture, I dare say, 
 but very pretty, all very light, bright, and pleas- 
 ing. . . . Must leave off. 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 City of Mexico^ Easter, April 5, 1885. 
 
 DEAE LUC, — I must begin, again to grind at the 
 writing-mill, or I shall get behindhand. This morn- 
 ing I tackled the " Family Flight " and to-morrow 
 shall have finished all I need send home to " Cocky- 
 wax," so that will be off my mind. I am in my nice 
 room at the Cafe Anglais ; a great soup-plate full of 
 white roses interspersed with dark sweet-peas is on 
 my table, besides a heavenly little glass jug (6i/4 
 cents) containing fuchsias and pansies. I bought 
 these all in the market this morning with a sweet old 
 basket thrown in for two reales. We had melon to 
 begin Almuerzo and strawberries to finish. They 
 have the latter all the year round here. These were 
 not very good, but were not the stomachics of 
 commerce. 
 
 Friday was Good Friday, which, they celebrate here 
 as a day of great rejoicings; all the world is in the 
 street. We sent out to the Zocolo or square to see 
 the crowds, and it was great fun buying little cheap 
 things at the booths. This country is a great place 
 
148 LETTERS OF SUSAK KALE 
 
 for children's toys, especially this anniversary, for 
 they make a great time about Judas (Iscariot). The 
 streets are full of hideous images called Judases, 
 most of them full of fireworks, and on Saturday 
 at ten o'clock in the morning these are all set off amid 
 pealing of bells. There are Mrs. Judases as well. 
 Someone gave Mrs. Church a little silver Judas; it 
 ig a Devil ; — the man who sold it said, " Yes, Devil, 
 yes, Judas, same thing." They are all sizes and de- 
 signs. I have several choice ones which we can set 
 off on the Fourth of July. Then every being has in 
 his hand a sort of watchman's rattle, which makes 
 a noise called grinding the bones of Judas, and these 
 are of every imaginable design, frying-pans, bed- 
 steads, locomotives, flower-vases, birds, bath-tubs, and 
 then there are little wooden carts, with wheels that 
 grind the bones. The true thing is to buy your 
 Judas, selecting him with care from millions, and 
 to put him in his little cart and draw him home. We 
 saw countless children doing this, the little carts 
 decorated with real flowers, and the children so 
 pleased ! 
 
 Then there is sold everything to eat, — sugared 
 banana, flat cakes, pink confections like in Egypt, — 
 and cooling drinks, some a bright orange colour, 
 which Nathan says is very good, I haven't tried it 
 yet. A band was playing' in the Zocolo, and people 
 swarming, all classes, ladies in mantillas, "Rag-bags" 
 in rehozosj — I am going to get you a rehozo. I can't 
 decide whether maroon or blue will be best. . . . 
 
 Saturday was Judas-day, and we saw from our 
 balconies crowds of Judases carried to their doom. 
 These big ones are the size of a man, made of frames 
 covered with tissue paper or what masks are made 
 of. One was hung across corners of our two streets, 
 he had a gTinning face, they had put a straw hat on 
 him and festooned him with bread and bananas. He 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUI^UCK 149 
 
 had a placard on him in very bad spelt Spanish, saying 
 among other things, '' Adios amigos, voy a morir." 
 But we couldn't stop to see him morir, but all 
 hastened to the Zocolo, where we got separated and 
 I was alone in a street leading off witk an immense 
 crowd all waiting to see three Judases set off. They 
 were hung on ropes stretched across the second story, 
 and the crowd pleased themselves with throwing mis- 
 siles at them, with yells of joy when anything hit; 
 but very gentle and polite, and very nice to me. At 
 last one went off and then another with a great rush- 
 ing sound, and snorting smoke and flame which issued 
 from the boots chiefly. Then I got away in the wake 
 of a horse-car that cleaved the crowd, — and found 
 the Longfellows in the Cathedral where there was n't 
 much but a smell of incense. . . . 
 
 Yrs., 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 September 15, 1885. 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE, — 'T is rather late in the day for 
 me to thank you for taking my very broad hint about 
 Rev. E. E. — but so it is with my letters as you well 
 know. I was sure you would be like angels to him, 
 and so he says you were, and it seemed a shocking 
 waste of material to have him turned loose in a hotel. 
 He depicts your house, its hosts, and everything about 
 it, in the most glowing colours. 
 
 Well, now, my dear, I want to know if you would 
 like to have me come over for the very last week in 
 October ? Perhaps it will bore you to have anybody 
 there so soon before you shut up for good, in which 
 ease, pray say so. You know I don't mind being in 
 a scrimmage, and perhaps I can help, and anything 
 irregular about food don't trouble me^, stilly just as 
 
150 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 like as not it's not convenient. The reason for in- 
 viting myself so late is that I can't leave here before 
 October 4 on account of writing several books whicb 
 could n't be done in connection with housekeeping, — 
 and Mrs. Church whom I have put off all summer 
 leaves her place the twentieth, so I have to go there 
 before. Besides, you know, I fear to go to N'ewport 
 earlier on account of clothes, which I haven't any 
 of a butterfly nature. I 've had this on my mind all 
 summer, but have been so hard worked there was not 
 an instant to stop and say it in. Family generally of 
 ten persons, chiefly hungry boys. Three very " lame 
 ducks " in the kitchen. It has been a great success. 
 Everybody singing my praises. I have made bread, 
 — invented a breakfast cake, — stuffed tomatoes, — 
 baked gingerbread, — and besides this, and by far 
 the hardest part, looked after the wants and whims 
 of this tumultuous family in the way of hats, bats, 
 rackets, bathing clothes, saws, scissors, novels, Bibles, 
 pens, ink, gloves, bicycles, wheelbarrows, water-pails, 
 microscopes, telescopes, tennis shoes, pumps, shirts, 
 handkerchiefs, overcoats, undercoats, pins, needles, 
 soap, vaseline, poetry, prose, dictionaries, cyclope- 
 dias, fly powder, paint, screws, hammers, putty, muci- 
 lage, lining silk, envelopes, blotting-paper, corkscrews, 
 wagons. This is all I think of, things called for at 
 every moment, and always left on the entry table after 
 use, and expected to be close at hand the next time. 
 
 But I love it, — and feel that my talents are only 
 fit for taking care of a large household. It really is 
 lovely here, and I mean to come back here for No- 
 vember after coming to you, if you want me, end of 
 next month. You know I long to see your house. 
 Haven't heard a word about dear William Amory, 
 have you ? 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susan. 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, :MATUNUCK 151 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 November 13, 1885. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — ... I am really writing twenty 
 pages a day on Spain, and this leaves me scarce the 
 fingers to grip the pen, so you must not expect me 
 to dilate much, or grumble if the gaps are long. The 
 life is enchanting, but the days so short. To-day, 
 weather perfect, — oh, yes! just perfect. I have 
 never seen anything more lovely than this soft, 
 dreamy sky. JSTone of your crackling October snappy 
 days with the water indigo-colour and everything 
 sharp and clear, but all tender, vague, and yet dis- 
 tinct, and the colour of everything wonderful — 
 cesthetic (Liberty) greens, reds, yellows, the prevail- 
 ing tone that of the fallen oak leaves which lie in 
 masses the colour of our check-books. And so 
 still! . . . 
 
 Here comes Jane, with dinner, which is laid in the 
 parlour close to the open door on to the piazza. 
 Roast chicken, potato, cabbage, pickled walnuts, — 
 baked quince and cream. 
 
 After dinner. — This is the true Indian summer. 
 It occurred to me while dining, how much the In- 
 dians must have preferred this to the other summer, 
 but then whose summer do you suppose they called 
 that ? I am now waiting for my p. m. tea, which I 
 have early, in order to get out among the hills before 
 three o'clock, for, look you, the sun sets at four-thirty- 
 two to-day ! ! And I want to mention that the sun 
 rises now this side of Point Judith ! Over the water ! 
 Can you believe it ? So far south ! Seems as if it 
 would get so far south as to rise in the west. How 
 confusing this would be. This seeing the sun rise 
 and set every day gives me a new and firm confidence 
 •in the permanence of things. Here is something 
 
152 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 whicli really does happen, straight along, on which 
 you can rely. Pretty sure, as the old Bird goes down, 
 that he '11 be up again round the other side. 
 
 You '11 think I 'm drivelling. Guess I am. But 
 how resting it is not to hear a horse-car, — or eke 
 now any scraping thing, for the grasshoppers are 
 dumb. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Off Erontera, Saturday, March 6, 1886. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — And this, my dear, is the Tabasco 
 River, which Cortes went up, where he had his first 
 fight with the Indians, and picked up Marina. It 
 is far off from us, and more faint and dim than I 
 have made it, being only deep blue against a grey 
 sky, but very pretty. It is overcast to-day, and 
 Ernest thinks it very disagreeable ; and as usual, they 
 were on the wrong side of the ship for the breeze 
 last night. The rest of us think it a refreshing 
 change from the hot glare of yesterday. We are wait- 
 ing for tugs to come off shore. 
 
 Yesterday we were lying off Campeche. It was 
 blazing hot, and no breeze, so we had to wait a long 
 time for boats to come out. When the government 
 one came, it brought a party of ladies, and we had 
 great fim with them all day, and much excellent 
 Spanish practice, for they pervaded the ship and 
 came into my cabin where Miss Sharp and I scraped 
 acquaintance. They were a mother and three daugh- 
 ters, and a friend in cherry-coloured silk, named 
 Rafaela, who was dressed as if for a ball, with a 
 pink feather fan. ISTone of them had any bonnets nor 
 wraps, and the buxom mother had black silk slippers 
 and black stockings a jour, their feet and hands very 
 small. They looked untidy, and were heaped with 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 153 
 
 powder, but were evidently gentlewomen. They 
 could all tocar the piano, and the mother could sing, 
 and was fain to do so, but no one could play her 
 accompaniments. We all did our best to entertain 
 them. Mrs. Gross brought out Huyler candy, and 
 Mr. Sargent opened a bottle of champagne at lunch. 
 At about 2 p. M. I fled from them to my cabin, 
 being weary of translating, for I was the only one 
 of us who could do any Spanish. But, lo ! they fol- 
 lowed me there, to ask me to tell the stewardess a 
 commission they wanted her to entregar from ISTew 
 York next time. This was, — what do you think, — 
 false bangs for their hair ! All the dramatis personce 
 assembled here in my little room. Two seiioritas 
 on the sofa next me, Cherry-Colour on the bed, the 
 stewardess gabbling her fool English in the middle, 
 the madre in the doorway. Miss Sharp looking on 
 amazed, — and looking in at the window Seiior 
 Vanete, being introduced to me, and several raga- 
 muffins also assisting outside. 
 There was, moreover, a child, cet. 
 about thirteen years, whom I must 
 describe. She came on at Havana 
 with her small brother, in this 
 loose, black garment, with no hat, 
 and no other baggage than a box 
 of cigars under her arm, from 
 which she smokes at her leisure. 
 They are orphans, and going to 
 Vera Cruz, where relatives will take care of them. 
 Of course we were all filled with compassion, and we 
 treat them most friendly; but she is amply able to 
 take care of herself, a regular Tilly Slowboy, wdth a 
 tin-pan voice, and yelling Havana Spanish all over 
 the ship, leading about her adopted son, and setting 
 him down hard on benches and thresholds. Neither 
 has any other garment imder these black ones you 
 
154 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 see in the picture, and his little legs are bare. This 
 pair assisted in my stateroom, and when the madre 
 took my portfolio to write her address, Slowboys held 
 it up to steady it, watching the pen with amazement, 
 while the child poked his little nose into my nail- 
 closet (pour soigner les mains, I mean). Wasn't it 
 rich ! 
 
 Miss Sharp and I tried to persuade the Senoritas 
 that bangs were passes, but, no, they wanted them. 
 The stewardess has brought them before, to these 
 parts, and very likely to their friends ! So I drew 
 pictures of curly bangs and straight, and they chose 
 the curly. The stewardess cut off bits of their hair 
 to match. I introduced Seiior Vanete to the stew- 
 ardess ; for he is government agent at Campeche, who 
 must come on board every trip, and she will give the 
 bangs to him, and he will entregarlos to the Seiiori- 
 tas. I had just learned this word " entregar" in my 
 meisterschaft, and very useful it was. 
 
 They gave me the Mexican pesos (the wretch of 
 a stewardess pretended the bangs would cost five dol- 
 lars a piece) and I gave it to her. The Senoritas put 
 on fresh powder at my looking-glass, we kissed all 
 round, and they put off for shore, while we got up 
 steam and sailed away. This alone would have made 
 a stirring day of it, and we went joyfully to dinner 
 after their departure ; but had to leave coffee and fly 
 to the bow, for an annular eclipse was going on ! We 
 were just in line for it, as it wasn't visible above 
 Tampico. It was wonderfully lovely, a sight for a 
 life-time. It came on gradually as the sun was set- 
 ting, and at first we could only look at it through the 
 captain's sextant, it was so dazzling. Just as it 
 touched the horizon it blazed out in fiery splendour 
 to the naked eye from a cloud which had hidden it 
 a minute or two. It was almost fearful, such a new 
 sign in the heavens. Then it sank, becoming like a 
 
EUKOPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 155 
 
 fairy car ; then it disappeared gradually till only the 
 upper horn was there ; then a gleam like a lighthouse 
 and then — gone ! The brilliant after-glow had gaps 
 of darkness in it as we sometimes see at Matunuck. 
 Our good captain was greatly pleased at the success 
 of his entertainment. I think I had best wind this 
 up now, as we land to-morrow early, unless we catch 
 a norther before reaching Vera Cruz. . . . 
 
 Yrs., 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Patzcuaro, Wednesday, March 17, 1886. 
 DEAK LUC, . . . On Friday about noon we alighted 
 at this hotel. I wish I could accustom you to these 
 porte-cocheres leading through the house to the patio, 
 the stairs let into the house opening on the upper 
 gallery, which is adorned with great red wooden pots 
 of blooming plants. On this gallery open all the 
 rooms with glass double doors, and the rooms lead 
 through to the square, where they overlook the scene 
 from little balconies. There was a good deal of 
 scrimmage with our big party, before we got settled 
 into the rooms. The hosts knew absolutely no word 
 of any known language but Spanish, and the mozos 
 are Indian, who are slow to comprehend my conver- 
 sation. The hotel is lovely, clean, odd, and different, 
 but the beds are fearful ! a simple board, really, with 
 no spring to it whatever, and on top, a thin sort of 
 mattress, and two bolsters like logs of wood. My 
 little pillow, therefore, is very grateful. The food is 
 also very singular, and the delicate stomachs of the 
 party touch nothing of it. I don't mind that, but I 
 must say I regTet the bed, for it has started up my 
 sciatic nerve, and it is agony to turn over. However, 
 it wears off daytimes, and I merely mention it as 
 an incident du voyage. I am interpreter for the 
 
156 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 party, although. Mr. Church does perfectly well about 
 ordering things, but you know it is always on the 
 one that knows most that the brunt falls. Mr. War- 
 ner is rather funny but perfectly distracting in mix- 
 ing up words partly on purpose. He tells me to order 
 beer, for instance, and then just as the mozo has 
 grasped the idea, he says " leche" to him merely for 
 a joke, and then is disappointed when milk comes. 
 In fact the rest of Friday was rather trying all round. 
 It was very cold. ... I thought sadly of my trunk 
 full of warm things at the Morelia station, which I 
 might have brought just as well, since we had the 
 whole coach to ourselves coming. There is a howling 
 wind at Patzcuaro which swoops down the open top 
 of the patio; in fact, this is not the right season to 
 be here; they say the winds cease in April. 
 
 However, Mr. Brown and I carried the thing 
 through by our lively spirits (perhaps a little forced 
 for the occasion), and by an early hour we were all 
 on bed, with towels and water and more blankets 
 ordered by me in all the rooms. 
 
 Saturday started better. They were rested and 
 began to see the delightful charm of the character- 
 istic village. We look down on a great plaza planted 
 with old ash-trees. The natives squat about selling 
 things. There is a great fountain in the middle — 
 and when we clap our hands, Vincenzo runs out with 
 two great tin pails, and dips up ice-cold water. I 
 began a sketch dowTi by the front door, and all Patz- 
 cuaro came round to look on. They were very nice, 
 and when they pressd too close I waved them back 
 saying, ^^ No puedo dibujar/' then the little boys 
 would smile with their white teeth, and whisper, " No 
 puede dihujarj'^ and when new ones came they would 
 explain it to them. They found a natural screen 
 from the sun which grew hot, — they didn't smell 
 very well, but that was no harm. When it was all 
 
EUEOPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 157 
 
 over, and I had come up-stairs, a man appeared 
 below, whose conversation I understood with great 
 difficulty. After a long time it came out that he had 
 run to fetch a soldado to protect me from the crowd, 
 and lo ! there was the soldado with musket (fife and 
 drum, not these latter) clad in the white uniform of 
 the country. They were quite disappointed that I 
 would not come out and dibujar some more to utilize 
 the soldado. Meantime Do^^^lie with Messrs. Warner 
 and Brown skipped up to the top of a mountain 
 where there is a delightful view of the lake, and all 
 had good appetites for the singular food furnished 
 us. ]^o sooner had we arrived than people began 
 to call on us, who had known Mr. Church here before. 
 At every minute I was called from whatever I was 
 doing to interpret these visitors, and it happens so 
 still, so that I have very little time to write or sketch. 
 Of these amiable gentlemen of Patzcuaro I will select 
 two for mention, as they have become our intimate 
 friends. One is Sehor Pablo Plata, who keeps the 
 diligences between here and the railroad. When I 
 consulted him about expeditions, he said he would 
 furnish horses, mozos and everything to go to Tzint- 
 zuntzan. This seemed passing strange before we 
 found out he was the diligence man. You see the 
 Churches can't do much, but Mr. Warner is wild to 
 be hoiking about. To cut short endless discussions 
 in Spanish and English, Mr. W. and I started on 
 two horses Monday morning, to make that expedi- 
 tion. The Browns left at about the same time in 
 diligence on their way home to Estados TJnidos, via 
 Mexico, so that was the last of them. 
 
 I was very averse to taking this trip partly through 
 fear of the horse, partly on accoimt of leaving the 
 Churches, and also because I had absolutely nothing 
 proper to wear on horseback, all my thick things, as 
 previously remarked, being at Morelia. It is a long 
 
158 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 trip of thirty miles, there and back, and I was by 
 no means rested yet since the steamer and the rapid 
 transit hither. But Mr. Warner was determined I 
 should go to do his Spanish, and Mr. Church also 
 urged me to, as a chance not to be lost. 
 
 So with a heart low in my boots I descended to the 
 patio to suhir my cahallo. Kow what do you think 
 I had on for a riding habit ? — my striped blue and 
 red dressing-go"WTi ! I wore under it my old brown 
 satin skirt, and looped up the tail of the wrapper 
 over this in walking, but on the horse it hung do'wn 
 quite long and clingy. It was belted with the maroon 
 belt of my travelling dress, and I wore my old " land 
 and water" felt hat (maroon, of last summer) firmly 
 pinned and tied on. Furthermore, Seiior Pablo, by 
 request, brought a serape which I wound about my 
 legs, and then clomb from a chair into a sorry saddle, 
 boosted by two Arabs, — I mean Indios; Mr. War- 
 ner, you may well believe, was fully occupied by his 
 mount. My sciatic nerve made my left leg so stiff 
 that it was only with agony I got it in the stirrup. 
 I was ready to cry, really. Mr. W. and Don Pablo 
 started off at a lively trot out of the archway, and 
 I and my caballo came after with the 7nozo. Just 
 as we reached the street my horse planted his feet, 
 began to back, turn round and do other sudden things 
 like the camel, which swayed me in my uncertain 
 seat. All the Indios began to " shew " and " shish " 
 at him, which made him act worse. I suppose I 
 pressed my foot too much in the stirrup, snap went 
 its strap, and it clattered down on the pavement! 
 This was lucky, for it was a rotten old bit of leather. 
 I was now in despair. Mrs. Church was leaning on 
 the balcony above, and I cried out, " I don't believe 
 I can go! " (You know I had never wished to for 
 an instant.) 
 
 However, mozos had run after Don Pablo, and they 
 
EUEOPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 159 
 
 came back; a small piece of string was discovered 
 somewhere in the toAvn and my stirrup tied on again. 
 I beseeched Mr. Warner not to go off so far again 
 (not that he was any good, but Don Pablo was), and 
 we all set off. Mr. Warner was on a great, beautiful 
 black mule, and he was utterly happy. And now the 
 tone changes, for in a very few minutes I became 
 used to the saddle and the horse, which was very 
 gentle. The rest of the straps seemed stout and 
 strong and there was no further difficulty. The ex- 
 pedition was most interesting; the day was lovely. 
 Pablo and I prattled lightly in Spanish all the way, 
 and Mr. Warner was kind and attentive, and as al- 
 ways very agreeable. As soon as I tasted blood of 
 being on a horse all my ancient love of it revived, 
 and coming home I trotted almost all the way with- 
 out the slightest fear. 
 
 Tzintzimtzan is a very ancient Indian village. 
 The palace of King Caltzontzi was in the neighbour- 
 hood ; we saw the pile of stones, its ruins. The town 
 was the seat of the earliest bishopric in Michoacan, 
 and the first viceroys built churches and made good 
 roads to it. All that has now gone by, but it is in- 
 teresting for its primitive Indian population, and 
 besides, there is a picture in the church well worth 
 seeing. If not by Titian, which is very probable, 
 it is by somebody who knew how. There is a por- 
 trait of Philip II in the corner, one of the figures, 
 and the legend is that he sent it over here to his 
 faithful subjects in Tzintzuntzan. 
 
 The Churches went over there to see it a couple 
 of years ago, in canoes on the lake ; but we were told 
 that now the winds are so strong it would be vain to 
 try getting there and back on the lake. Hence the 
 horses. 
 
 The lake, you must know, is twenty miles long, and 
 surrounded by beautiful mountains, which, as we, at 
 
160 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 the foot of them, are over six thousand feet up, must 
 be ten or eleven thousand feet high. Our road went 
 winding along the shore, sometimes climbing spurs 
 of high land running out into the water. The weather 
 was delicious like our June, not too hot, but not the 
 least cold. The country is parched and bare wait- 
 ing for rains which begin in April. It all looks dry 
 and dreary; cracked and dusty, yet the peach trees 
 are in blossom, and wild cherry, and hawthorn, and 
 Eupatorium grows every where on bushes ten feet 
 high massed with white blossoms. The other things 
 look like October, thistles and asters gone to seed, 
 and the like. But there are lots of pretty flowers of 
 the labiate tribe, all colours, and a pale poppy with 
 prickly leaves. Then we kept meeting Indios bring- 
 ing loads of pottery on their backs, brown men, mod- 
 erately clad in dirty white, with bare legs, hurrying 
 along at a short trot they have, 
 wliich gets them over the 
 ground though it seems not to. 
 But this must go. 
 
 We left here about seven in 
 the morning, and got to Tzint- 
 zuntzan at ten-thirty. We 
 alighted from our horses un- 
 der a tree in the middle of the tovm, there being 
 no inn, and stood and looked about us. I strolled 
 through a tumble-doMm gateway into a snarly place 
 where great huge pink roses were sprawling on 
 vines, and two blue women with red jugs were 
 drawing water at a yellow stone well. Then Don 
 Pablo took us into the Hall of Justice where there 
 w^as a coat of arms of three Aztec kings with one of 
 them, Catlzontzi, quartered just as he was embracing 
 the Christian faith, — I mean quartered on the coat 
 of arms. After this we w^ent to the church where 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 101 
 
 the picture is; it is in a waste place planted with 
 immense olive-trees so old they are tumbling to pieces. 
 The church has a quiet cloister with round arches, 
 painted pink and yellow as everything is here; the 
 picture is in the sacristy. It is fine and very im- 
 pressive, Christ borne from the sepulchre, surrounded 
 by the women, St. John, etc., a bit of very Titian- 
 esque landscape in the distance. It is startling to 
 see a picture so fine (whoever painted it) in this 
 strange place where all the church decorations are 
 of the most crude description, in a bam-like sacristy, 
 not very different from the Da Vinci " Last Supper " 
 stable. There is no date, no signature, and only 
 the scantest legend. The Republica seems to take 
 no interest in it, — it neither steals nor protects it. 
 The Indios stood about with heads uncovered while 
 we studied it, and Mr, Warner wrote a careful de- 
 scription of the figures. He, of course, is sight-seeing 
 to write later. 
 
 We then strolled down to a friend of Don Pablo's 
 to eat our food. . . . This friend of Don Pablo's 
 was a lady who lived in a corner of a street in a little 
 adobe house with tiled roof like the rest. There was 
 a little shop \vith counter through which we passed 
 to a great room with no windows to it, lighted only 
 by that door and another one which opened into a 
 bright garden. She was for shutting this door so 
 the perro needn't come in, but I said I would see to 
 the perro. The floor was but the trodden earth, the 
 sides of ramshakly wood; — the garden was very 
 pretty and sunny, contained, besides cactuses, of 
 which the woman gave us beautiful blossoms, a pig 
 and a dog, two cats, two children, and a little miss 
 of thirteen years, in a blue rehozo. 
 
 While my men went off somewhere with the horses, 
 I took our package of food put up at this hotel before 
 we started, fetched a wooden table out into the light 
 
162 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 part of the room by the door, called for plates, knives, 
 forks, etc. The lady took these from a sort of shelves 
 she had, but she only owned two forks and two tum- 
 blers; there was a mug of Guadalajara ware we used 
 for the third. The children stood amazed as I did 
 these things, and the cats came round and mewed for 
 food. Our parcel contained one lean hen stuffed 
 with arroz, three hunks of Mexican bread, a piece of 
 hard cheese, and two bottles wine, — their claret, not 
 bad. I carved the hen with a knife and my fingers, 
 for the tenedor (fork) bent double as I stuck it in 
 the hardened breast of the bird. Then I summoned 
 Dons Warner and Pablo, and we ate rapturously of 
 our meal — giving the carcass and bread to the mozo, 
 and small bones to the two cats, who sate by and 
 mewed. The small child yelled and was spanked by 
 his mama. Then we thanked them all round and 
 went away. 
 
 We walked down to the shore of the lake, and saw 
 men pull in nets with which they were catching a 
 small white fish, which abounds; we went to several 
 pottery places where they always gave us pockets full 
 of little toy Avare. Then I made a very hasty sketch, 
 we looked once more at the noble picture, and then 
 mounted again at about 3 : 30 p. m. to ride back. It 
 seemed perfect rest to get up on the horse again after 
 dragging round the ill-paved streets. Every body 
 wished us good-bye, and we trotted out of town 
 gaily. 
 
 The ride back was lovely facing the west, the wind 
 made ripples in the lake which broke like surf upon 
 the shore. Don Pablo went fast asleep on his good, 
 white steed, and I was glad of a let-up of Spanish 
 conversation. 
 
 This excursion, so successful, determined Mr. War- 
 ner to go on to Uruapan, forty-five miles off, on the 
 same mule, and he wanted me to go too. I was 
 
EUROPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 163 
 
 tempted to, for we are all dying to get there, but 
 there is no road whatever to speak of, so it is out of 
 the question for Churches. Don Pablo agreed to go, 
 and to manage the whole thing, and in the end he 
 set out with Mr. Warner Wednesday morning; but 
 by gTeat strength of will I succeeded in keeping out 
 of it. It would have been fearfully tiring, for they 
 come back to-morrow ! One day to go, forty-five 
 miles, one to stay, sight-seeing and no rest, and one 
 to come back. I have rejoiced unceasingly that I 
 did not go, but Mr. W. was pretty wroth with me, 
 and tried to make the Churches make me go; but 
 Mr. C, in fact, the Mexicans, all said it was too hard 
 a journey. . . . 
 
 We now come to our second hospitable friend, 
 Senor Pancho Arriaga, whose brother married the 
 sister of Don Pablo. Why he is so devoted we can't 
 imagine, but he every day devises some nice thing 
 to do. Tuesday he heiked us all forth early in the 
 morning to the lake, which is two or three miles away 
 from the town, Mr. Church in a sedan chair (my 
 dear! like yours, only blue!) and Mrs. C, Do"vvnie, 
 and I on donkeys. We went to the Hacienda de 
 Ybarra, which his father used to own, and there we 
 embarked in a canoa (or dug-out) and were spooned 
 about the lake, landed at a village where there is a 
 picture of some merit, a Madonna, date, 1702, but 
 not very interesting, except that it is in a sort of 
 pigsty, and belongs to a native Indian woman, hav- 
 ing been in her family for sixty years. 
 
 We loved the donkey business so that we arranged 
 for another trip the next day. That was Wednesday 
 p. M. I sketched in the morning ; at four Seiior 
 Pancho came for us, and the cavalcade proceeded 
 as before, Senor P. always on his own horse, hung 
 about with lorgnons, guns, umbrellas, etc., and on the 
 lake he shot a Gallina, a strange bluish water-fowl. 
 
164 LETTERS OF SUSAK HALE 
 
 which he presented to Mr. Church. The saddle for 
 donkeys here is a simple saw-horse, Avhich fits over 
 them in a rather agreeable manner. It shuts up flat 
 when not in use, like car|3et-cliairs. We were all very 
 happy on our " donks,", and this expedition up the 
 mountain was lovely. It is steep, looking off on the 
 lake, and we stopped at a rock on which Baron Hum- 
 boldt erst stood. The donkey-man was an old rap- 
 scallion, with one tooth and a white beard. The rest 
 of him was brown, except such scanty portions as 
 were covered with ragged shirt and trousers long 
 since white, a red woolen faja girt about his waist, 
 his feet tied up in flat sandals with thongs, a leathern 
 pouch hanging down in front, and an old serape on 
 his shoulders — a torn straw sombrero on his head. 
 I had a great deal of talk with him, though, owing 
 to his tooth and extraction, he avoids every consonant 
 in his speech, which makes it hard to comprehend. 
 We saw the puesta del sol from the height, and as 
 we came back it grew dark and was lovely moonlight. 
 My saw-horse came all to pieces up on the mountain, 
 so I got off and walked do^\Ti, — but resumed the 
 donkey in the streets, clinging on to a fragment of 
 the wood. 
 
 Thursday was passed peacefully. Our course here 
 is thus : Downie shares my room, she gets dressed and 
 out about seven-thirty, then I come forth in my 
 riding habit (the striped dressing) clap my hands 
 over the railing, and Vincenzio comes running out 
 with a red bed-blanket round him (which I'm sorry 
 to say is superseding the serape), "Aqua fria, y mas 
 toallasf' I cry. " What ! " says V., " mas toallas! " 
 as if the idea of fresh towels was an absolutely new 
 one. To-day he informed me that the masters had 
 gone to mass at Santo Calvario, and had locked up 
 the towels before leaving, so we all had to do without. 
 He runs to the fountain in the square, and dips up 
 
EUKOPE, MEXICO, MATUNUCK 165 
 
 two great pails of splendid cold water and comes 
 running up into the rooms to fill the basins. Slings 
 the old water do^\Ti into the patio, and leaves with a 
 radiant smile. " ISTow, Vincenzio, you know we 
 others desire the coffee immediately." " Ya ! ? ? ? " 
 He exclaims — which is to say, "What! coffee, 
 now?" "Why, certainly, we always have it at las 
 ocJioI" "Oh, ya ! " he says and runs away again. 
 This " Ya" is dejd (French), but is used for "right 
 off," "hurry up," etc. I have just got the hang of 
 it. Vincenzio now runs up with tumblers for the 
 coffee and a lacquered waiter heaped with different 
 kinds of bread. Then runs again for the coffee-pot, 
 and a great pot full of hot milk. He always forgets 
 the sugar which is kept in the office-and-bar-room for 
 some reason, so runs to fetch that. Mr. Church 
 comes out and we all fall to. At twelve or there- 
 abouts, the same struggle begins for our next meal. 
 " \'^Tiat, ya ! " says Vincenzio. " Yes, yes, tenemoz 
 mucho hambre!" (We are now in that condition, 
 and have been nagging V. for our dinner, but he is 
 making the beds and can't attend to it.) The morn- 
 ing goes to sketching, strolling in the market, enter- 
 taining Don Pancho, and the like. We have comida 
 dowm-stairs in a room with no windows, a big door 
 on the patio. Vincenzio runs with one dish after 
 another. Slight naps ensue or extension on our hard 
 beds, and then the burros come for these expeditions. 
 Last evening the sunset was superb, we saw it from 
 a point near the lovely lake, and walked home by 
 moonlight, always accompanied by Don Pancho, and 
 doing Spanish. 
 
 Mr. Warner will be back to-night, probably, and 
 the whole coach is engaged for to-morrow to take us 
 back to Morelia, or rather to the railroad, which is 
 halfway. We have been a week, and it has been very 
 amusing. Mrs. Church is lots better^ and Mr. Church 
 
166 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 is delighted with the place. Still I am dying to see 
 my trunk, which may be mashed under others at the 
 Morelia station, and we are both longing for letters, 
 which must be there, I think by this time. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Summer at Matunuck, 1886 — Winter in Paris with 
 her nephew, Philip L. Hale — Spring in Spain, 
 1887 — Matunuck, 1887 — Matunuck again, 
 . 1888. 
 
 (1886-1888) 
 
 To Miss Lucketia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, May 29, 1886. 
 Month last evening I left Mexico! 
 
 dear LUC, — Seems as though I had skurse writ- 
 ten you enough this week, as I have been terrible 
 busy with setting to rights and the Index of Spain; 
 so as I don't feel like tackling my daily jorum of 
 said index, and do feel like writing to you, I will 
 anticipate the Sunday, as I may not feel like writing 
 then. (IsTot that I generally write you on Sunday, 
 as that is your day.) 
 
 I probably feel like addressing you because it's 
 deliciously warm this morning. You know it is not 
 always here ; yet, indeed, there is much to be desired 
 in that respect, for howling winds prevail most of 
 the time, but this morning is simply perfect. I had 
 my breakfast in the front door, with the siui slanting 
 across the porch, and all sweet airs and sounds com- 
 ing in. The breakfast was excellent, faultless coffee, 
 rich cream, browoi sugar, nice butter, fresh eggs (the 
 gift of Cornelia Franklin), dropped by myself on 
 toast made of bread, providentially driven to the 
 door yesterday by the Wakefield baker. My pretty 
 china, the fruits of Christmas presents in a great 
 measure, enables me to have all red ware, with the 
 
168 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 sugar in a little red Guadalajara tub. Jane suc- 
 ceeded this morning in only introducing one dish of 
 a different pattern. This is her passion, though 
 there are plenty of things that match, to suddenly 
 spring on me a blue plate, with butter, in the midst 
 of my red group — though just as likes the night be- 
 fore when all was blue, the butter came on red. But 
 why mention these vagaries. I don't even regret 
 them. . . . 
 
 I believe my idea was to tell you of my walk to 
 Cornelia's yesterday. The days are so immensely 
 long, that by starting at five-thirty there is time for 
 anything. So I finished my old green and red plaid 
 skirt (which I have all ripped, sponged, and ironed, 
 and put together again since I came), put it on, and 
 strolled forth. It is enchanting outdoors, just that 
 fascinating hint of green to come, on all the trees. 
 
 In the distance I saw Cornelia at her tubs. It 
 was a pretty picture. The sun was slanting over her 
 old house and a mass of lilac bushes, or rather im- 
 mense lilac trees which overtop and surround the 
 house. Her celebrated fly-honeysuckle is all in 
 flower, and there, close to it, she stood, such a good 
 bit of colour, brown herself, with a red gown and 
 her grey, short, crisp hair blowing about her fore- 
 head. " Well, there. Miss Susy, I beared as you was 
 come ! " She is cleaning " haouse," as most of them 
 are here, which consists in setting everything out- 
 doors for the moment, beds, rocking-chairs, pots and 
 pans, and especially stone jugs, which seem a great 
 article of furniture here. She was really employed 
 in scraping the putty from a window-casement, and 
 washing the panes, which she had removed from the 
 house, and had resting across the wash-tub. Of 
 course she gave me plenty " loilacs " and honey- 
 suckles, and eke half a dozen fresh eggs in a peach 
 basket, which proved to be eight when I got them 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAIN 169 
 
 home, which I did in great fear and trembling, on 
 account of so many fences to climb, as I came all up 
 round Long Pond, . . . pausing for the sunset on 
 Ingham's pesk. It was a quarter of eight when I 
 arrived here, found Jane "loighting" the fire, not 
 yet quite dark. 
 
 I 've got a great mass of lilacs and dwarf cherry 
 blossom in my Appleton vase, which, though broken, 
 lends itself to these uses. Real Solomon's-seal and 
 eurigeron or robins' plantain in a blue beer-mug, 
 wistaria from Aunty in my red bowl. These two on 
 the mantelpiece. Fly-honeysuckle in my glass jug, 
 — and Margy's glass pail full of great jack-in-the- 
 pulpits, side-saddle flower, trientalis and two are- 
 thusas on my davenport where I write. Jander sits 
 on the corner shelf, and the donkey by the hearth. 
 'Palus keeps the bookcase doors to. Thus you see 
 how delightfully dawdling it is, — as I just stopped 
 to look out the Aster in the Botany. But I am busy 
 all day long; the great sticker is the length of time 
 required to read the newspapers! I take in three, 
 the Daily, Prov. Journal, and N. Y. Comm. Adver- 
 tiser, which being an evening paper, gets here quite 
 fresh the next day, — thus I have news of three 
 periods, morning before, evening before, and same 
 day. As they all say the same thing, — spiders, with 
 eyes all round, would read them at the same time — 
 since it is only necessary for the brain to grasp one 
 impression which could be done at once. (This sug- 
 gestion seems to me quite in your vein.) 
 
 You see I breakfast at seven-thirty. Fool outdoors 
 with killing aphides and the like till about eight- 
 thirty. Write letters tiU early mail, then do Index 
 till " abaout " noon. Then see about dinner, perhaps 
 cook something, otherwise clear out closets, drawers, 
 rooms, attics, of which there seems always no end. 
 Diimer table set anywhere it is v/arm enough, either 
 
170 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 by sun or wood-fire, if required. !N'ewspapers and 
 outdoors dawdling till 2 p. m. then sewing till five, 
 diversified by p. m. tea. Long walks or visit to 
 Aunty, or both, — home, as aforesaid, for evening 
 meal (slight) at eight — then more newspapers, and 
 whatever novel there is time for till nine, bedtime — 
 but last night I sate with Jander over " La Morte " 
 and crackling fire till ten-thirty! Ain't it nice! 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Ehode Island, 
 September H, 1886. 
 
 . . . The young people had a merry time here 
 through August and went off singing my praises and 
 those of Hotel Susan. But there is a good deal of 
 clatter and bang about running such a household, and 
 I now feel like a fool, or a squeezed lemon, or a 
 pricked balloon, or any of these things. There is 
 nobody here now but Philip, may the Lord be 
 praised! . . . 
 
 We have all been writing Lives of Great Men, 
 which all of course remind us we can make our lives 
 sublime, but also give us a good sum of money, for 
 a sort of text-book for schools, telling who horned 
 them and when they died. It was a great hack job 
 for a publisher, and Jack, Welly, Papa, and I have 
 been cramming up and scribbling down at the rate 
 of two lives in three days, — Schiller, Rousseau, Car- 
 lyle, etc., etc., — eighty of them! We couldn't open 
 our mouths without a date or a fact coming out in 
 the life of some great man. We are getting over it 
 a little now, and don't mention an incident in the 
 life of Burns or Voltaire oftener than once in half 
 an hour. . . . 
 
 Susan. 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAIN lYl 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, Tuesday, 
 September IJ^, 1886. 
 dear LUC, . . . We settled do^vn to a nice little 
 trio, and I was glad to have Papa taste the sweets 
 of the small regime; we breakfast and dine on the 
 piazza, which he greatly likes, and don't seriously 
 object to the superior luxuries of cooking which be- 
 come possible. We at once (all three in fact) fell 
 to on " Lives," and nothing was heard but the scratch- 
 ing of pens, and some incident in the life of a great 
 man dropping from the cyclopedia into the mill. I 
 finished Schiller and Voltaire, and prepared the an- 
 ecdotes for Papa's " Victor Hugo." Phil, did most 
 of his " Goethe," and he himself (with dictation and 
 much reading aloud by me of Longfellow) did Burns, 
 Tennyson, Longfellow, Goethe, Emerson, and Hugo, 
 in the days between Thursday and Monday p. m., 
 besides his leader for Lend-a-Hand and getting up 
 the oration for cattle fair! 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss Lijceetia P. Hale 
 
 Chateau Lafite, Wednesday, 
 January 19, 1887. 
 deae LUC, — It is raining, just simply raining as 
 it might any northeast day at Matunuck, and not too 
 cold for me to sit up in the fumoir to write. . . . 
 
 Yendredi, le '21, January, 1887. 
 
 Figurez-vous, mu, soeur, la plaisir de me trouver 
 
 encore une fois sur le pont, apres deux jours d'un 
 
 temps affreux (but not dangerous at all). In other 
 
 words, the same day I was writing, we found our- 
 
172 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 selves le soir in le trou des didbles, in English "off 
 the Banks," for it seems we were not yet rid of New- 
 foundland. Such a racket and toss there was that 
 night, bang, bang, bang, slatterj, rattly, everything 
 on the loose, and not a moment quiet till the morning ; 
 everybody sick again, and only '' mon commandant " 
 and me at breakfast. The trouble is, besides, that 
 with the deck so wet and everything shut on account 
 of great seas, it was impossible to get any air. But 
 last evening it was calm, and to-day, after a lovely 
 night of sleep, I mounted to find delicious sunshine 
 for the first time in five days, and the sky all fleecy 
 Avith delicious clouds. Philip and I have been walk- 
 ing about and afterwards basking on deck, and it is 
 just as nice as summer, with ordinary wraps. The 
 first time I have put on my boots for many a day, 
 slippers sufficing below. 
 
 I will now give you some account of our passen- 
 gers, who are really very amusing. (I feel, by the 
 way, that my voyage letter is always a mere repeti- 
 tion of the last trip I made whatever it was, but that 
 can't be helped.) The captain is very worthy. I sit 
 on his right ; he comes swooping along the deck from 
 his passerelle, to meals, like Neptune, in bad weather, 
 all done up in tarpaidins, which he sheds in the 
 fumoir. I am generally there getting a little air, and 
 perhaps Philip is, also, whom the captain encourages, 
 both as to his French and his mal de mer. You must 
 know there is a cat on board, the sweetest pussy, be- 
 longing to the captain. He is " verry " nice with her, 
 and she sits up in the empty chairs swaying from 
 side to side with the motion of the ship, like any old 
 salt, at all the meals. 
 
 Next the captain, a gauche, and opposite me is a 
 great personage we call Maximilian. He is Secretary 
 of State in Mexico, lives in Guadalajara, saw shot 
 I'empereur, apparently, speaks five languages, and 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAI^^ 173 
 
 lies copiously in all. A very lively camarade, owns 
 to fifty-two years. Just the kind of man to exist on 
 a voyage or in a novel. lie talks English very well, 
 but we use French on account of the captain, and the 
 yarns of these two on every subject, from the life of 
 the inhabitants of Jupiter to the habits of the por- 
 poise, are well worth listening to. Next Maximilian 
 sits the Dominie^ a Scotch Parson bom in America, 
 with a very slow voice. He tries to do a little French 
 prepared beforehand, every day, as, ^' Avez-vous oys- 
 ters en France?" to which the obliging captain re- 
 plies, " Oh, yes, so much ! " 'Next is the Inca, or 
 Argentine, a young, handsome South American, who 
 has just had his fling in New York, and is going 
 back to B. Ayres via Bordeaux. He speaks a little 
 English, a little French, mostly Spanish ; is very 
 intelligent about Chili and Peru, often discussed at 
 table ; but I fancy he drinks in the evening by him- 
 self. Perhaps not. IsText me comes Philip, but more 
 frequently goes — for he bravely each time places 
 himself at table to snatch the fearful joy of a chop, 
 and then disapj)ears to get rid of it. ISText him But- 
 ler, an Ohio boy, with great black eyes like a faithful 
 hound, and the same sort of patient endurance. He 
 isn't sick, but don't say much. Philip is fond of 
 him and I accept him, just as if he had been round 
 from the beginning of the world. He has found a 
 companion we call the " Laundry-man," who sits at 
 the other table. For this is the whole of our table 
 now described; at the other, are or ought to be, la 
 dame et son mari, a little squealing Parisienne, nou- 
 velle mariee, who prefers to lie on the sofa by our 
 table all the time, and be petted by Maximilian, the 
 Inca, and her husband, Edouard, who is a poor thing, 
 chetif and pale; they are going to Barcelone, and 
 have a valet and femme de cliamhre, in the other part 
 of the ship. These play cards in the evening, and 
 
174 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 talk disgusting French nonsense most of tlie time; 
 we have no great commerce with them. But the 
 table-talk is immensely amusing to follow and join. 
 
 Well, then, there 's Sophie, the femme de chamhre, 
 just getting over her sickness, Alsacienne, very loqua- 
 cious. She makes Philip talk, and tliinks he will 
 soon learn French. Also Avril, a very worthy garqon 
 with whiskers, who takes an intense interest in us; 
 and ^' MaUre-d' Hotel " the head (and only) steward, 
 who is sad and superior, but friendly. 
 
 Evenings, I read "She" in the salon to Philip lying 
 on the sofa there ; at eight they bring a vile stuff they 
 call " tea," with little biscuits. Everybody is there, 
 but such a racket of rolling, there is not much com- 
 merce. Only Butler plays sometimes, on the piano, 
 all sorts of things by ear, like Berty. But to-day all 
 changes with the lovely weather, and all the world 
 is laughing. 
 
 Et maintenant nous sommes arrives au dimancJie, 
 23 d, — going on very well, with lovely weather. 
 We came out of the tivu des diables all safe, and in 
 the balmy air of the Azores (three hundred miles 
 away) found a true del de Mexique as " Maximil- 
 ian" says. I find it a very agreeable voyage. . . . 
 
 I love to engage Maximilian in great yarns, when 
 he is not playing cards with the squealing French 
 dame et son mari. She has lately taken on a new 
 access of mal de mer, and don't appear. He is chock 
 full of Mexican tales, which, if I could keep them 
 in my head, would be great for my book, if, more- 
 over, I could believe them. He told us at length, in 
 English last evening, the shooting of Maximilian 
 which he saw, and how he himself escaped to Vera 
 Cruz afterwards and went straight to the Empress 
 at Vienna. His propriete is all in Michoacan and 
 Jalisco, and he has crossed from Guadalajara to 
 Patzcuaro over Lake Chapula, the very way Churches 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAIN 175 
 
 are dying to go, only we didn't know how. He 
 swears the R. R. to Guadalajara will be done next 
 JsTovember, and promises me letters to sa famille and 
 all the notables of G. This will water the mouths of 
 Churches and Janviers! Altogether he reminds me 
 a good deal of T. G. A. in his endless resource of 
 anecdote, and cheerfulness. . . . 
 
 Va sans dire that he lies like a Mexican — Espa- 
 gnol, Frangais, — but what does that signify to fill 
 up the time ? He is in the Mexican Corps Diploma- 
 tique, his title is Secretary, but he is not so high in 
 office as he should be, a cause de his imperialistic 
 tendencies. Spent last winter in Washington, and 
 is now sent to London. 
 
 Funny thing, as there is no printed list of pas- 
 sengers, nobody knows anybody's name. Perhaps you 
 do ! If you have seen any list of our passengers, send 
 it to me! P. S. His name is Pacheco. Good 
 name. . . 
 
 Mercredi, 26. 
 Well, well, my dear, ce Golfe de Gascoigne ! Since 
 writing this last we have been through a frightful 
 racket. It began to roll soon after I stopped writ- 
 ing above, and by bedtime things were very wobbly. 
 It seemed my bed was wet through with drippings 
 from the deck ; so they changed me over to the other 
 side ; but the fence to this new bed was not high 
 enough, so that all night, I slept but few winks, for 
 there was a devil of weather, rolling, clothing bang- 
 ing, and waking every minute to clutch at some- 
 thing, for I was really afraid of falling out into the 
 swamp, full of riparian reptiles, which we call my 
 carpet. In the morning I was the only one up. The 
 captain didn't come to breakfast, and Max, when he 
 arrived, was in a bad humour, on account of the 
 rough night, and his bed being wet; but this was 
 
176 LETTERS OF SUSA:N HALE 
 
 nothing to the day we passed later on, the worst busi- 
 ness I have ever had at sea. Phil, lay on one sofa, 
 I on the other, braced against the table by my legs 
 at right angles, to prevent falling off. Great seas 
 sloshing over the ship with a whang ! bang ! and from 
 time to time, crash ! some glass broken, which let 
 buckets of water down to the entry pouring down- 
 stairs then leaping in here, and wetting all the floor. 
 By three it grew dark, for it was pouring and blow- 
 ing. The servants hollered French to each other and 
 sopped up here and there, shrieking for the carpenter, 
 who never came. We seemed sort of abandoned at 
 our end of the ship, for the deck was almost impas- 
 sable and the captain and all, were away off at the 
 other end. Finally the cook made his appearance, 
 and a great parley was held. Meanwhile Max, But- 
 ler, and I met in the salle a manger, holding on to 
 posts and chatted a little. At dinner time a brave 
 marin all in tarpaulins brought the soup, and after- 
 wards the other dishes; for you understand the 
 kitchen is well forward, and all the dishes have to 
 cross the whole length of the ship with great seas 
 breaking over at every moment. We had a merry 
 meal, holding glasses and plates not to slop. The 
 Laundry-man leaned back in his chair^ and it broke 
 off all the legs, precipitating him under the table. 
 He got up with a pain in his back, and renounced 
 the idea of dinner. The Argentine was in bed, so 
 was la dame. The captain could not join us. Pussy 
 sat in his chair; she is very lovely, and slants with 
 the motion of the ship till she is nearly parallel. 
 Every few minutes, slash ! a great wave sweeps over 
 the ship, sets everything sliding, pours down every 
 crack ; the lamps swing and smoke, we laugh, or look 
 serious, and wonder what next ! Such is de Golfe de 
 Gascoigne. Heureiisement, it got more quiet before 
 bedtime. I had a new plank put up in the bed, and 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAIN 177 
 
 Butler lent me his pillow, mine being wet through. 
 A delicious quiet pervaded the ship, and we all slept 
 like angels, to the calm, regular motion of a reason- 
 able ocean. This morning the storm is over, the sun 
 shines, we are all on deck, and all the world is 
 happy. But we are detained by all this twenfy-four 
 hours, and shan't arrive, apparently, till Thursday 
 night. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 13 RUE d'Algee, Paris, Friday, 
 February 18, 1887. 
 DEAR LUC, — ... I will go ou to narrate 
 Wednesday, which was a rather interesting day. 
 (They are all interesting as they go on; I am hav- 
 ing a splendid time, but not all worth writing about. ) 
 I gat me forth after the labours of my writing, about 
 twelve, as usual, and started for lunch, stopping at 
 the tobacco shop to stamp my letters. The Church 
 St. Koch is just opposite, and people were swarming 
 in. " C est un enterrementf " I asked of the tobacco- 
 lady, — for it generally is. " Oh, no, marm, it 's 
 une noce." Une noce! so I thought I would go over 
 and see. I slipt in at the side door behind a cou- 
 turiere's girl going home with a bandbox, and found 
 myself in a somewhat crowd inside, but could step 
 up on a sort of height where I saw well the broad 
 aisle. At the door there were two gold-sticks in wait- • 
 ing, in old gold and crushed-strawberry liveries, and 
 two by two the guests came in and stood in the aisle 
 sideways until it was all filled up in rows on each 
 side, understand ? These persons were pretty young 
 girls in light or white street costumes with hats or 
 bonnets, stout mamas, or praiseworthy fathers, the 
 latter in dress-suits, white cravats, and white kid 
 
178 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 gloves. An old gentleman next me, who engaged me 
 in conversation, told me these were the "parents et 
 les invites" because they came in carriages, the other 
 people filling up v^^hat would be pews, only there are 
 none, were des curieux, like ourselves. This person 
 by the way, feigned amazement that I was etrangere, 
 " Mais vous hahitez Paris, Madame ! " We could n't 
 talk much for the gold-sticks came down with a great 
 pung! " Ce sont les mariees," my man whispered; 
 the band, I mean organ, set up Da! Da! dy dar-dy 
 da-dy (i.e., Mendelssohn's wedding march), and the 
 party pranced up the aisle much as with us, and van- 
 ished among the candles far away upon the altar, 
 the bride with veil, on the arm of her parent or 
 guardian, the mother I guess with her gendre to be, 
 and then all " les invites,"*^ who had been in rows, fell 
 in behind and made a procession which ate up its 
 own tail so to speak, those being first which were 
 last, according to Scripture. I went away then, for 
 no use trying to get near the ceremony. All this 
 made me late to lunch, and the friendly Duval man 
 and maids said, "Monsieur est parti, Madame." 
 "Dejdl" I ejaculated, and ate alone. I then went 
 up Opera Street and across the town to our dreary 
 bankers to haul out some money. The usual moss 
 on the doorstep, signs of decay and decrepitude ; dust 
 in heaps on the book of arrivals, and our names the 
 last inscribed. The clerk waked from the nap he 
 dropped into ten days ago when we left him, and 
 handed me a letter which arrived just after that 
 event. Managed to find some aged billets de hanque 
 for me, scraped the mould from the ink bottle and 
 furnished me with the first steel pen ever coined. 
 Forgive this waste of paper on this faded pleasantry ; 
 but such is Perier Freres. 
 
 Being in that region I accomplished a visit on our 
 excellent compagnons de voyage from Bordeaux, I 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAIN 170 
 
 must have written about them, they were so cordial 
 in the train, and I had promised to visit them. They 
 are milliners, and have an immense great maison de 
 modes, " Madame Valerie Leopold," in a great sign 
 all across the building. I found her sitting among 
 customers and bonnets on sticks just like any grand 
 milliner chez nous. The madame she was waiting 
 on was telling her about her son's marriage which 
 she had just got nicely fixed, with a suitable dot and 
 unexceptionable daughter (joke!). She sighed as 
 she spoke and Madame Valerie heaved a fat sigh and 
 said, 
 
 " Le manage ! c'est la destinee I " 
 
 '^ Oui, Madame! c'est la destinee! Bonjour, 
 Madame.^' 
 
 "Bonjour, Madame^ 
 
 Meanwhile I had been persuading the head wait- 
 ing-woman to do over my small green bonnet then 
 on my head (and they have sent for it, and it hasn't 
 come back yet), and then Madame Valerie, being at 
 leisure, sent for her mari and we had great epanche- 
 ments. I consulted them on many things; in fact, 
 they are useful friends, Parisian to the end of their 
 finger-nails, with no object in cheating me. They 
 told me of an apartment, big studio, bedroom and 
 kitchen, for five hundred francs, one hundred dollars 
 a year ! and if I were to live here with Phil., we could 
 establish a nice little menage. Not furnished, you 
 know, but as Madame remarked, mon dieu, the trifle 
 to throw in a bed and quelques meuhles. But don't 
 be alarmed I shall be home by May 1. These folks 
 live over in Chateaudon, so not far from rue Ber- 
 gere, where I sort of think the Marcous were ; a very- 
 good neighbourhood. 
 
 I then filled up half an hour with the enchanting 
 water-colour exhibition, second time seeing, and at 
 quarter of four took cab for Mrs. Greene who expects 
 
180 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 us every Wednesday — but Phil, was busy. There 
 this time were Dr. Sturgis Hooper and Mary Ed- 
 mund Quincy again. She is really very bright and 
 nice. I say young — call it forty. After Dr. Hooper 
 left we had a great talk a trois, — just what Mrs. 
 Greene likes, gossip, politics, Jews, Buddhism, Bos- 
 ton, really very good fun, — interrupted by a young 
 Shaw nephew and his pretty wife, and I fled, for it 
 was late, and when I got home having hurtled down 
 the Faubourg St. Honore on foot at a rattling pace, 
 Phil, had lighted the lamps, poked the fire, and begun 
 to wonder if I had abandoned him. You know Mrs. 
 Greene receives in bed, all done up in white lace with 
 white kid gloves on, the bed stre^^Ti with the latest 
 literature, newspapers, etc., a little table with tea 
 close to her side. (But all the rest of the week she 
 is up and about, rattling round to receptions, climb- 
 ing up-stairs, as brisk as you please — just my favour- 
 ite scheme of being bedridden.) . . . 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 13 EUE d' Alger, Paris, March W, 1887. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — Strange things have occurred which 
 I must reveal before coming to the great fat budget 
 of letters we received yesterday, yours of March 6 
 and others same date, some of Phil.'s even Monday 7, 
 which is really quick, being within the two weeks. 
 
 Well, I am going to Spain ! I can't hardly believe 
 it myself, it seems so singular. It won't make much 
 difference to you people at home, as I shall not be, 
 I hope, much later in getting back, certainly before 
 June 1 and I leave here, — Paris, — just the same 
 time I had meant to. Perhaps you will have heard 
 of this in America and know more about it than I 
 
MATUNUCK, PAEIS, SPAIN 181 
 
 do. You must know that Wednesday evening when I 
 came home from dining chez Mrs. Greene, I found a 
 telegram from iN". Y. sent through old Periers. You 
 can guess if I was scared, as we were then (and are 
 still) worried about the accident on the Prov. R. R. 
 It was from Mr. Church and said : — " Will you take 
 a trip to Spain with Fanny and John Johnston 
 April 10 ? Expenses paid." I was considerably 
 knocked at this and went to bed. Philip was out, and 
 I couldn't consult him till next morning, when he 
 visited me as usual after I had waked him at six- 
 thirty. ... I concluded to answer thus (by cable) : 
 " Delighted, if short. Must be home before June." 
 
 We then had an interval of great anguish, hoping 
 the Johnstons would fall out of window and break 
 their necks, so I need n't do anything about it — but, 
 lo ! yesterday p. m. came the fatal flimsy, blue paper, 
 saying thus : " Delighted. Sail 26th for Havre ; hope 
 to start quickly for Seville. Johnston." . . . 
 
 You see it is a chance to go through my beloved 
 Spain again, and my idea is to come home in one 
 of those fruit-steamers from Gibraltar, so it will be 
 all on my way. If we get off from here the tenth, 
 I may sail for home by May 1 ! I suppose they are 
 let to ask me, because I can do a little Spanish. On 
 the whole, I think it is a lovely plan of the Churches 
 and Johnstons ; still you will pardon this goose-flesh, 
 caused by being so in the dark. Doubtless they are 
 all writing me letters to-day, which I shall get in 
 time to know what we are to do ; meanwhile, I don't 
 see my way clear about a few things, but they will 
 come out right, I suppose. Of course, the point is 
 expenses paid, otherwise I should not think of 
 it. . , . 
 
182 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 GiBRALTAE, Saturday, April 23, 1887. 
 
 DEAE LUC, — Here we are, you see, under the pro- 
 tection of the Henglish Lion, which is a strange sen- 
 sation right in the thick of Spanish emotions. But 
 I must not describe his roar to you yet (though you 
 can imagine me with my very best English accent 
 on), for I am much behindhand in narrative. In 
 fact these young companions are such active travel- 
 lers that we have but little time to write. . . . 
 
 Sunday p. m. we had a lovely drive to Italica, 
 which I am delighted not to have missed. It is an 
 old Roman amphitheatre, which I have described 
 without seeing in all my works on Spain. The sweet- 
 est old overgrown place, with galleries and ranks of 
 seats still left, and traces of its old purpose, — but 
 poppies and all bright flowers growing in the crevices 
 of the old crumbly stones, and thick turf everywhere. 
 We came home through the fair grounds where every- 
 thing was in a merry state of preparation ; and 
 
 Monday morning, we were there betimes. It is 
 just like a great cattle show, exactly, only Spanish, 
 with gipsies and peasants; but, alas! they have all 
 given up their costumes, no majos, nor short petti- 
 coats nor even pannelas. However, we had lots of 
 fun looking at the things, booths with toys, etc. . . . 
 
 But, then, my dear, — then, — we went to the 
 bull-fight Monday afternoon ! ! Yes, Me, at the bull- 
 fight. It was perfectly horrible, sickening, disgust- 
 ing. I went because Miss J. was determined to go, 
 and you know we are interested in Mazantini, the 
 great toreador. On the whole it is just as well, be- 
 cause now I can use all my powers of speech to ex- 
 hort others not to go. That 's all I will say now. . . . 
 Rafe Curtis was on the seat in front of us in the 
 same box (son of Daniel, now an artist, used to be 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAIN 183 
 
 little boy at my Chestnut Hill school). In the eve- 
 ning we went again to the fair grounds, and saw fire- 
 works, and then the thing to do is to walk from booth 
 to booth and look in. This is very amusing. These 
 are built close to each other along each street so to 
 speak (but slightly put up, as if on the Common), 
 and families hire them for the whole fair. Open to 
 the street, the three other sides are furnished with 
 looking-glass, sofas, etc., more or less, according to 
 taste, and here they sit, worthy people, inviting their 
 friends (or eke us) to come in. The fat mama in 
 a rock-chair, in mantilla and fan, and nice daughters 
 sitting roimd with guitars, and Peabody boys on 
 hand. These propose something, and from time to 
 time, you and Billy Bohby Ware (for example) get 
 up with castanets and dance the gavotte, while people 
 of all sorts crowd round the open entrance, but the 
 performers seem quite unconscious of these outsiders, 
 and when the dance is over they sit down and chat 
 till the spirit moves again. We hurried from one to 
 another to see as many as possible. There were hun- 
 dreds of these booths ! ! Sometimes Mary Hall would 
 obligingly sit at the piano, while Almira opened her 
 mouth and sang a kind of Andalusion caterwaul; at 
 others, it was as if I should do the Lapland cottagers' 
 song. Of course I use these names from lack of 
 knowing those of the Seville family ones. It was 
 very worthy — only they now wear, you know, just 
 light-grey or any woollen dresses cut like ours, with 
 waists, overskirts, etc., nothing like costume, except 
 occasionally the little children, and here and there 
 some pretty girls who had " dressed up " d la Sevil- 
 lana, as we might at Thanksgiving — you know it 
 was not at all for pay, but for their own pleasure — 
 only hospitality demanded that the crowd should be 
 allowed to look on, — there was no franc or peseta 
 business about it whatever. 
 
184 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 By this time we had had quite enough of the fair, 
 and Tuesday we were off for Cadiz, after such a wal- 
 lowing with Miss Butcher. She came to us, sur- 
 rounded us, swallowed us up; but was so kind and 
 useful that we loved her. You will find it hard to 
 picture Mary Curzon in a mantilla and prayer-book 
 taking Miss Johnston to see a Spanish Baron who 
 sells Moorish tiles ; but you must, for it 's exact. She 
 wanted books to read, and Miss Johnston lent her 
 our Story of Spain! which she and her sister sat 
 up late to devour, so much they were pleased with 
 it. . . . Good-bye, in haste. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Lttceetia P. Hale 
 
 " Alhambea " ! Geanada, Siete Suelos, 
 April 30, 1887. 
 
 DEAE LUC, — ... So I will composo myself to 
 narration. We are very happy to be settled to-day 
 in this lovely place without having to start off for 
 anywhere. Arrived late last night, and tumbled into 
 bed tired as dogs as you will see. This morning the 
 joy of getting at our trunks, changing clothes, etc., 
 is so great that we have no thought as yet of sight- 
 seeing. In fact, it is simply enchanting to be here, 
 in a lovely salon, with great windows opened wide on 
 little balconies, shaded by leafy elms, birds singing, 
 otherwise no sound but the rushing water, and an 
 occasional dear donkey setting up his bray. The 
 place has all the cKarm I hoped it would, coming 
 back, and no disappointment. ... 
 
 We only spent one night at Gibraltar, Tuesday, 
 in solemn preparation for the Eonda Eide. This I 
 want to describe to you with great detail, so I will 
 pass over a lively talk at the " Eoyal " with a jolly 
 
MATUNUCK, PAKIS, SPAIN 185 
 
 old gentleman, who turned out later to be Sir John 
 Hanbury, an eminent physician, sent out to Gibraltar 
 for two months. He had just arrived in a P. and O. 
 steamer, and when the other passengers saw that we 
 knew " Sir John," they bowed before us in awe; when 
 I turned to one of them and said, "Who was that 
 pleasant old gentleman who just went out?" they 
 gasped in amazement. 
 
 At five o'clock on Wednesday we were called, and 
 after the usual delays, we actually stalked out over 
 the clattering streets of Gibraltar on horses! Mine 
 was a very tall one. The procession was this: 1st. 
 The guide, called by us " Polonius " on account of 
 his characteristics. 2nd. Miss J. on a lively white 
 horse. 3rd. John J. on a bro^vn horse. 4. Me, on a 
 great long-legged beast we named "Major Dobbin." 
 
 5. Two trunlvs on a mule surmounted by a man. 
 
 6. Another mule with all the rest of the baggage, 
 rugs, straps, etc., and our lunch. Fancy if it re- 
 minded me of our journey in Syria. I was fain to 
 compare myself with you, for, on calculating, I find 
 I am now four years older than you were then, and 
 far more decrepit ; still I held out well, and the com- 
 panions were very considerate of my infirmities. We 
 sallied out of Gibraltar towards Spain, over a nar- 
 row strip of land called " the neutral ground." There 
 is sort of a bridge there, and a toll-house ; and here 
 my horse, who was walking very slow, thought he 
 would go back to Gibraltar. The others all went 
 ahead without noticing; I had no whip, and wasn't 
 sure about pulling the bridle, as it was a curb-bit. 
 There was a great snarl of people, donkeys, carts, 
 etc., and there we stuck with his head towards Gib. 
 " Don't be afraid ! " called the toll-man in English. 
 I saw Polonius galloping back, and soon he arrived, 
 seized, with great scorn (of my powers), the rope 
 round my horse's neck, and led us out of town. This 
 
186 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 was rather a bad beginning, and ignominious, as 
 Miss J. is an experienced rider, but my terror was 
 so great that I didn't mind anything — it is so long 
 since I have been in practice, and this horse was so 
 very tall, it seemed a great distance to the ground. 
 I will hasten to say that Dobbin, soon came to behave 
 very well, and I grew very happy with him. He no 
 longer had to be led, and, in fact, proved the best 
 horse of the lot on the second day, when Miss J.'s 
 lively animal began to flag. She, by the way, brought 
 all this distance a regular riding-habit, trousers, and 
 all, of light grey, while I climbed up my horse in 
 my usual dark-green travelling dress. But, after all, 
 I was just as comfortable as she was, and less bother 
 on touching terra firma to be in a Christian, gown. 
 We soon began on that elation of spirits which comes 
 from being up early, outdoors and on horses. The 
 day was lovely. Gibraltar rose behind us, and we 
 galloped along a beach of the Mediterranean Sea 
 with little waves breaking over the horses' feet. (I 
 didn't much like this galloping business and was 
 thankful that ever afterwards there was no good 
 enough road for it, and we went on a walk.) Soon 
 we began to go up and up through fields delicious 
 with flowers, still views of the sea, but mountains 
 coming on in front, over a narrow bridle-path. We 
 rode perhaps four hours, and then stopped at a little 
 house to repose, — not even a posada, but just friends 
 of Polonius, as it were. When I came down off my 
 horse I was stiffer than a log, and so, indeed, were 
 the companions. They invited us to a pretty room, 
 where they set out knives, forks, etc., and by and by 
 when the mules arrived, Polonius brought out from 
 saddle-bags the lunch we had brought. Meanwhile 
 we were resting, wandering about a sweet garden, 
 gathering nasturtiums, which grow wild all through 
 here with a delicate sort of Dutchman's pipe, more 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAIN 187 
 
 twining than that of 39 Highland Street. There was 
 a very nice Spanish cat at that place, a perro, a couple 
 of pigs, and hens, who all formed part of the family, 
 all worthy people. Again to horse, and jogging along, 
 the scene growing wilder. Our second rest was in 
 a lovely place, we called the oasis, tall trees planted 
 near a delicious spring, and a family living in a sort 
 of thatched hut with a donkey. After that we began 
 to follow the bed of a river, constantly fording it! 
 The first time we feared greatly, for the strong cur- 
 rent wet the stomachs of the horses, even my tall 
 Dobbin, but we soon got used to it and loved it. This 
 river was very full on account of recent rains, a 
 brawling kind of torrent, sometimes flattened over 
 broad sand places, sunny, not too hot, and fresh 
 spring greens everywhere. The oleander, which was 
 so pink three years ago, is only in bud, but other 
 shrubs are out, and all manner of low-on-the-ground 
 flowers. Polonius, w^ho is a stupid old person, ex- 
 pounded things in Spanish ; — he was a very faithful 
 guide, and knew all the right stopping places, etc., 
 through constant doing the same route. We reached 
 the foot of the mountains about 5 p. m. After a last 
 rest, we began to climb, climb a very steep path, 
 meeting people that seemed like forty thieves coming 
 down with mules, scenery very wild, but not terrific. 
 At last awfully tired, after sunset we reached Gaucin 
 at the very top of everything, a beetling Moorish town 
 stuck up there for safety, years ago, with a Moorish 
 castle amongst it, the tiled roofs so brown and old 
 you could hardly tell where houses ended and cliffs 
 began. We clattered through the narrow street, all 
 Gaucin at our heels, and were lifted off our horses 
 to fall upon beds. It was a sweet hotel. The host 
 very worthy. A real fonda with up-stairs and down- 
 stairs, and a funny room for us women, with two 
 beds, we think belonging to the hosts themselves. In 
 
188 LETTEES OF SUSA^ HALE 
 
 the morning I was looking off a lovely little balcony 
 away down into the ravine^ when a neighbour made 
 signs from his garden, would I like some lilacs. I 
 nodded, and saw him order a seTiora to pick them, and 
 then a miichacha brought them round, out of his 
 garden door and through a back street to our front 
 door. A great delicious bunch for each of us, a white 
 rose apiece, and a sprig of mint. All Gaucin as be- 
 fore was at the door to see us mount. The animals 
 came up from the cellar, where they had spent the 
 night, the packs were put on them, and after the 
 usual dawdling we were off for our second day on 
 horse, after an excellent breakfast the host made him- 
 self in the kitchen right off the dining-room, so we 
 heard him beating the eggs. I was pleased that the 
 hotel was so good, for at first it seemed I should have 
 to live there always, I was so stiff that first night; 
 but 'tis wonderful how a good sleep brought me round. 
 Thursday we were winding round a maze of moun- 
 tains sometimes up, sometimes down, but always 
 high, — now looking back towards Gaucin, now turn- 
 ing towards Ronda. Our lunch place was a posada 
 where the horses had the first place, ourselves next. 
 It was a paved stable, some men were playing domi- 
 noes at a round table, and we had a table given us to 
 eat our food on. All the to-wn at the door, which 
 gave all the light, as there were no windows. That 
 day we saw few trees, and on the whole, the scenery 
 was not intensely interesting, not great crags, but a 
 great deal of somewhat monotonous up and do^vn. 
 Still, it was all beautiful, flowers, flowers everywhere, 
 hawthorn, wild roses, no trees anywhere — at last we 
 began to see Ronda afar off over a plain at the foot 
 of our hills. It took long to reach. Certainly a won- 
 derful place, and well worth the trip, even apart 
 from the fun of horses. It is very old to begin with, 
 Roman, then Moor, always with the reputation of 
 
MATUISrUCK, PARIS, SPAIN 189 
 
 cantankerousness, on account of its fast position on 
 toj) a steep precipice of hundreds of feet. This again 
 is so mixed betAveen old masonry and the rock that 
 jou can't tell which is which. They built the wall 
 of the town into the jags of the precipice. The river 
 brawls at the foot, turning Moorish mills, and rushing 
 off to water all the fertile fields in the neighbourhood. 
 
 At last we reached it. It is a gi-eat handsome, 
 proud city, the new part with broad streets, alamedas, 
 churches, with all the honest dignity of a centre not 
 degraded by railroads — or even, you know, car- 
 riages ! In the middle of the town is a grand bridge 
 built over the tajo or chasm. This bridge is the 
 market-place and nucleus of the town. We saw the 
 splendid view from our horses, but next morning 
 went to search it thoroughly on foot. You look down, 
 down two hundred and fifty feet to the boiling river, 
 the sides are absolutely perpendicular rock worn with 
 age, moss-grown, ferns and cactus growing, at the 
 top, the houses built close to the cliff, — up the river 
 is seen the old Roman bridge, — down, you see, far 
 below, the Moorish mills, — and little people, don- 
 keys and things, hurrying about, the merest toys, they 
 are so far off. It is perfectly wonderful — I never 
 saw anything like it, and for once am satisfied as to 
 a gorge or chasm. They are usually so slaiiting, but 
 this is really perpendicular. From the plateau the 
 town is on, you look off of this jimiping-off place, over 
 the fertile plain to snowy mountains. 
 
 The hotel is dignified and spacious. "We had a 
 great room on the lower floor with a salon opening 
 from it, and a grated window looking into the street 
 with chairs in it on a raised dais. We only spent the 
 night there, got up early to go and look at the tajo 
 and town, and at nine, bidding farewell to Polonius 
 and our horses, mounted the top of a diligence for 
 Gohantes. We love diligence, and try to do all we 
 
190 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 can thus. There is a splendid road all the way, in- 
 deed it is the bed of a railway to connect the Granada 
 region through Ronda with Algeciras and so Cadiz. 
 We are glad we did it before it lost its flavour. But, 
 alas ! tell Nelly, how can she bear it, even at Ronda, 
 the costumes are all gone. Long trousers everywhere, 
 for men, with Yankee felt hats; plain waists and 
 skirts for the women, or little plaid ( ! ) shawls. 
 Pannelas are still worn but tied under the chin ! Is 
 it not sad ? We reached the R. R. at Gobantes at 
 two-thirty, and resumed the commonplace routine of 
 tickets, weighing trunks, tooting whistles, and smoke. 
 Reached Granada just as before, in the dark, and 
 drove up the lovely avenue, a small moon glimpsing 
 through the tall trees. 
 
 It is just as lovely here as ever, and the J.'s are 
 charmed. We were full willing to rest, as you now 
 can understand, and even to-day are doing but little. 
 In fact the charm of the Alhambra is to loiter round 
 the lovely place. We spent the p. m. there yesterday. 
 J. J. is too La Farge to be able to bear the renova- 
 tions by Contreras. In vain I suggest that the whole 
 thing would have tumbled do\\Ti if he had n't. 
 
 Our rooms are enchanting, and to me everything 
 is still more beautiful than the first time, except we 
 Hales were so wise or so lucky in being late in all 
 these places. No fresas, reluctant nightingales (but 
 some), and the blossoms not so intensely profuse up 
 here — but still enough for those who do not know 
 better. On the other hand there is more snow on the 
 Sierra Nevada — and that little garden in the Al- 
 cazaba, Nelly, is more lovely than before, with a bed 
 of double anemones instead of those geraniums I 
 painted in my foreground. 
 
 That 's the whole of our career up to this time, 
 which is Sunday 7norning. I am glad to have a little 
 room to revert to Tangier, which was very pretty and 
 
MATUNUCK, PAEIS, SPAIN 191 
 
 very amusing, not half so Eastern as the East, but 
 enough so, and — from the fact of being a little got 
 up in a stagey way for the benefit of Europeans, 
 more Eastern than the East. For instance, the mer- 
 chants in the fireplaces were richly dressed in their 
 own best haiks, as a kind of reclame of the establish- 
 ment. The " Hassans " round the hotel overdid their 
 sashes, etc., etc. We had a very amusing donkey- 
 ride out into the flowery suburbs, sitting sideways on 
 saddle-bags. At the hotel in Tangiers is a very pleas- 
 ant Scotchwoman, Mrs. Lockhart. . . . And there 
 we met for the second or third time some charming 
 English people, man and his wife, who are just 
 turned up here again, and becoming our fast friends. 
 We only lately found out their names, — they are 
 the Lieut. Henns who were over in the Galatea for 
 the yacht races ! This accounts for their niceness 
 to Americans. 
 
 Well, well, we are just laying out the last days of 
 our route. I leave Madrid on Monday, May 9, for 
 Paris, and sail on the fourteenth, less than a fort- 
 night from to-day ! I long to see you, and shall not 
 stop in New York any longer than necessary. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, July M, 1887, 
 (Alas! how fast it goes!) 
 . . . What bosh "A Week away from Time" is! 
 I should think Time, or anybody else, would keep*, 
 away from such a boring set of people. Poor old 
 Tennyson dragged in and Sir John Franklin. Have 
 you read '' Love's Martyr" by Miss Alma-Tadema? 
 My young folks have been reading it with divers 
 opinions. •• 
 
 We are in full blast here. Papa turns out reams- 
 
192 LETTERS OF SUSAIT HALE 
 
 of manuscript daily. Jack is raising worms under 
 glass, after Darwin. Robert paddles the canoe, with 
 Greta Marquand in it, a young woman of sixteen 
 I have thrown down to this cloud of youths, by which 
 I am surrounded. There is Billy and John and 
 George and Fred and Arthur and Herbert to come. 
 But no matter, while there is gosling in the larder 
 and broilers roving the hill. I have some nice ser- 
 vants, as I may have mentioned, and things go smooth. 
 Jane is stupendous. She has got on to the right side 
 of the baking powder, and her cakes and things are 
 so light they fly down your throat of themselves. We 
 keep up the form of making the bread, Robert and 
 I, but it 's only a ceremony, for Jane is really at the 
 bottom of the pan. 
 
 However, don't expect to see me at Newport, for 
 the whole thing turns upon my vigilant eye. Drop 
 a line though, now, do ! 
 
 Your faithful Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, September 12, 1887. 
 Monday morning. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — Sunday swept by without a minute 
 for writing, and eke the early mail this morning; 
 so now this will not get off till to-morrow, but I will 
 make sure of it now. My house^maid's work makes 
 me more busy than ever, especially in the first morn, 
 so I am terribly behind on letters. . . . 
 
 I will now describe yesterday that you may learn 
 that silence has not yet settled over Matunuck. Mr. 
 McElery arrived Saturday, so he was in bed for me 
 to carry water to in the morning, then the whole 
 house to open and arrange, and breakfast table to set 
 for five. ( Joe has ceased to come except sporadically 
 to fetch ice.) 
 
MATUNUCK, PAKIS, SPAIN 193 
 
 Jane fears to be seen, you know, so that every time 
 anything is missing on the table I have to get up for 
 it. We are in the red room, indeed living there, for 
 it is very windy outside. 
 
 I washed the breakfast things while Jane made the 
 beds, and this with some attention to dinner, towels, 
 blankets, etc., took every minute till time to dress 
 for church and read over the Sybarite,^ which was 
 valiantly prepared by our three Hales, with a brief 
 furnished by Mr. McElery, who is very pleasant, by 
 the way, and full of raconting his tales, all good and 
 some new. Papa was very good in tending him, but, 
 of course, he fell to me a good part of the time, and 
 what with that, setting the table and making the 
 salad, there was not a minute till dinner. The parent 
 Weedens went to lunch at the Strangs' ! so there was 
 no walk. Michael went off to get golden rods, and 
 came back so late that the tea was cold, the kitchen 
 fire out, and Jane gone. I scalded my hand trying 
 to heat some water in haste for his cup ; then saw him 
 and Papa off in the red boat, and took to my bed and 
 bag. As this had blo^vn out of window and been 
 picked up by Jane, I had great trouble in finding it 
 poked under a newspaper in the kitchen, thus had but 
 just got on the bed with Ambrose and day-bef ore's 
 Advertiser^ which Michael had jackdawed in his 
 room, — when I heard steps storming up the back- 
 stairs, it was Papa all dripping. He had tumbled 
 into the pond at Julius' landing owing to a loose 
 plank, and was wet through to the middle of his 
 watch. I came off the bed, ran down and made a 
 fire in the red room, got hot water to make him a 
 jorum of his 59 ; took away his wet clothes, and then 
 re-began to set the table for a six-o'clock tea because 
 Jane wanted to go to meeting (of all things ! the first 
 
 * A weekly paper written by the Hale family and read aloud 
 every Sunday after service. 
 
194 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 time in her life). Mr. McElery came and sate do-wn 
 at the table to read me a poem of Bret Harte's, so 
 I folded mj hands and listened to that with external 
 calm, as if I had absolutely nothing else to think of, 
 till Papa appeared in such dry clothing as he could 
 find, and we put him up to the fire to dry. Billy 
 Weeden wanted to stay to tea, so there were six, but 
 every one talkative and entertaining, and all of them 
 helped clear off the things. Jane got through and 
 away. Robby and I made bread. At eight the team 
 and Joe came to take the guests to the midnight train 
 at Kingston; and at nine Robby and I went to bed 
 after blanketing all round, for it was cold and rainy. 
 Papa seemed all right this morning, and his watch is 
 going. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SUSB. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 December ^9, 1887. 
 
 DEAE LUC, — It is working splendidly, but abso- 
 lutely no time to write about it, for Jane and I are 
 busy cooking all the time that Franklin and I are 
 not making the beds. I wish you could get a good 
 idea of it. All the Weedens joined me in Providence, 
 and before all the Hales arrived Tuesday we had the 
 dormitory all fitted up. Berty, with John Diman 
 and George Clarke, drove up the hill with Joe Brown- 
 ing, and an hour later Greta with Edward (who had 
 waited at Kingston for her). There was a great 
 hubbub and a slight lunch, and then all swarmed off 
 to search for skating. . . . 
 
 I went out to find them about three, this was Tues- 
 day, and anything more lovely I can't imagine. It 
 snowed here all Monday night, but cleared off during 
 
MATUNUCK, PAEIS, SPAIN 195 
 
 the morning. The whole country was exquisite with 
 a soft, iridescent sort of sky, and round, hazy sun 
 going down. Patches of white snow in amongst the 
 oak-trees, and yellow grass. The Salt-pond (that you 
 see from the piazza) had those houses sharp reflected, 
 as often in summer, but now in ice of an opaline 
 greenish tint. Up at the end of the little pond I 
 found them all skating round, or clearing oif the 
 snow, or building a great fire, though it was warm 
 like summer. They all were picturesque in fur caps, 
 short trousers, good legs, — the girls in bright colours, 
 with furs, — and elated, with glowing cheeks — I 
 left them to come home and set the table, and the 
 scene outdoors was perfectly delicious. We dine at 
 four-thirty — Jane prefers it! says it saves her 
 trouble, and of course it does. The dining-room looks 
 sweet with fire, swinging-lamp, screen, set for nine 
 (our number). That night we had roast turkey, 
 Marlboro pie, cranberry, cauliflower, nuts and raisins, 
 all very jolly, — and passed the evening prattling, 
 with the banjo, — and forming great plans for spend- 
 ing all the next day on the ice. 
 
 The wind went round in the night, and in the 
 morning it was a pouring S. E. storm, raining so 
 hard that everyone who ventured out got wet through ! 
 This was a strain on the resources of the house, but 
 the day passed merrily — and in the evening the boys 
 had a " Minstrel," performances with songs written 
 during the day, and a dance by Edward. 
 
 To reward them this morning it is clear again, and 
 new ice made, and they are all up at " Venus's Mir- 
 ror " skating again. 
 
 The men all sleep in the parlour with a roaring 
 fire, and four beds crammed as close as they can be, 
 and piled with blankets, washbowls on the window- 
 seats, and looking-glasses hung on pegs, — and up- 
 stairs Greta and Leila in your room, me in Papa's. 
 
196 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Old Franklin, all clay long, goes from one fire to 
 another (five in the house), piling on wood. Time 
 for mail-man. 
 
 Yk. Suse. 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Providence, April 12, 1888. 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE, — ... I had a splendid time in 
 New York. People thought well of me! I had 
 lunches and dinners, eke flowers were sent to me. 
 The only objection was that the pace nearly killed 
 me, and I wish now to do nothing but sleep. I 
 stopped over for a few days with the friendly 
 Weedens here, to talk over the coming campaign at 
 Matunuck, but to-morrow I fly to the arms of Jane, 
 and long to be there, and to see the spring a bustin'. 
 I was so afraid it would or had busted before I ar- 
 rived, and looked anxiously from the car window lest 
 early golden rod should be appearing at the wayside. 
 By luck it hasn't quite begun, and patches of snow 
 still occupy the hollows. 
 
 I am much pleased with New York. There is less 
 gossip and more social life than in little Boston. 
 Your neighbours may be worse, but there is less said 
 about them. I really do think the interests of people's 
 lives are broader, certainly more varied. . . . 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, Odoher 1 , 1888. 
 {Raining as usiml.) 
 DEAR LUC, — . . . Well, now, I will give some 
 account of myself since the Weedens' departure, only 
 I have elsewhere depicted that period, in letters you 
 may have seen. 
 
MATUNUCK, PARIS, SPAIIT 197 
 
 On Wednesday, my dear, with great anguish I put 
 Clementina in the basket which contained all summer 
 the Globe-earned worsteds. She was so sweet ; seemed 
 to foresee her fate, ate a careful breakfast, and let 
 me put her in, although all tremblings, without a 
 struggle, wasn't it odd! The string was tangled in 
 her hind leg. She rose to adjust it, then settled her- 
 self on " sucking-blankets " placed at the bottom of 
 the basket. I carried basket down to Weedens', 
 speaking words of cheer on the way, and handed it 
 over to N'elly, the second girl. I learn that Clemen- 
 tina did n't stir or struggle all the way to Providence. 
 ]!!^elly Balch met them at the station, and took Tina 
 in horse-cars to her new house ; where !N^elly Balch 
 wrote she was sleeping " comfort abil s " on a couch, 
 not disturbed in mind by the journey. This is all 
 a great comfort, and an immense relief to have her 
 gone, though I miss her ; but not to have to consider 
 open or shut doors, cold, the chicken bones, is a won- 
 derful relaxation, and as I can think of her happy 
 and contented, and laugh with Jander about her at- 
 tractive little customs, it's much better than having 
 her here. I*^evertlieless, as soon as the Weedens 
 were gone, I took to my bed, and stayed there all day, 
 and all night, without budging, or doing anything but 
 doze. I had quite a headache for basis of such ac- 
 tion, but was more worn out in mind; in fact, it 
 seemed a fit occasion to give up. Lizzie was sick and 
 in bed, unable to cook a dinner; there was nothing 
 in the house to eat, and no one to eat it. The Post- 
 office was gone, all the letters were lost, therefore 
 none to answer, and no way to get them anywhere, 
 newspapers, ditto. I had no money, and no means 
 of spending any. My clothes were all torn to pieces, 
 and a large hole in my only shoe. The Weedens were 
 all gone, Clementina was gone, Joe Browning was 
 gone with the Weedens. The Albert Sebastians were 
 
198 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 all drunk. The Bro^vllings had killed their large pig. 
 " Uncle George " was mad because the P. O. was 
 shut, and did n't come for the swill because there was 
 no Prov. Jowmal for him to read, besides there was n't 
 any swill. N^ow don't you think all the requisites 
 for giving up were here ? I gave up. Nor must I 
 forget to add that it was cold, very cold, and raining, 
 of course ; and all the wood was so wet that none of 
 it would burn, so there was no fire. . . . 
 
 Bed was warm and delicious. I wasn't in a low 
 state of nerves, you know, nor crying, only calmly, 
 cheerfully, discouraged. Understand my night gown 
 on, and clothes all off as for the night, blinds shut, 
 a pleasing dark pervading the room. There was an 
 interlude at noon during which I rose and prepared 
 a delicious tomato soup out of chicken bone, put it 
 in two bowls on two trays with two slices of dry 
 toast, carried one to Lizzie's bedside and adminis- 
 tered it her; brought the other to my own bedside, 
 got into bed, and ate my own, put the bowl aside, 
 and much refreshed turned myself to the wall. 
 
 All was absolute silence about the house, and miles 
 about the country — . Suddenly, a trampling in the 
 entry ! I rose, and over the bannisters parleyed with 
 — Mr. Matlack, come to board for a week! . . . 
 
 I hawked him out of the house with a round turn 
 and down to Cashman's and silence fell again on the 
 house. By and by it was dark (a wet evening), and 
 then the long night ; I had a lovely rest. 
 
 And rose, at the usual hour on Thursday, a giant 
 refreshed. Tapped at Lizzie's door. " Lizzie, do 
 you feel like getting breakfast ? " " Yes'm ! " said 
 a hungry voice. So we began life again cheerily. 
 The mail-man came with letters from every^vhere. 
 The sun came out, and I dined on the porch off 
 stewed duck, very delicious, with a wonderful pud- 
 ding Lizzie has discovered. Took a great walk in 
 
MATITKUCK, PAEIS, SPAIN 199 
 
 the afternoon, and felt very happy, relieved from the 
 burden of humanity and cats. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island. Tuesday, 
 Octoher 16, 1888.' 
 
 DEAR Lrc, — . . . All seems rounding Avell in, 
 now, and I am impatient to be off, although the 
 weather is lovely here. Saw a beautiful sunrise from 
 my bed this morning, having left the window open 
 for it, — and just two minutes after it was up, the 
 sun I mean, my clock struck six. The almanac says 
 sunrise was to be at five fifty-eight. It 's a relief to 
 have the orb so punctual. At "once, Lizzie came out 
 at your door, soon the whir of the egg-beater was 
 heard, and at quarter of seven, the grind of the 
 coffee-mill, as I sate chattering in my bath. Pond 
 perfectly exquisite at that window. At seven sharp 
 I seated myself on the porch to a succulent breakfast. 
 
 Since then, alas ! clouds and chill, and I have re- 
 tired to the red room and a fire. But I can't be writ- 
 ing you more. Only you may see how well done up 
 my affairs are to allow this dawdling. I read, read, 
 read these old novels at every moment. Let 's see : 
 
 All to be riveted in my head to stay till ISTovember ! 
 
 Sir Charles 3,500 pages 
 
 TJdolpho 1,700 pages 
 
 Cecilia 975 pages 
 
 Thaddeus 571|^ . , 
 
 Children of the Abbey . . . . 628)^°^?"^^ 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
CHAPTER YII 
 
 Beadings in Chicago, Washington and New York — 
 Trip on yacht " Gitana " with Mr. and Mrs. 
 William F. Weld — Summer at Matunuck — 
 Another winter of lectures and readings, 1890, 
 
 (1888-1890) 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Chicago, Monday, November 5, 1888. 
 
 DEAE LUC, — ... The election is making a 
 hurrali-boys, and on Saturday there were but few at 
 Mr. Jones's Church, on account of two rival proces- 
 sions which encumbered the streets and almost pre- 
 vented our getting there in the cable-car, which might 
 be called remark-cable car, it is so fearsome. 
 
 When I get to Churches' I will try to write my 
 events, can't now remember where I left off! 
 " TJdolpho " Thursday at Mrs. Babcock's was the first 
 great success as a reading, the folks had then found 
 out they were to laugh ; and it went off quite easily ; 
 same here the next evening, for Mrs. D. had me re- 
 peat it instead of Cecilia. There were lots of jolly 
 people here, and every one enjoyed it. 
 
 Saturday Mrs. Glessner gave me a stunning lunch, 
 of twelve ladies, all important. I sate between the 
 hostess and Mrs. Potter Palmer, a north-side mag- 
 nate of great importance, a very pretty little young 
 woman married to an ancient millionaire. We had 
 two butlers, and great display of table splendour, all 
 in good taste and as absolutely in the latest style as 
 
CHICAGO, WASHK^GTON, NEW YORK 201 
 
 possible. I like Mrs. Glessner much. She had on 
 a tea-gown of flowered yellow silk trimmed with rich 
 lace, and made smock fashion. The ice was in real 
 calla lilies, resting each on its own leaf in the plate. 
 The house is very handsome, built round its own 
 patio, from w^hich comes all the light, the windows 
 on the street being mere slits. 
 
 Last night we tea-d (dinner Sundays middle of day 
 here) at Baldwins', who love Papa Edward since 
 they saw him at Orange, 'New Jersey, years ago. 
 Very jolly people, we had a great deal of lively, easy 
 talk. Their house abuts the lake, with only a great 
 high pillar between, which contains on its top Fred 
 Douglass, preparing to dive into the lake. The lake 
 is perfectly enchanting, the saving of the place 
 for natural charm. In the morning we went for 
 virtue's sake to the Unitarian Church, formerly 
 Brooke Ilerford's, and heard an unutterably dull 
 sermon. Mrs. D. prefers Salter, who does Ethical 
 Morality, and married a Gibbens, sister to Mrs. 
 Willy James. 
 
 Dr. Dudley is delightful, I take great pleasure in 
 making him smile. He is full of good stories, which 
 I will try to remember. 
 
 Altogether 'tis very strange and amusing, some- 
 what fatiguing, to have to cram a novel each day, and 
 read it each night, but the task is waning, only three 
 more. Oh, I expressed on Saturday, to Belle Wil- 
 son, all the books I have done with, for her to return 
 to B. Library; and eke with them, to get it off my 
 mind, my o"wn " Sir Charles Grandison," which she 
 may keep till December. 
 
 We are all goose-flesh about the election ; Dr. Dud- 
 ley is Republican, and almost every one I see is; 
 calling Cleveland a beast and a brute, so 'tis a very 
 agreeable political atmosphere. If the Reps, win, 
 and Chicago is sure they will, 'twill be terrible fac- 
 
202 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 iiig the mugwump Churches and Democrat Osborns. 
 Hark, the door-bell ? No — but 't is time, so farewell. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 1820 N" Street, Washington, Tuesday, 
 January 8, 1889. 
 
 Oh, my dear, I must now again take up the labour- 
 ing pen, though I am most dead ; I guess writing to 
 3"ou will rest me more than casting myself on the 
 bed. Last night was the " Elixir," a great success, 
 after a tumultuous day. We were not home till 
 twelve, so I feel like a rag to-day — but cough, let 
 me hasten to say, much better, and voice malleable, 
 without black-in-the-faceness. . . . 
 
 I dressed for 75, and Hutchinson, English maid, 
 and I repaired in a herdic (which we sent back) to 
 the Berrys'. Mrs. Van Rennselaer Berry is sister 
 to Mrs. Nat. Thayer. The house is very handsome, 
 and all lighted with candles. Not very good for the 
 purpose, being long, old-fashioned drawing-rooms 
 (like Uncle Edward's in Summer Street), but I had 
 a small platform, and it did well enough. Arthur 
 was there, M. Hurtado, a little French attache, came 
 to get his orders (in French) for playing the entre- 
 actes. He did nicely. Hutchinson was perfect, in 
 dressing me, and it went without a hitch; lights, 
 rouge, powder, clothes, very becoming, I guess, and 
 all satisfactory. Do tell Miss Bolger that the blue 
 dress came out stumiing, and that hack looked young 
 if nothing else did. Obedient to Hutchinson, I re- 
 sumed that to appear in company, only fancy! with 
 the feather pompon atop of me ! 
 
 There were swarms of real friendly souls there, so 
 that I was quite at ease and surrounded, and plenty 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 203 
 
 new ones introduced. Alexander Bliss, Cabot Lodge, 
 Langlej again, young Dodge, and Rebecca, sons of 
 Leila Gilman, that Bristed girl I used to teach, now 
 married to Griffiths or Griffin^ Emily Tuckerman, 
 her mother, — the whole Bailey Loring tribe, him- 
 self, Madame, and Sallie; — it's so long since I've 
 been at a party, it tired me bellowing at them all; 
 Kitty Everett ; her yoimg son, Leo ; Cousin Hopkins, 
 abandoned by all his females ; Mr. Graham Bell, and 
 
 Mrs. (who understood every word of the 
 
 "Elixir"); Mr. Eugene Hale, very demonstrative 
 in his praise of it; sweet Miss Clymer, I knew here 
 before, and her mother; my feeble mind refuses to 
 recall more — all very complimentary, and all ap- 
 parently coming to my reading this p. m. 
 
 'T is a pity ; they have so oversold the tickets that 
 we have moved the readings into the Sunday-school 
 room of the Unitarian Church. Many deprecate 
 this, and none more than I, but they seem to think 
 it can't be helped. Anyhow it's their own doings; 
 but it's harder for me to be colloquial from a great 
 platform, reading desk, and so on, than in a pretty 
 parlour; a little more platform last night, and less 
 to-day would be more to the purpose. . . . Hastily 
 closing, 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 1820 N Street, Washington, Friday, 
 January 11, 1889. 
 DEAR LUC, — I will now attack another big letter 
 to you, for there seems signs of delightful calm. 
 Mrs. Hobsen, wisely, plans nothing for our morn- 
 ings — unless I have calls from specialists, so to 
 speak, I have the whole morning in my room drop- 
 
204 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 ping down on her in hers occasionally, to exchange 
 confer generally on the outlook, 
 
 I have my second reading this p. m., so seclusion 
 
 I have my second reading this p. m., so seclusion 
 is especially well, to cram, my "Female Quixote," and 
 rest my voice, which by the way is almost in its 
 normal; my nose-cold still hangs on to the great 
 detriment of h'd'k'f 's, but that 's, of course, a minor 
 evil. 
 
 But to the charge. I wrote Anne B. somewhat 
 about the first reading. It now seems seons ago. It 
 is terrible having it taken out of parlours and put 
 into a horrible Unitarian Sunday-school, but it went 
 off much better than I hoped, and now I have ceased 
 worrying about it, for it really makes much more 
 money. They took seventy-seven dollars at the door, 
 over and above the hundred or more season tickets 
 they had worked off beforehand ; and more are ex- 
 pected at every reading, as it is town-talk. Mrs. 
 McGuire, whose mother, old Mrs. Taylor, is one of 
 the earliest inhabitants and a mighty Unitarian, 
 offers me her cab to drive to every reading. Mrs. 
 Stone (president of the charity) sent me flowers, 
 which furnished my front. I had on my black silk, 
 and black French bonnet with flowers in it. When 
 we reached the place, I was jDut in a little side 
 "study," and here came in to me the Rev. Rush 
 Shippen to minister to me. He was to introduce me 
 (and did it very well, by the way). All my hand- 
 maidens had left me and I was alone with him, when 
 an infernal button at the back of my neck, which 
 holds the plastron of my shut-up waist, came undone 
 — no looking-glass or anything, my gloves all on. 
 
 "Mr. Shippen," said I, in despair, "can you do 
 a button ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know," said the man, in a ma^e ; 
 he looked at it utterly helpless. "Ah — I — I — 
 
CHICAGO, WASHIIsTGTON, NEW YOKK 205 
 
 will call one of the ladies," said he ; we looked out at 
 the door into the passageway. Luckily a swarm of 
 women I knew were there. I summoned them in and 
 amongst them they fixed me, in great merriment, — 
 Emily Tuckerman, Harriet Bancroft, Grace Kuhn; 
 and the latter (so nicely) said, "You look charm- 
 ingly. Miss Hale, your dress is just right." Was n't 
 this kind of her? — a Boston woman too! Harriet 
 was also very nice; they passed off to the hall, but 
 she came flying back in a minute, saying, " Susan ! 
 you don't want to stand up, in a pulpit!!'' 
 " Heavens, no ! " She flew off again, hailed Ship- 
 pen to the task, they moved the pulpit, got a great 
 chair from the church, got a small table, glass of 
 water, etc. (All so shiftless this not done before- 
 hand ! ) I now advanced through a crowd of seateds 
 on each side a narrow aisle, and ascended the plat- 
 form. It was appalling, so ugly, and the chair was 
 a high-backed, slippery horse-hair sort of throne, my 
 feet hung down in full view of my audience, which 
 stretched back into dim depths of distance. My heart 
 sank, but I took it in both hands, and began to talk 
 about Sir Charles in the airiest colloquial way, as 
 if I were perfectly happy and at my ease — had to 
 bellow to fill the place, and 'tis hard to bellow col- 
 loquially. The effect was magic, a broad smile broke 
 out on every countenance, and after that every one 
 was just as charming as possible, and I really en- 
 joyed their sympathy with all I said and read. Was 
 not that nice ? Kept seeing lots of friendly faces, 
 all looking real pleased, as if they thought it was 
 going well. It lasted two good hours, and no one 
 rustled or moved or got up to go. Chief trouble is 
 that I have to speak much slower than in a small 
 room, so had to omit lots I had marked to read, and, 
 in fact, wound the dear characters up with a round 
 turn, scarce dwelling on the courtship, punctilio, and 
 
20(J LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 wedding. But all seemed delighted, and swarmed 
 about me after it was over to compliment. I can't 
 say too much of the niceness of Emily Tuckerman, 
 Harriet, Susie Loring, and a dozen others, who sate 
 literally at my feet and sort of egged me on by their, 
 what you might call, tender applause. It was a fine 
 representation they say of old residents, and solid 
 worth. Mrs. Cleveland was not there, but old Mrs. 
 Folsom was, they say. I move, you know, chiefly in 
 Republican circles, yet not to the exclusion of Gov- 
 ernment people. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 1820 N Street, Washington, D. C, 
 Tuesday, January 15, 1889. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — ... At three, Mrs. Secretary Eair- 
 child came for B. and me, and we were admitted to 
 the White House by private entrance, that curved 
 perron at the back, by the way, the monument being 
 done like Bunker Hill and Cleopatra's needle and all 
 other obelisks on top of each other ; the view there is 
 the finest in the world. 
 
 We knew by the swell of human beings that the 
 reception had begun, indeed the outside was black 
 with masses of well-dressed people. We joined the 
 file and entered the Blue Room, where Mrs. Cleve- 
 land stood in the doorway, and along next her a row 
 of richly dressed young dames. Our names were given, 
 we shook hands and were yanked along this line, and 
 then let in behind, to stay in the rest of the room 
 while the presentations went forward. The receiv- 
 ing line were fenced out, as it were, by backs of sofas, 
 which left the Blue Room open for the favoured one 
 hundred or eighty, like us, while the crowd were 
 passed along into the East Room, and so out. More 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 207 
 
 than a thousand thus passed. Meanwhile, it was a 
 party, where we were, of pleasing people, all unheed- 
 ing the stream; except we could go and watch Mrs. 
 Cleveland at it. She is really very distinguished 
 looking. Had on a white party gown, with fluffy 
 white feather trimming about her stately throat, but 
 all open and low necked. She rested her left arm 
 on the sofa-back, holding in that hand a white ostrich 
 feather fan, and hauled the people past her as if she 
 were landing a whale. Miss Ellen Bayard was 
 amongst the receiving young ladies. She that was 
 with Fiskes. In behind were Mrs. Hoar, Mrs. 
 Dawes, and Anna Dawes; Mrs. Commodore Har- 
 mony, Miss Leiter (perhaps the belle of Washing- 
 ton) lots I knew and didn't know. It was kept up 
 till five. My dear — Mrs. Dr. Mary Walker was in 
 the crowd. Horrid-looking little thing. Towards the 
 end the great man Cleveland came in, and we were 
 introduced to him. 
 
 As for the President, I was amazed to see him so 
 far from disting-uished looking, for have n't the mug- 
 wumps proclaimed him as the glass of fashion, etc. ? 
 Mrs. C. undoubtedly is distinguished. She is taller 
 than her spouse. Well ; we pretended to go ; taking 
 leave of our Royal Hostess, but she begged us to stay 
 to tea ; so by and by we were led through the retiring 
 throng, a passage made for us, to the grand stairway ; 
 and up two flights, as it were, in the back-entry be- 
 tween bedrooms, tea was set out at two tables, Mrs. 
 Cleveland at one, and my friend Ellen Bayard at the 
 other. I dropped naturally into a seat by the latter, 
 and helped her prattle with her men, one of whom 
 was Captain Duvall, who had been bellowing the 
 names to Mrs. President all the p. m. Also Burnett 
 was there. 
 
 Thirty or forty people (intimes like myself) thus 
 remained. Of course this was the influence of Mrs. 
 
208 LETTERS OF SUSA^ HALE 
 
 Eairchild. We came away and down tlie steps in 
 the loveliest of moonlight, the sweet peaceful scene 
 stretching off to the river, a contrast to the fevered 
 crowd within. But it is a splendid Republican sight, 
 all those well-dressed, well-behaved people filing 
 through the White House to do homage to their chief 
 magistrates. . . . 
 
 That evening, Sunday, a family dinner at the 
 G. B. Lorings', perhaps the pleasantest thing yet : — 
 only eight, thus: Mr. Loring, me next, then Senator 
 Hoar, Mrs. Loring; opposite the host came Mr. 
 Blaine, Sally Loring on his right, next General Ber- 
 dan, then Mrs. Hoar (Ruth, so friendly and .home- 
 like). All these men very talkative and nice, and 
 after dinner we all sate in a group and heard them 
 tell stories. I am quite in love with Blaine, he is 
 so drooped and white, and unsuccessful. As I looked 
 at him, I kept thinking how it would have seemed 
 to plunge the dagger into him a la Corday, as I in- 
 tended, you know, if he had not declined the nomina- 
 tion. He is fairly worshipped here as a god in his 
 circle. In Washington you might say the Republican 
 party is Blaine ; they are so short-sighted ; their only 
 idea is who will look well in the White House. They 
 are all worrying lest Mrs. Harrison should prove not 
 femme du monde. . . . But Blaine, I am convinced, 
 will do no more harm, so I can afford to admire and 
 pity him. He was certainly most agreeable. 
 
 Monday, was a great lunch for me chez , im- 
 mensely rich people. They Have a chef, and tlie cor- 
 poreal lunch was stunning. Little moulds of pate 
 de fois were made with suitable designs, and the 
 chef wept he was not informed early enough that I 
 was literary, because he would have made an open 
 book for my one, with printed page of truffle. As it 
 was I had the anchor of hope. A great bed of fat 
 red roses nearly covered the table. Ten fat stupid 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YOKK 209 
 
 women were the guests, tliey all carried on before me 
 as if I was Shakespeare; a little brains goes a long 
 way here. I never encountered anything like it. 
 "My dear Miss Hale, you! such accomplishments! 
 You really read and spell ! " Gorged with truffles 
 and flattery I fled home. . . . 
 
 Then the round of K Street receptions. I like 
 this business greatly, which may amaze you ; at each 
 house the same people, in fact, all Washington tail- 
 ing* round after each other like that picture in "-Gam- 
 mer Grethel" of the boy with the goose. I always 
 see someone who leaps on me, and Mrs. Hobsen is 
 delighted with me, because I am never on her hands 
 for a moment. Quiet evening, early bed; to-day a 
 field-day, which I leave to my next. 
 
 Yours always, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 32 Park Avenue, New Yoek, 
 January ^3, 1889. 
 DEAK LUC, — . . . Now to retum : I think I 
 wrote you last Wednesday morning, before the great 
 Warder luncheon, hope I don't repeat. The Warder 
 house is a great house by Richardson, in the donjon- 
 keep style, and therefore appropriate to Warder, ho ! 
 It is very like the Glessner house in Chicago, where 
 I had a gorgeous lunch, so you may call it odd, or 
 just the reverse, to have it prove that Glessner is the 
 junior partner of Warder, and that the money that 
 built and runs both houses was made by the reaping- 
 machine that "knocked spots out of McCormick." 
 Only in Chicago we frankly called it a " a Reaper," 
 as if we knew exactly what that meant, while in 
 Washing-ton Ave say "some — a — form of agricul- 
 tural implenlent," with an ignorant air, as if such 
 
210 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 knowledge were beneath us. Leaving these fine dis- 
 tinctions; the Warders gave me this lunch in their 
 keep, which is more gorgeous even than the Glessner 
 one. . . . 
 
 We went at one. The dining-room was darkened, 
 and lighted by artificial means, viz. : cut-glass cande- 
 labra on the table some four feet high, with banks of 
 candles, all in little shades. There was some gas 
 above, but very dim, the vasty ceilings all imillumi- 
 nated. Between the dining-room and the picture- 
 gallery is only an arcade of red marble columns and 
 through this vista, the large pictures (not remarkably 
 good, but well enough), were to be seen lighted from 
 concealed gas jets above them. The table fairly 
 sparkled with, jewelled glass from Carlsbad. The 
 table-cloth would have amazed Mrs. " Butter " 
 Browning of Matunuck, for it had a broad stripe of 
 embroidery in white satin running the length of it. 
 There were men at this limch, a mitigating feature 
 invented by the Warders. Mr. Warder took me, and 
 we sat as king and queen at the end of the long, wide 
 table — fourteen guests. On my other hand was 
 Admiral Rodgers, a handsome, charming man of 
 sixty-five, or thereabouts. Well, we began, and ate 
 and ate, and ate and ate. Mrs. Hobsen and I used to 
 know what the courses were and how they came, but 
 it 's gone from me now, — anyhow there was terrapin 
 and saddle of venison, and pheasant, and little scal- 
 loped things in saucepans with silver handles, and 
 others in shells without handles, and shad and cucum- 
 bers and asparagus, and things in season and out of 
 season, and pain and champagne, and claret and 
 sherry, and Apollinaris, and real water, and all out 
 of beakers that sparkled and shone internally and 
 externally. 
 
 We sparkled and shone all that was possible under 
 these circimistances, faint yet pursuing as each new 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTO^T, NEW YORK 211 
 
 thing came on, — and rose from table a little before 
 four. Then we moved into the picture-gallery for 
 coffee, and into the drawing-room for tea, and the 
 great, huge bank from the middle of the table of 
 Jacqueminot and white roses stuck with hyacinths, 
 was passed round for us each to take a great bunch 
 to carry away. Then the shutters were taken down, 
 and the guests carried off on them ; this is figurative, 
 to say we went out into the daylight, and made a few 
 K Street calls. Luckily we had no dinner engage- 
 ment, and were so dead we didn't dream of going 
 to the Bancroft Davis reception. 
 
 Friday was our great field-day. At one Mrs. Hob- 
 sen and I were at Admiral Steedman's, next door, 
 by the way, to the Woodhull's. You know dear old 
 Mrs. Steedman (now nigh eighty), was one of my 
 first ladies to listen to Forgotten ]!^ovels, ten years 
 ago; and before that, I once did her brain club for 
 her. She has always been most kind and affectionate, 
 goes out now never, but gave me this breakfast. All 
 Washington warned me to prepare for this, as her 
 cooking is the most delicious of wonderful things. 
 She is of Philadelphia origin. And wonderful it 
 was. The dear old lady at one end, Rosa at the other 
 (her only unmarried daughter). Admiral not visible 
 (but he called on me one day previously), then six 
 really bright, agreeable women, next me Mrs. Bacon, 
 who was Kate Stoughton, husband in the navy, great 
 friend of Charlotte Wise, but younger. She professes 
 to have taken a passion for me, and has missed not 
 a chance of seeing me, sent me delicious violets for 
 my last reading. On the other side Mrs. Wood, they 
 all like, handsome woman, western husband, lots of 
 money, they live in Mr. Corcoran's very handsome 
 house. Opposite, Miss Tumbull, great favourite, 
 lived always in Washington; Miss Grey (Bessie, sis- 
 ter of Judge Horace Grey of Boston), and Mrs. 
 
212 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Hobsen. That was all; such things to eat, all were 
 delicious; for instance, " pone/^ in a kind of pud- 
 ding to eat with sausage ! waffles, brought in hot, and 
 hot, with preserved cherries and juice, fried chicken, 
 all creamed and brown, not to speak of bouillon, 
 oysters, and the usual things thrown in. (The bouil- 
 lon at the Warders', by the the way, was served in 
 Sevres cups lined with gold, crimson outside with 
 medallions containing shepherdesses.) This Steed- 
 m.an affair was very sweet and genial, because we 
 were all bent on making her perceive it a success. 
 The last thing was home-made cherry bounce in 
 which we drank her daughter's birthday health. We 
 came away from there gorged, to plunge into our own 
 Friday reception, and stood receiving all afternoon. 
 Swarms of people, partly for me, and partly for Mrs. 
 Vice-President-elect Morton, who was there, having 
 come to W. for a few days to engage herself a house, 
 etc., etc. Pleasant gi'eetings I had with John Hay, 
 who has been to every reading (so has Harriet Lane, 
 Mrs. Johnson), William Walter Phelps, Mrs. Iron- 
 side, Kasson, oh, hundreds of intimate friends, dear 
 Admiral Warder, etc., etc. They stayed till it was 
 time to dress for the Edmunds dinner. I wore my 
 black lace with the cardinal which looks very pretty. 
 It ought to be long, as should all my clothes for that 
 milieu. Charming dinner, only we were tired and 
 not hungry. I sate between Kasson and Langley 
 (the diners-out par excellence of W.) ; Judge and 
 Mrs. Blatchford were there. Dr. Leonard and Madam 
 (rector of St. John's, the fashionable church), Mr. 
 Pellew. ... I was near enough my dear Senator 
 Edmunds to hear and speak with him occasionally, 
 alas! this is all I have seen of him; but Mrs. Ed- 
 munds and the daughter, Mary, are lovely to me, 
 loudly lamenting I sketch no more in water-colours. 
 We left at ten-thirty, and might have gone on to 
 
CHICAGO, WASHIXGTO:Nt, new YOKK 213 
 
 Mrs. Secretary Whitney's jam, but flesh, and blood 
 resisted, and we went home to bed. 
 
 On Saturday my last reading, very pleasant, for 
 every one crowded round to say farewell, and praise, 
 and wish they could go on forever. It was " Chil- 
 dren of the Abbey," and they roared at the fun. I 
 wore my \dolets from Mrs. Bacon, black gown, black 
 lace bonnet. My feet in good boots are much seen 
 and admired, on the heisty platform they give 
 me. . . . 
 
 Always Mrs. McGuire's cab, for the reading, you 
 know. In it at the close Susie Loring and I flew to 
 Mrs. Whitney's musicale, and were just in time. For 
 the reason you had no rehearsal, my dear, was that 
 your orchestra had a concert Friday night in Wash- 
 ing-ton, and the next p. m., Adamowski and his 
 stringed quartet were bid to play by the far-scheming 
 Mrs. Whitney. It was a charming occasion. Her 
 lovely celebrated salon where Sherwood read, and 
 where I should have, if they hadn't moved me into 
 the vestry, one of the most perfect of rooms. Several 
 hundred people, but scattered about on crimson divans 
 with masses of roses over them, on comfortable chairs. 
 The music on a dais in an alcove. Everybody 
 (straight from my reading) in their best street cos- 
 tumes. I knew the most of them (more than I 
 should in proportion in a Boston drawing-room), 
 all saying pleasant things. Mrs. Whitney very effu- 
 sive. Adamowski played a ravir and they were all 
 carried away with him, and wanted to learn from me 
 his previous career. I felt very light-hearted, be- 
 cause out of the woods and no slip about the readings 
 (two hundred and fifty dollars safe in my pocket, 
 and I guess about five hundred dollars for the char- 
 ity), so I could enjoy my homage at my ease. We 
 slipped off without stopping for tea. . . . 
 
 At seven-thirty, a charming, cosy dinner at Mr. 
 
214 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Sam Ward's, sitting between him and young Ward 
 Thoron, a charming fellow, just from Harvard. 
 Langley there, of course, and Lowndes, the hero of 
 that novel, " Democracy." After dinner some thirty 
 people came in. The S^^ass Minister who talks agree- 
 ably in French; Cabot Lodge; Mrs. Barlow (nee 
 Shaw) wife of General, — Mr. Fairchild, etc. — all 
 very well with me — especially Mr. Ward^ who talked 
 of Fullum and the Friday Night Club. Home in a 
 vile slush, hard to get to our herdic, and up our own 
 steps. 
 
 Now for Monday, last day. At eleven in the morn- 
 ing, old Madam Stone (comer-stone of W. I call her, 
 you know), fetched me to the Louise Home, insti- 
 tuted by Mr. Corcoran for decayed gentlewomen, to 
 read to them ! It was such a time, old birds swarm- 
 ing round me, delighted with the ball scene in " Chil- 
 dren of the Abbey," and in the midst a great bouquet 
 of flowers for me from Mrs. Cleveland, with a card 
 in her own handwriting, great was the glory and the 
 praise. Old ladies nearly wild; they hung on my 
 neck at parting, and are ever since quarrelling over 
 one copy of the " Children of the Abbey." Mrs. 
 Stone is so much enchanted with me for this act, that 
 she can scarce keep within bounds. . . . 
 
 Saturday we had delicious " Siegfried" at the opera, 
 the most charming fairy-tale, scenery, plot, orchestra, 
 singing, all enchanting. If you remember, I left 
 Brunhilde last year asleep on a mountain surrounded 
 by flames, and Siegfried just about to be bom. He 
 was now grown up, welding a sword for himself with 
 which we saw him slay a great dragon, named Fafner, 
 then found Brunhilde, waked her up, and married 
 her, she still the right age for such purposes, being 
 a Walkiire. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SuSE. 
 
CHICAGO, WASHIiS^GTON, NEW YORK 215 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 "Alhambea," Granada, March 18, 1889. 
 . . . Thursday evening was our really last dinner 
 at moorings, with Elliot Lee and Dr. Goddard. . . . 
 And on Friday we were really off. I was all ex- 
 citement and on deck at seven-thirty (I can always 
 have coffee when I get up) to see the sails stretched 
 and all; but there was lots of delay waiting for a 
 new steward, who said he would come and didn't, 
 and lots of sending boats ashore, which I guess al- 
 ways happens, so that it was eleven or so before we 
 glided round the lighthouse and off into the Mediter- 
 ranean. This was one of the most deligJitful mo- 
 ments of my life ! and all that p. m. sailing as fast 
 as a steamer; the companions lying on deck, all of 
 us, with cushions and rugs, no noises, no smells, no 
 thumping as in steamers, — a glorious sunset grad- 
 ually coming on as we left the old rock behind, and 
 coasted along the lovely mountains towards Malaga. 
 The moon was up when we came near the lights of 
 that town, to anchor in the bay. Oh ! it is perfectly 
 delicious, this sailing part. . . . 
 
 Yrs., 
 S. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 Yacht " Gitana," Malaga, March W, 1889, 
 I believe, hut don'i ask me the day of the week. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE, — I will wTite you a brief 
 note before breakfast, partly to say that Malaga raisins 
 are very good raisins, and to add that I am having 
 the most heavenly time on this sweet yacht. Besides 
 we have just come down from the Alhambra and 
 your favourite spot, the Villa de los Moros, is all 
 there. Just imagine how it was to really see the 
 
216 LETTERS OF SUSAN" HALE 
 
 whole thing again, — drive up under the archway 
 from the town, after dark, but in superb moonlight, 
 up and up among the elm trees, ISTelly and Anita all 
 amaze, for you never can make any body believe be- 
 forehand how its going to be (and so much the 
 better), then rattling up with a whoop of mules and 
 wheels to the Siete Suelos, where mine host comes 
 bowing out, and observient waiters stand round, and 
 lead us to rooms all ready with cliimeneas, which is 
 Moorish for fire in the chimney, and the dear old 
 lady, who has been chambermaid ever since Isabella 
 took the keys from El Re Chico, with her head tied 
 up in a pannelo and a shawl crossed over her bosom, 
 runs for hot water. We were all so enraptured that 
 we went out and strolled about, up to the gates of the 
 G'fe, and were only restrained by the absence of a 
 permit, from rushing that night into the palace. It 
 was rather cold, and we needed wraps, for Sierra 
 Nevada is sheeted wdth snow, but the sun streamed 
 in on us in the morning. 
 
 Everybody was delighted; and, oh! my dear, we 
 are a very nice congenial party. There isn't a black 
 sheep amongst us, nor one in wolf's clothing. Willy 
 is a dear, so very gloomy in speech, so sunny in fact. 
 " Well ! " he says invariably, " now all our troubles 
 are going to begin ! " Whereas we have no troubles 
 whatever, for all runs smoothly always. ISTelly is 
 lovely. . . . Alhambra or JSTo-hambra, B. Mercer is 
 not only ornamental, but thoroughly sweet and com- 
 panionable. He attracts much attention. The beg- 
 gars say, " Pretty little Seiior, give me a penny. You 
 are so honiioJ^ Anita is full of enthusiasm, and 
 learning, and reads away to kill, in " Irving " and 
 " Murray," occasionally barks up the wrong tree, but 
 soon down again. As for Susan, that wily old stager 
 is still overflowing with grief for the poor Moors, 
 and trying to contrive some practical plan for their 
 
CHICAGO, AYASHIXGTON, NEW YORK 217 
 
 return to the Alhambra. Meanwhile, it seems as if 
 it might all topple do^vn some day, spite of Don 
 Senor Contreras, who keeps propping up arches and 
 re-gilding. 
 
 Peach blossoms just out, the grounds full of vio- 
 lets, but trees bare, no nightingales ; that end garden 
 near the Torre de la Vela, but scant as yet with 
 flowers, but entrancing with the wide view of the 
 snowy Sierra. We are off to-day for Africa, sailing 
 three days, perhaps, before we stop again at Oran, 
 so lots of love from us all. 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 On "Gitana," Caetagena, Spain, 
 Sunday morning, March %Jj., 1889. 
 
 MY DEAR LUC, — I have now a little tale to relate 
 which will make your hair in particular stand on 
 end; but it is all happily over, and not likely to 
 happen again, so you must be sure not to worry. . . . 
 
 On Tuesday morning we left by train and returned 
 to Malaga, getting a better view of the splendid great 
 rocks in the gorge than ever before. It 's the finest 
 scenery of the sort; but the railroad tunnels it, so 
 you have to crane your neck, and I have never before 
 been on the right side for it. 
 
 We reached Malaga, drove to the Muelle. Our 
 pretty boat awaited us, and we had a calm, peacefid 
 dinner on board, and a tranquil nighi in our cosy 
 cabins. Mark well these words, as I have done. 
 
 In the morning, Wednesday, there was great delay 
 getting off. Two tug-boats tugged their utmost to 
 haul us from our moorings, and captains of all these 
 crafts swore in Spanish, while we did our best in our 
 tongue, to be even with them. At last we were off 
 about noon, and went do^vn to lunch in our cabin, 
 
218 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 where everything looked so pretty, open piano, writ- 
 ing-desk, books, chequers, sewing scattered about. 
 No sooner did we reach the deep sea, than a gale 
 began to blow, and, my dear, long before night we 
 were tossed and pitched worse than I ever saw, not 
 stormy, you understand, but a real gale, seas sweep- 
 ing over us ! The first warning was a great slat when 
 the yacht was perfectly slanting. Everything in the 
 cabins went sliddering off from one side to the other 
 — the whole decor, anything loose, with one whoop 
 off on the floor. Nita and Nelly began to be sick, 
 took to their beds, — in fact, I was taking a nap on 
 mine when it began. Suddenly a great sea poured 
 through our sky-light, right on Anita in her berth, 
 same time the ship lurched, and all our trunks flew 
 across the cabin. The water in the basin flew up in 
 the air. The poor child gave one leap from her bed. 
 " We are sinking ! " she cried. This was very silly 
 of her, but really not surprising. I went up on deck, 
 but could only poke my head out. There were great 
 Avaves as in pictures, towering over us, not breaking, 
 the deck slanting, and, oh ! as I looked, a great swoop 
 came, and I saw a sailor fall headlong ! "" Man over- 
 board ! " was the cry ; and all was confusion, for they 
 had to turn round, with great yelling and bawling 
 of sails, to try and find him; this m.ade us wobble 
 worse than ever, a lurch, a sea of water in the big 
 cabin, every mortal thing wet through and thrown 
 down. The lamp flew out of its socket in our room 
 and hit Anita on the head, glass clattered, big trunls:s 
 jimiped from their places. Just then a steamer came 
 along. We put out a signal of distress, viz. : Union 
 Jack reversed at half-mast, and she came up to us. 
 This was to show her that a man was overboard. 
 Another great wave smashed our davits and, alas ! 
 washed away our pretty boat which always took us 
 to shore, like our cedar canoe, only bigger. We hope, 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 219 
 
 perhaps, the lost sailor found it, and was saved; or 
 that the steamer took him, for we could not be wal- 
 lowing thus in the trough of the sea, so turned again 
 sadly and headed for Cape de Gat, because it was 
 too bad to try for Oran across on the African shore. 
 Such a night ! Dark and groping, so they dared not 
 go too near land. However, they knew all the time 
 exactly where we were, and both Willy and the cap- 
 tain were splendid, alert, calm, possessed. But all 
 night we rolled and rolled in a horrid manner, not 
 going fast at all, because not sails, or not the right 
 direction, or something. Nelly was sick, both girls 
 awfully frightened. Billy Mercer, with pink cheeks, 
 but sick, curled up in a corner, no use to anybody, 
 me going from Nelly's cabin to Anita's to keep up 
 (?) their spirits — and once, in doing so, I was shot 
 across the salon upon a pile of chairs causing a per- 
 fectly fascinating black-and-blue spot, still on my 
 thigh. It is about four by two inches, and the shape 
 of the Alhambra enclosure. Our cabin ! All the 
 lockers flew open, one of them contained four dozen 
 or so Chinese lanterns, which spread themselves on 
 the floor, sopping wet, mixed with the broken lamp, 
 the contents of my small black box, all the rugs, and 
 three trunks of B. Mercer's. Anita was in my bed, 
 as hers was wet, and there was really no place to be 
 at all, for a well person; finally I went (to comfort 
 her) to Nelly's cabin, and sat on the floor by her 
 wash-stand with my head in her clothes-bag. Willy 
 was needed on deck, but he sweetly came dowTi when- 
 ever she called, to reassure her, and really (they 
 said) there was no danger, beyond — what you may 
 imagine on general principles. Well, we turned in 
 at last, I and Anita in same bed, but the thing rolled 
 so from side to side, we were thrown against each 
 other and then apart, to the anguish of my scorped 
 thigh. Not very much had been done about meals, 
 
220 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 as tlie fire had to be put out; but Willy and I par- 
 took of tongue and salad, with some cheeriness. The 
 big lamp was too wet to burn, and only one or two 
 not disabled. I put these details on record, not to 
 forget, and not to put you in anguish. In the morn- 
 ing, Thursday, I woke after a fitful sleep, and found 
 we were still, thank goodness. Dragged myself from 
 bed, feeling banged as if on horseback a week, 
 climbed to deck. We were pointed towards Carta- 
 gena, land in sight, a grey not bad morning, but no 
 wind whatever! so a mild roll, roll, which I once 
 had hated, but which now seemed perfect rest. Our 
 rail is smashed, our best boat lost, the "life-boat" 
 with a great hole in its side, so we seek this excellent 
 harbour for repose and repairs. ISTelly was by this 
 time fully disgusted with life on the wave. That 
 evening she resolved a great many things already 
 forgotten; for by the time, about noon, we dropped 
 anchor here, she had abandoned the plan of at once 
 going on shore to some vile hotel, and we are living 
 happily on the yacht, carpet taken up and dried in 
 the sun, beds and rugs, ditto. 
 
 This, you see, was Thursday, and we are still here. 
 A sweet Spanish carpenter, whose tools he inherits 
 from Tubal Cain who sailed here with ISToah, ac- 
 cording to legend, is mending our rail, — a tough 
 job, and the boat has gone to his house to be repaired. 
 By the way, just as we were coming to, in port here, 
 Gitana smashed into the Nuevo Roberto, a chunky 
 tug-boat, and broke off her mast, which came tangled 
 to our rigging. B. Mercer sprang for an axe which 
 hangs in our gangway, and a sailor with one dramatic 
 stroke, clove the thing free from us. Whereupon an 
 old Spaniard, deaf as a post, sat smoking all day on 
 our deck demanding £20 to repair his old tug. Wil- 
 liam gave him £12 finally. This was the last of our 
 disasters, and we are very happy here, — I for writ- 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 221 
 
 ing and rest, the others, because they 've had enough 
 sea, for the present! The harbour is very pretty; 
 and the town a funny old town, utterly devoid of 
 tourists or modern life. We pass our time in the 
 cabin, writing, sewing, practising, or, when we 
 choose, call a boat and go ashore for stretching our 
 legs, and to see the sleepy town. It is sweet just to 
 sit on deck and w^atcli the donkeys, boats, people, 
 perros — the sun sets in a wonderful cleft of hills. 
 I regret my sketching things, but I 'm glad I have n't 
 got them, for I am terrible behind in writing. There 
 is a rumour of a steamer to Oran; if she comes in 
 from Marseilles (a French Compagnie Transatlan- 
 tiquej you know the article!) we may cross without 
 w^aiting for the yacht, and get to Algiers by rail. 
 She was due to-day, but there are no signs of her. 
 Nelly and I went ashore the first day and drove in 
 a ridiculous tartana, a yellow sort of market-cart, 
 with two wheels like a herdic. We bought some arti- 
 chufas, and I have bought a red petticoat; but even 
 here pretty pannelos and all those things we brought 
 home are done away with. Oh, but I have got you 
 a basket here you will be pleased with. Now don't 
 worry; for Nelly is so scared she won't go anywhere 
 for more than a day out, and we shall take steamers 
 for all long trips. On the whole, I am glad of the 
 experience — only seeing the man go over was ter- 
 rible. We shall get no letters till Malta. Always 
 with much love. 
 
 Susie. 
 
 Favourable thoughts of the piazza at Matunuck 
 while we were tossing in that trough. 
 
222 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Off Leghorn, May 2, 1889. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — Strange things have happened since 
 I last touched pen. We have done Rome, Florence, 
 Pisa, Leghorn, all in five days. 
 
 I loathed, loathe, and shall loathe Rome, and have 
 always hoped to escape it, even on this expedition. 
 It was, therefore, with great gloom that I listened 
 to, and assisted William in his admirable plan for 
 a short trip, leaving the yacht at Naples, and swoop- 
 ing back to it here. We have put his plan through 
 with great success, and now I feel great satisfaction 
 that I have done Rome for good and all. As we 
 approached I peered (in imagination) down into it, 
 like Dante, or perhaps more like Orpheus, shading 
 his hand. . . . 
 
 We left Gitana with only hand-things last Satur- 
 day at eight, rowed ashore, to station and had pretty 
 ride all morning past Capua and away from Vesu- 
 vius, to Rome, — drove to Hotel Bristol, through 
 great modern, dreary streets. We had grabbed mezzo 
 polio and little flasks of wine, so did n't have to stop 
 to eat, but jumped into open carriages, Willy with 
 Anita and me, because he wanted to tell us things, 
 B. Mercer with Nelly, behind. We saw all the old 
 Roman things (see Stoddard's lectures) *Forum, 
 Column of Trajan, Palace of Caesars, *Coliseum 
 (I mark with an asterisk (as in Baedeker) the things 
 I think well of) *Borghese Gardens, the *Pincio. 
 All very interesting, nothing against them, of course ; 
 it is the sacrilege of turning this old place into a 
 frivolous den of American spinsters that irritates me. 
 Funny to see hoiu the Pincio really does look, it has 
 been so described in novels — absolutely different, 
 of course, and very charming. We kept meeting the 
 King, Queen, and Prince of Naples (their heir). 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 223 
 
 Don't you know they were just married, Humbert 
 and Margherita, when we passed through Milan? 
 The Prince is a nice-looking young man, with the 
 Hapsburg mouth and chin. I haven't the suitable 
 genealogical tables to find out how he comes by them. 
 At the hotel, a bare, hideous, modern place, were Ned 
 Everett (son of Helen) and Freddy Allen of Arthur's 
 class. These dined with us, and Ned, who is amus- 
 ing, told me of seeing Papa at Washington March 4, 
 or thereabouts. Next day, Sunday, everything was 
 shut in the way of galleries, which Willy either had 
 not, or had counted upon (he hates them, although 
 an admirable connoisseur and judge of pictures). 
 We took carriage and drove round seeing things, 
 Anita, Nelly and I ; at the Capitoline Hill where we 
 were to see the '' Dying Gladiator," etc., I made a 
 misstep and fell out of the carriage on my side. 
 Great anguish, and I thought I was dead, but it 
 proved the contrary, I was only a little faint. This, 
 however, put an end to my career for that day. I 'm 
 all right now. I just drove with them to see Castle 
 St. Angelo and outside of St. Peter's, and then left 
 them to explore the inside, while I went home. Slept 
 through the p. m. and rubbed leg with alcohol. Thus 
 ends my career in Rome ; I am glad to see that much 
 and no more of it. 
 
 Monday off again eight-thirty for Florence. . . . 
 Arrived about three; at the hotel door was Hartog, 
 the courier ! This we expected for he is now conduct- 
 ing famille Beal. . . . He at once (as a friend) 
 took us in his grip, evidently annoyed to find we do 
 so well without him. After all it was nice to see him, 
 and like the Catholic religion, we fell back with relief 
 into his arms (supply the links yourself in this com- 
 parison). It was perfectly enchanting at Florence. 
 . . . Our rooms were on the Lung Arno, which runs, 
 you know, parallel to the river, and a great dam below 
 
224 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 us made a brawling noise. All the well-known 
 bridges were there, Ponte Vecchio, etc., — and lovely 
 sky with domes against it. Our quarters large and 
 luxurious. As before we went out at once, but on 
 foot with William to see sights, the Laiizi loggie, 
 Bargello, Duomo, lots of things, as in a dream, " Per- 
 seus " by B. Cellini, into which he threw his pots and 
 pans, so familiar. . . . 
 
 Tuesday. — Betimes to the Uffizi Gallery, and our 
 whole minds given to Botticelli, Raphael, etc. Splen- 
 did gallery, saw all my old friends of Minot's photo- 
 gTaphs. It's very singular the way you go from 
 Uffizi to Pitti by a covered way all across the river 
 and the town, as if you might go all along Boylston 
 Street, cross it, and through the " Tunls;er's " house 
 to get to Carry Weld's, without going outdoors. Just 
 as we were approaching this passage, Anita saw 
 Philip turning into it. We leaped on him, and his 
 Theodore Butler. Was not this fine! — for I have 
 had none of his letters telling his plans, which letters 
 are getting on a fine bloom at Barings according to 
 custom, before sending; they joined us for the Pitti, 
 and Philip showed me what to admire, but my mind 
 was rather turned from the pictures, as you may 
 suppose. Met also Russell Sullivan, very nice and 
 cordial, but tore ourselves away from him. It was 
 lunch time, and Phil, and Butler came to lunch with 
 us in our salon, then left to return in evening. Anita 
 and I took a little carriage, and saw lots of places. 
 She was crammed with Hare's " Florence," which is 
 excellent, and I know pretty well about the things. 
 We had a fine time at San Marco, — all about Savona- 
 rola and Era Angelico, — saw a sweet old cat in Ghir- 
 landajo's "Last Supper," a fine fresco — saw the 
 Luca della Robbia's singing boys (bas-reliefs) and 
 many things, of course, omitting many; then drove 
 up to top of San Miniato, and came down, something 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 225 
 
 like Pincio. I will explain all these things by mouth 
 if you want to hear. From San Miniato is a superb 
 view of Florence, which is certainly a lovely town. 
 The dome of Brunelleschi is very fine, between you 
 and me the Cathedral it belongs to is hideous, all 
 variegated of dark and light marbles without any 
 effect, like a Chinese inlaid puzzle. Ponte Vecchio 
 is delightful, — a great bridge, but all little shops 
 like the Palais Royal, — the Goldsmiths, you know, 
 like B. Cellini. Anita and I walked along here, car- 
 riage following, to look at shop windows, — came 
 upon Willy and Nelly, who were buying all Florence, 
 — they told us to keep our carriage and go to Doney's 
 restaurant and get ice-cream and buy candy, which 
 we did — met Isabella Curtis at a street corner who 
 exclaimed, " Why Sue ! I thought of course you were 
 a Marchesa!'^ . . . 
 
 " How did you get here ? " she cried. " Why, I am 
 yachting,^^ said I. " It looks like it," said she, glanc- 
 ing at Anita, and the carriage seat heaped with 
 flowers, shopping, candy; I was sorry to have so 
 brief a view of her, for it 's long since I 've seen a 
 contemporary! . . . All these things were very ex- 
 citing; the Welds also met acquaintances, and, as 
 hitherto we have led a channed sort of life apart 
 from our kind, as it were, this return to humanity 
 was refreshing. So Wednesday, May 1, which was 
 yesterday, Hartog brought us off to Pisa, where we 
 stopped from eleven to three, — saw the lovely pulpit 
 in the baptistry, went to the top (!) of the leaning 
 tower, and through the far-famed Campo Santo — all 
 reminding me of Bologna. It is but tAventy minutes 
 rail to Leghorn and here was the yacht, our row-boat, 
 sailors and captain, just rowing ashore, hj chance, 
 to seek us, having come in, only the night before. 
 We came on board, alivays in great joy to revisit our 
 cosy quarters, and our things, for this three-days-in- 
 
226 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 a-handbag business has its drawbacks — and off be- 
 fore breakfast for Nice, with a very light wind. 
 
 Our rooms are written for in Paris for the eighth, 
 my dear, and when you receive this I shall be buried 
 in the Bon Marche. We sail the eighteenth, unless 
 there's some slip about the staterooms, or delay — 
 but I hope to be at the Thomdike in less than four 
 weeks ! ! ! My ! it will be nice. I now write to Thorn- 
 dike to bespeak my room ! . . . 
 
 YouK SusE. 
 
 To Miss Ltjceetia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June 8, 1889. 
 
 DEAE LUC, — I feel constrained to refresh myself 
 by pausing to write this. . . . 
 
 Time driveth onward fast and Louise, Emily, and 
 I dream of nothing but soap and scrubbing brushes. 
 It has been pretty up-hill work. Emily so cross, even 
 ugly at times, that I went to bed one night sure that 
 I must give her up. Not to dwell on the subject, she 
 was so mad because I chose to have tbe kitchen 
 cleaned before the red parlour, that she retired to her 
 attic tent and sulked, leaving me and Louise to 
 wrestle mth the kitchen and Estella, and gave me no 
 dinner, but a small piece of boiled flounder and no 
 pudding. This, of course, was comic, but fatiguing. 
 Joe and Emily at this period could not communicate, 
 so I had to come out of my bed between five-thirty 
 and six (his only hour) to tell him each morning to 
 bring up her wood and water. For though Peter 
 Larkin came and coupled tlie sachem and turned 
 on the ram, this ceased to work the minute his back 
 was turned. So as soon as the women had used the 
 water he had poured into the tank, they (of course 
 not telling me the water did n't run) began to clamour 
 for more, and would n't " haul " themselves. Louise, 
 
CHICAGO, WASHI^^GTON, NEW YORK 227 
 
 Emily, and Estella having eaten up by Wednesday 
 all the food I had planned for the week (old Jane 
 never ate, you remember), I walked down to the 
 beach for fish and came back bringing a stick of 
 buckeys, twelve, and one fell off on the way up, so 
 there were eleven. ISText day the " gang " sent me up 
 two flounders, which she cooked as above. All the 
 men are busy in the fields snatching greedily the 
 sunshine, after four weeks of steady rain. Elisha 
 absorbed by preparing for the Weedens. Regiilar 
 post-carrier down with the German measles, and his 
 brother driving the mail, who "didn't know," etc. 
 All the wood that is not in the cellar is wet, and it 
 was so dark in the cellar that Emily "couldn't see" 
 to go down there, and Joe wouldn't. Franklin had 
 the key to the cellar-way, and when he came on Tues- 
 day, hope revived. But he had forgotten the key, 
 so we had to pry up the staple, after waiting three 
 days, which we might have done at first. It rained 
 so, out of the question to sit outdoors, and whole 
 house so filthy, difficult to find a place inside. 
 
 There; I don't think of anything more, adverse, 
 for the moment, so I will hasten to turn the picture. 
 Emily, of herself, " got good " and was yesterday all 
 smiles and johnny cake. Mrs. Bradley brought a 
 voluntary pair of spring chickens, which I am eating, 
 delightfully broiled. Jeffrey Potter of himself came 
 and mowed the la^vn. The sun, of himself, came out. 
 The ram of itself began to run one midnight, and 
 Joe of himself took up the stair carpet, and brought 
 guinea-hen's eggs. Suddenly this morning, two blue- 
 fish, unsolicited, walked up the hill. And really 
 much is accomplished. The whole house except the 
 attic story shining clean, and redolent of soap, — 
 much cleaner, to tell the truth, than Jane used to do 
 it, between the drops, probably on account of the less 
 friction. That Pons Asinorum the kitchen closet. 
 
228 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 is crossed. All the old things thrown away, all the 
 new spices and meals put up in neat tins and pots. 
 Even Emily is radiant with its state. (It was in an 
 unusually horrid condition by reason of a bottle of 
 bluing, which poor old Nelly must have knocked 
 down, which had spattered indigo over every bowl, 
 plate, dish, shelf, wall, floor. This was why I wanted 
 that cleaned first, and we have been less blue all round 
 since.) 
 
 Thus I devoted myself yesterday, 1. To preparing 
 my part of the house for the Weedens. The big 
 parlour is sweet with the Algerine, etc., things, and 
 one or two slight changes of arrangement. 2. Then, 
 as above, to handling myself every article in the 
 kitchen-closet, opening the "stores" and filling the 
 pots and jugs therewith. Then to Weedens' with my 
 silver and linen to set their table for their first meal. 
 Then to my broiled chicken, and then to make a rich 
 Parisian toilette, and seat myself with studied ele- 
 gance to receive their first visit, should they come 
 up. 'Twas in the parlour doorway opening on the 
 west piazza, at my little oval table, in my favourite 
 rock-chair. I had on my black net shirt, and new 
 red waist, with silver Constantino pins. Hemmed 
 new Paris napkins as I sat, alternating Avith the 
 pages of my French "Virgil," — while on the table 
 was my Sicilian orange h'd'k'f. Jander was on the 
 window-seat and the scent of Jeffrey's hay floated in 
 across his nose (Lander's). 
 
 They didn't come! that is Mackart didn't, and 
 Leila and t"wins remain in Prov. — but Raymer aiid 
 Jamie came trooping up with the little girls, — and 
 later Mr. W. came and passed a long, agreeable hour, 
 after which I went down and took tea and strawber- 
 ries with them. I think my artistic effect was lost 
 on these spectators, but after all 'twas myself I 
 sought to please. . . . 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YOKK 229 
 
 I take leave of you very happy and with prospects 
 of a calmer week. . . . 
 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss LrcEETiA P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June 2^, 1889. 
 
 DEAE LUC, — Hoped to write you a great letter, 
 but tlie thing has begun, and I have not a moment 
 to myself. It is now just short of mail time. 
 
 But everything is going on sweetly. I wish the 
 calm of a small family could be kept along with the 
 delights of a large one! Robert arrived Saturday 
 P.M. by the new train (two o'clock from Boston), 
 which works extremely well, as people get themselves 
 all steadied in time for an excellent six-thirty eve- 
 ning meal (not tea, because there is not any). 
 
 I will describe one day as a pattern of our present 
 state, by which you will see that for a family of three 
 persons, my staff of three servants, with the outside 
 addition of Joe, Louise, Franklin, Elisha, Albert 
 Sebastian, and Estella, is ample. At five-thirty, 
 Emily softly glides down-stairs, and I hear the gentle 
 stir of the poker, and the softly falling coal-scuttle. 
 I turn to my slumbers, secure in the prospect of a 
 good breakfast. Perchance Franklin is stealthily 
 splitting a kindling, or Joe breathlessly dropping ice 
 into the new refrigerator. 
 
 At six-thirty precisely, Katy trips over the stairs, 
 and soon the willing ram fills her pails. She brings 
 one to Anne's door, and gently taps her awake. 
 Now is the time for me to rise. I fijid in Fullum's 
 room my tub, towels and bath-gown, all as I wish, — 
 and, slipping on my " Billy Mercer," I run up-stairs 
 to wake Robert, and hold our morning chat. Com- 
 ing back to my own bath I call to Emily out of win- 
 dow, "You may let up the kittens, now," and she 
 
230 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 throws wide the cellar-door, whereon Theodore and 
 Emma rush out and come up to join my bath. (They 
 are rather unworthy, and I am very doubtful about 
 keeping them; but wholly hind-house cats, so don't 
 trouble the family at all.) Now Nelly, the stem 
 little sister of Katy, passes down to the kitchen, 
 leading Estella, whom she has clothed the while. At 
 seven sharp, I descend to the front of the house, which 
 I find well aired, doors open, big parlour dusted, 
 flowers fresh, and Katy just bringing in breakfast, 
 which we have in the red room. Nelly goes up to 
 tell Miss Bursley breakfast is ready. Robert appears, 
 and we have a charming little meal, with great roses 
 on the table, sent by Cornelia. After breakfast, the 
 Gospel according to Edge worth, and then I go to my 
 writing, much curtailed by chat, however; then (and 
 not before, you observe), I visit the kitchen and lay 
 out the food of the day with the cook. Yesterday 
 being Sunday, Robert did a " Sybarite ! " I clothed 
 myself in my Paris light mousse-coloured gown; 
 Anne got herself together, and we went down to 
 church; a lovely day, rather cold. Leila and twins 
 are just arrived. They came up after church, in 
 fact, were here all day. We walked to Tuckers in 
 p. M. — laurel superb, going fast. Then coming back 
 at six-thirty, Emily had all ready, and Katy her part 
 as well, bluefish, johnny cakes, and jelly cake, and 
 we had both houses fully represented on the piazza, 
 with many wraps, all evening. But I must stop. 
 Love to your hostesses. 
 
 To Edward E. Hale, Je. 
 
 453 Marlboro Street, Boston, 
 November 15, 1889. 
 DEAR EDWARD, — I havc got my list pretty much 
 made out. Perhaps I will send it to you later. I 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 231 
 
 want to know whom you think it would be well to 
 begin with, for the verj first go off, you know I am 
 starting with the present, to work back. Of course 
 I want my first gim to be taking, and attract the 
 attention of these ten foolish young virgins. I want 
 to read (and condense) therefore, some good (but 
 not too familiar) recent novel, or other prose, but 
 entertaining, — and read a little poem. What do you 
 think of George Meredith's "Richard Feveral," and 
 if so, how can I have any life of him to give in brief 
 words? Then I thought a poem of Austin Dobson. 
 If so, what life of him? I have reserved two days 
 for these modern living people, before coming to 
 Dickens and Tennyson. Tell me what you think. 
 Would you have Stevenson for one, instead of Mere- 
 dith, or besides him ? It goes pretty smooth after 
 that; I am only making the lists now in order to 
 have some printed, after which I shall employ myself 
 in getting together all the lives of the people, and 
 selecting what to read. "Minto" is charming; I 
 have bought it. 
 
 Andrew Lang would be good, wouldn't he, for 
 one of my modems? 
 
 We are having a wallowing time here. The house 
 is lovely really in the country, with open views over 
 " Charlesgate East " to the park. I made a water- 
 colour sketch yesterday from the open window. . . . 
 
 Amelia B. Edwards is really great. She is just 
 as easy and simple with the audience as I am at 
 Matunuck, and she knows lots. The Boston women 
 are all there trying to look as if they knew the same 
 things. . . . 
 
 /^c^ a^^^^ 
 
232 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 1214 Eighteenth Stkeet, Washington, D. C, 
 Tuesday, January IJf., 1890. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — I will now endeavour to write you 
 a great long letter, for it can't be kno^vn when I shall 
 have time for another, as my classes are coming on 
 after this thick and fast. I'm to have a grown-up 
 one, on between days, which will make me busy 
 nearly every morning, but good for my pocket. But 
 I will begin with this dinner of last night to get it 
 off my mind while fresh, and then revert to yours 
 received yesterday, and other matters of high 
 interest. . . . 
 
 Well, you see, long ago, came a great card as big 
 as a house inviting me to this dinner. I take it as 
 very nice of the Mortons to at once pay me the at- 
 tention, puts things on a pleasant footing; and this 
 particular dinner, as you know, for the Judges, is 
 of all others the most desirable for grandness (though, 
 likely, the most dull). Even the mugwump residue 
 of the Cleveland dynasty must needs regard it as 
 great, because all these judges are the same as last 
 year, when Tuckermans, Wards, and the like were 
 proud to be present to meet them. So every one ex- 
 claimed, "You! dine mth the judges! How splen- 
 did!" My nice Mrs. Cummings (lives with Blatch- 
 fords, sister of Sam Wells and Kate Gannett), cried, 
 "You dine at the V.-P.'s to-night. Well, wear the 
 very best gown you ever had in your life ! " Great 
 anxiety and interest was thus sho\vn in the event by 
 all my Job's comforters here. How Euth (Hoar) 
 in her niceness, without knowing this, had asked 
 Papa and me to go round with her, same p. m., yester- 
 day, to call on all these same people, " Judges' day," 
 Monday, without knowing I was to dine "with them. 
 In the carriage it came out. " You going ! " " You 
 

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 SusAX IIai.i-:, about 1865 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 233 
 
 going ! " we both said, and embraced ; this was nice 
 for me, for at their teas, I saw all these women, so 
 when we met at the dimier they were all quite pleased 
 to see me, and ran and got their husbands to show 
 them to me. . . . 
 
 In great fear and trembling I climbed into my 
 long-tailed gown, the white trimmed with Algiers 
 stripes. Do tell Miss Bolger it fits like a glove, and 
 amazed everybody with its suitableness — and good 
 effect. Though the Senators' wives sate behind great 
 diamond crescents in red velvet gowns, . . . Ruth 
 had a very pretty white satin and sort of yellowish 
 brocade dinner gown. Judge Field of California 
 was to take me out, and he proved very gallant, talka- 
 tive and agreeable, rather ponderous and Avould-be- 
 judicial, in manner. But Mr. Senator Hoar was on 
 the other side, of course, friendly and most jolly, and 
 
 Senator Evarts Mrs. Sands Bancroft Davis 
 
 
 U B 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 °Hoar 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Senator Lamar 
 
 Judge 
 
 °Brewer 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 Mrs. Blatchford 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 oEdmunds 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Judge Harlan 
 
 Judge 
 
 oGray 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Mrs. Morrill 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 oMiller 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Judge Blatchford 
 
 
 Vice-President 
 
 Mrs 
 
 Morton 
 
 o 
 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 oFuller 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Senator Edmunds 
 
 Judge 
 
 oMiller 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 Mrs. Field 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 oBrewer 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Justice Fuller 
 
 Justice 
 
 oField 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Mrs. Lamar 
 
 Me 
 
 
 
 o o 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 Senator Morrill 
 
 Sena 
 
 tor Hoar Mrs. Berdan 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 Ba 
 
 ncr 
 
 oft Davis 
 
 Dinner at the Vice-President's for the Bench, some 
 Senators, and Myself 
 
 our end was altogether the lively one, for most of 
 these great men prefer, I believe, to slumber on the 
 lea like the pimpernel, as they dine, and their wives, 
 in general, are not the sort to rouse them. . . . 
 The dining-room at the V.-P.'s is newly built on 
 
234 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 by them to their gorgeous house, and is a handsome, 
 vaulted room, the table looked lovely, though simply 
 adorned with a mound of ferns, and the end heaps 
 of bright roses. Endless menu, of course, and plenty 
 of champagne. The Brewers are the newest comers, 
 just appointed. She is a pretty, quiet, little woman. 
 
 Much love from 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 1214 18th Steeet, WASHiNOTOisr, D. C. 
 10:30 A. M., Tuesday, January 28, 1890. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — . . . Had a nice time receiving 
 with Anna Dawes Thursday, p. m. She is a charm- 
 ing hostess, and attacks her " tea " just as we should, 
 not merely standing (as many here do) like a graven 
 image at her door with pump-handle attachment. 
 Result is, people love to go there, and swarms poured 
 in, many really agreeable, and of whom I could tell 
 great yarns, — so odd are the threads which keep 
 coming up here to tie these folks to our family or 
 my old haunts. . . . 
 
 The Senator himself came down on purpose to 
 meet me, very agreeable. 
 
 From there I went to a great reception at Mrs. 
 Leiter's, in her superb house (built by Mr. Blaine). 
 Here were swarms, again, of people more swell, in 
 their own estimation, than some of the Dawes crowd 
 (though these were pretty fine). Friday evening was 
 the great Wanamaker reception. I wore my yellow 
 lace gown, and really amused myself, standing with 
 Admiral and Mrs. Crosby near the entrance, who told 
 me who was worth knowing of the eleven hundred 
 announced guests, and presented me to some. My 
 dear sweet Mrs. Edmunds was also there, and Mrs. 
 Davis, whom I conceive to be Mrs. Cabot Lodge's 
 
CHICAGO, WASHII^GTON, NEW YORK 235 
 
 sister-in-law or something of the sort (not Mrs. Ban- 
 croft D.), was particularly nice to me. It was a 
 tremendous jam, though the house, same as the Sec. 
 Whitneys had last year, is huge, with an added hall- 
 room, where hired musicians were bawling, but no- 
 body paid the slightest attention. Pa Wanamaker 
 was there. I like him, but had no chance to speak 
 about the Matunuck P. O. He has no wine ever at 
 his sprees, which rather pleases the public, as at the 
 Whitney's, same place, too much champagne was 
 given, so that the guests were apt to be notoriously 
 affected by it. The girls Wanamaker and Morgan 
 were very nice to me, and so was Mrs. That was my 
 great outburst for last week, and minor ones must 
 be omitted. . . . 
 
 Yrs., 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 St. Louis ( ! ) Missouri, Sunday, 
 
 March 9, 1890. 
 
 {10 o'clock with you, 9 here.) 
 
 DEAR LUC, — I am writing in bed ! Not from in- 
 capacity, but because my trunks are not yet here, 
 on account of late arrival last evening. So Mrs. C. 
 conceived it Avell for me to take the course of not 
 getting up ; and I have just finished a most delicious 
 breakfast, gTcat rose on a tray with coffee, fish-balls, 
 orange, etc., and now can't restrain myself from de- 
 scribing my truly lovely surroundings. 
 
 The house is away out of town, as you said ; quite 
 analogous to the Bursleys' new situation, in all re- 
 spects I should think, only that it is far more country 
 here than they are, more like Edward's house in 
 Worcester when he first went there, surrounded by 
 open fields and sky. Mr. and Mrs. G. O. C. met me 
 at the station 7 : 30 p. m. last evening, and I was 
 
236 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 drawn in their comfortable carriage away across an 
 immense to^vn, long, straight streets with cable-cars 
 in them, and very dark and dingy. There is an im- 
 mense deep cut for the railroad which divides the 
 town in two, and over this are great distinguished 
 bridges sparkling with electric lights. We crossed 
 one of these and then came away up into the suburbs, 
 but not up any hill because it is all flat as a pan- 
 cake. . . . 
 
 Eor here I will go back to the trip to emphasise 
 the fact that I was tired, though it was a fairly com- 
 fortable one. I got off from W. in marvellous peace. 
 Edes famille most affectionate, had to sit round hold- 
 ing their hands for an hour after lunch, nothing else 
 to do as baggage had gone, and it seemed proper, 
 also. They have been marvellous good to me, and 
 strange to say, I have come to condone their faults, 
 and much attached to their merits, although I will 
 describe their faults at Matunuck. Took horse, I 
 mean steam, at three-thirty, in a parlour car, very 
 comfortable, quite solitary. At Harrisburg, we 
 climbed out of this and into our sleeper, no difficulty, 
 just across the track; this was after dark, so no im- 
 pression could be got of the place. In fact, I am 
 much like ISTellie Ely in this respect, having seen but 
 little of the coimtry I passed through this time. I 
 proceeded at once to the dining-car, and had a very 
 good meal, everything on the menu you like, pay one 
 dollar, whether you eat it or not. There was some 
 river outside, and I turned to look at it. " Oh, 
 what 's that ! " I exclaimed, meaning what sheet of 
 water. " That 's the moon," said the gentleman op- 
 posite, as to one as yet unfamiliar with the heavenly 
 bodies of the locality. When I praised the effect on 
 the water, he said, "Yes, that moon-scene is nice." 
 I saw no more of him. And then came the bed busi- 
 ness, too hot, too cold, thump ty-thump, jag-dy-jag. 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 237 
 
 man snoring oj^posite, stopping the minute you get 
 used to going, going the minute you are resigned to 
 stop. At Pittsburg, 2 a. m., the porter came and ad- 
 vised me in a friendly manner to sit up and look at 
 it, and it was weird and wonderful, gTeat blazing 
 lights of natural gas, and chimneys glowing, besides 
 electric dotted up a great hill. 'T was here we 
 changed the time, and became one o'clock when it 
 was two. 
 
 Now you know, and don't need to be told, the odi- 
 ous part is getting up in the morning, with the day 
 before you in the old smelly place, not one effort to 
 ventilate it. In fact, I consider the vestibule business 
 a misfortune, for it prevents fresh air getting into the 
 whole train, so that cigar smoke is wafted all through 
 together with dining-car and all other possible odours. 
 However, I got the " toilet " first, and had a refresh- 
 ing dowse in ice-cold water for my head. The beds 
 were gradually made, and it is a change to go to the 
 dining-room and get an excellent breakfast, coffee 
 beastly, of course, but plenty of it. The day is long, 
 — varied by local newspapers at each big town, and 
 an occasional walk at stations on the platform, when 
 time allows. Colder than anything I 've had all win- 
 ter, hard ice on all ponds, and sparse snow, — fields 
 brown, and bare, and I must say landscape most un- 
 interesting, long, flat plain, spindly woods, scatter- 
 ing towns of wooden houses, — the sunset fine over 
 monotonous stubble fields. About noon, the human 
 beings began to warm towards each other. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
238 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 St. Louis, Missouri, Wednesday, 
 March 12, 1890. 
 Well, well, mj dear, strange doings. . . . Yes, 
 Washington was a scrimmage, but all those events, 
 and eke jours (forgive me!) seem pale like this ink, 
 before the vortex in which I am now turning. Be- 
 fore my eyes are, ever, Agnes Repplier or George 
 Egbert Craddock, for I am being lionized here madly, 
 furiously, as they were in Boston, only more so. I 
 seek to profit by their defects, and to seem simple 
 and unelevated in company, to strive to discern dif- 
 ferences between Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Bones, and to 
 give due honour to the local lights, instead of treat- 
 ing them with the contempt which I received myself 
 from Repplier; but as I recognise her difficulties, I 
 become indulgent to her failures. Mrs. Carpenter 
 proves a little trump. I have closed my eyes and 
 just follow where she pulls the string. She led me 
 (although partly my fault) into the scrape so admir- 
 ably described in the enclosed cutting that I rejoice 
 not to spend any time over it, only you can imagine 
 the brain-whirl which accompanied it. Lucky enough 
 I had read Evelina twice in one day so lately, for 
 thus, without the slightest preparation, I could go 
 through with it, in great glory, and only additional 
 triumph. 
 
 Here pause, and read the slip from paper.^ 
 That was Monday p. m. You left me in bed Sun- 
 day (perhaps you are just reading that letter). 
 Sunday, at six o'clock tea, were about thirty people, 
 Mrs. C.'s own friends she had asked to meet me, — 
 all coming to shake hands as to a lion {a la Repplier), 
 afterwards eating at small tables scattered about the 
 
 * The wrong book having been brought, Miss Hale could not 
 give the reading she had prepared. 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 239 
 
 rooms. The most charming person here, so far, is 
 this Mrs. Lackland, a sister of old Rev. Elliot. 
 She is a sort of Chanoinesse (but really not much 
 older than I), very pretty, grey hair, sweet man- 
 ners, worldly, bright, full of wit and talk. She 
 was here, and other men and women of interest. 
 Evidently ive belong to the bright, literary, radical 
 set, not great on clothes or conventions, scornful of 
 the " fashionable," church-, Lent-keeping set who rep- 
 resent Beacon Street here. Many of them I have 
 since seen ; but I guess the others are more represen- 
 tative of real St. Louis. Ask Papa. His Mr. 
 Learned was here, and Mrs. He very genial and 
 nice. But they were all little more than phantoms 
 at that time. 
 
 All is charming, thoughtful, considerate, in the 
 house here. I am tended like a precious piece of 
 porcelain. The talk chiefly turns (no, but often), 
 on the sale of my tickets, which was a wonder of 
 good management. The room holds one hundred, the 
 seats are gone long ago, and the omitted, howling in 
 anguish. . . . 
 
 There; now, you have the lay of the land. Mrs. 
 Copelin (pronounced ''Copelan") had a gorgeous, far 
 too filling dinner, after that we drove (an endless 
 distance) to the pretty room where I was to read. 
 Here was Mrs. Carpenter, much elated, as, spite the 
 fearful weather, pouring torrents, and such mud ( ! ) 
 the place was full (only two seats vacant). Mrs. 
 Lackland's little speech was charming, and the thing 
 went splendidly, rather better for the blunder about 
 the books, but imagine my condition for a few mo- 
 ments ! Everyone was presented afterwards, very 
 gushing. . . . 
 
 Tuesday, 1 went to town with a neighbour, Mrs. 
 Herf, in a carriage, and bought a pair of thick boots, 
 for nothing I have is fit for the mud. At two, we 
 
240 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 all went to a great limck at Mrs. Copelin's where 
 were about one hundred women. I wore my black 
 net over white silk, with a sash of vieux rose. The 
 lunch was at little tables, made a sort of " progres- 
 sive " one, for after each course, I was moved, as the 
 lion of the occasion, presented to about six new 
 women, and expected to say something brilliant, or 
 at least, literary. This was rather trying as there 
 were six courses, and six changes to six tables, but I 
 lend myself to this starring business with some zest 
 and amusement. . . . There was a woman there 
 (name hopeless), who asked if my sister was the 
 author of the " Queen Red Chessman," which she 
 much admires. We got away at five, had a light sort 
 of dinner after so much eating, and then were hawked 
 down town to John Fishe's last lecture on "Early 
 America " ; same, I suppose, you heard. Mrs. Hem- 
 enway pays for the course here, and everybody goes. 
 He is much feted and adored, and loves his St. Louis 
 much. In the hall he used, I am to do the " Elixir " 
 next Monday evening ; the tickets are selling like wild- 
 fire; the wily Carpenters kept them back till after 
 I had made my first impression. . . . This time it 
 is for the Training School for Nurses, and they will 
 doubtless clear some hundreds, besides paying my 
 two hundred dollars and expenses. 
 
 I am now even with the present time, for this 
 morning I have but prepared " Cherubina " for to- 
 night. Very ingeniously they have put this one read- 
 ing in the evening, in a larger hall, with the permis- 
 sion on this one coupon for ladies to bring their 
 " authorised escorts " each one, this admits the men, 
 doubles the audience, for the same money ; the tickets 
 are all season, five dollars for the course of six, with 
 this tit-bit for the men thrown in. All the planning, 
 Mr. Carpenter's, is wonderful, and I wish I could 
 take him starring with me everywhere. 
 
CHICAGO, WASHINGTON, NEW YORK 241 
 
 Every available moment while I stay is engaged 
 to some lunch, tea, club, dinner, or reading, and 
 people wroth that no vacant times remain. I could n't 
 stand the racket long, but guess I can for these two 
 weeks. It is indeed amusing, and then peaceful 
 mornings are a great relief. Then we have really 
 charming talks, Mrs. Carpenter in my room, very 
 appreciative, herself full of fun and good talk, real 
 Boston, . . . 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 SUSE. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Summer at Matunuck, 1890 — " The Elixir of 
 Youth" ai Olana — Trip to Europe with Miss 
 Su^an Day, 1891 — Winter in California giving 
 readings, 1892 — Matunuch, 1892 — Out West 
 again. 
 
 (1890-1892) 
 
 To Edward E. Hale, Jk. 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, May 2, 1890. 
 
 DEAR EDWARD, — I am djing to go to Persia. I 
 always was, since I saw the architectural coloured 
 pictures Mr, Church has, and you laiow that book 
 of Persian poets of his. Of course, let us go in two 
 years. I can easily make twenty-five hundred dol- 
 lars next winter and the winter after, and that will 
 be enough, unless we change our minds, — but really, 
 merely by planning them beforehand in this way, I 
 have often accomplished things as difiicult. You 
 acquire the language, and I will attend to minor lan- 
 guages; though McNutt says he gave up Persia 
 (going across from !Nijni ISTovgorod), because he felt 
 that he didn't know enough Russian to accomplish 
 it in safety. He Avas a little man in Washington, 
 who talks every language. But we can do it. 
 
 It is perfectly heavenly here, and I wish this could 
 be your time. Cornelia is running me, and she is 
 really just the right sort. She cooks splendidly, and 
 she goes her own way, I mine, and without any 
 bother the things are done. Her son, Johnny, is also 
 on hand and Franklin is coming to-day. Her Hannah 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 243 
 
 is to do my chamber work, and an excellent cook they 
 have provided will take Cornelia's place, when the 
 family begins. 
 
 The land seems more enchanting than ever, just 
 beginning to tint with spring soft colours. Great 
 dish of mayflowers before me. I heard a whippoor- 
 will, he suddenly started up in the middle of the 
 night, made one remark and was silent again. The 
 " Summerus " is blo"v\Ti down. I seem to not regret it 
 in the least. The seats were very hard, — yet there 
 you recited the "Deserted Village" to your exas- 
 perated brothers. . . . Mail-time. 
 
 Yrs., 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, Sunday, 
 June 1, 1890. 
 
 DEAE LUCRETIA, — At thrcc-thirty this morn, in a 
 yellow da'wn, as perchance you have heard, Cornelia 
 and I met on the pave in night go\vns. At quarter 
 of four I was taking my bath, and she was grinding 
 the coffee, at quarter past Papa and I were drinking 
 the delicious results of her grind, and at half past 
 we were on the road. As I turned into the woods 
 on my homeward way, having left him on the Kings- 
 ton platform, it was half-past five! Such lovely 
 smells, sight, sounds ; the trip was delicious. I let the 
 old fool-horse dawdle along, — flew out to get a quan- 
 tity of lady's-slippers, like yours, under an oak tree, 
 had a delicious conversation with Welcome Kenyon, 
 pronounced " Kinyon," and when I next saw the clock 
 in the red room, it was — five minutes past seven. 
 
 It's now eleven-thirty. It seems seons since then. 
 But suddenly in honour of Edward, we have tumbled 
 into regular summer weather. The windows are 
 open; we have no fire. I have a summer shirt on. 
 
244 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Sun pours in. Leaves wave and rustle. Someliow 
 or other, all is wholly changed. This was partly 
 owing to the magic of Papa's presence, for we had 
 a beautiful time, all the more so from its concentrated 
 briefness. I hope you may be seeing him at this pre- 
 cise moment, and learning the same thing, for I 'm 
 sure he enjoyed it. I emphasise this, and pray ob- 
 serve it is emphasised before going on to describe the 
 malaproperties which mixed themselves with the oc- 
 casion. But these were really trifling compared with 
 the niceness of seeing him. I 'm only afraid I bored 
 him fearfully with the gabble he indulgently allowed 
 me. But I guess it did him good to let me talk. He 
 seemed discouraged when he came, and I think en- 
 joyed it all himself. 
 
 In the first place observe : — I have been here four 
 weeks. Each separate week, he has "written to say 
 he would be here. Therefore we have kept his study 
 swept and garnished, and the bedroom all ready, — 
 that remains so still. Finally he wrote he shouldn't 
 come at all. Tyndales, after saying they should, said 
 they should n't till next week. Now under these an- 
 ticipations, I kept postponing the crisis of the house- 
 cleaning, viz, : oiling the parlour and entry floor. 
 My dear, they were just oiled, and everything they 
 contained piled in a heap in Papa's study when he 
 arrived, so he couldn't set foot in it, even cross the 
 threshold. Moreover, the time, which eateth all 
 things, had just brought the moment when your room 
 and my room were being cleaned, everything they 
 contain was in the entry, so that Papa had to climb 
 over them to get to his room. All my things were in 
 Nelly's room (mattresses, gowns, etc.) so he couldn't 
 go there, and in Fullum's room were assembled all 
 the brooms, pails, slops, dusters, in action for this 
 assault. The dining-room was cleaned but impas- 
 sable, all the kitchen things were outdoors. A howl- 
 
MATUNUCK, EUEOPE, CALIFOKNIA 245 
 
 ing wind made all outdoors untenable except the big 
 porch, and this could only be reached by going out 
 of the red room window, because the parlour and 
 entry were fresh oiled. You could n't open this same 
 red room window for a moment without all the things 
 out of his bag blowing all over everything ; and here 
 we also had to eat, as there was too much wind on all 
 j)iazzas. Happily his own room up-stairs, the blue, 
 was cleaned fresh, and I made the bed myself, so 
 there he had a great nap. Cornelia was excellent, 
 and we really had a lovely morning on the east 
 piazza reached by rope-ladder, so to speak, — took an 
 excellent walk p. m. and then, for the first time since 
 I came ! it was warm enough to watch the sunset from 
 my seat (summer-house blown down) and a great 
 moon. No wood-fire! scarcely lamps as we went to 
 bed at eight. Dinner (twelve-fifteetf), so no more 
 now. 
 
 Yours, 
 SuzE. 
 
 P. S. Monday morning. — ]\£y dear, it is warm ! ! 
 Really warm. Thermometer says, " summer heat," 
 76° in the shade, and last evening I sat on the porch 
 till bedtime. Saw sunset on " Susan's Seat," and 
 great nearly full moon flooding the scene, without a 
 wrap, without a chill. Oh ! ! it makes so much differ- 
 ence. Suddenly the idea of fires is forgot, the red 
 room deserted, my (own) bedroom a paradise, and all 
 the piazzas practicable. I fear now a storm, but that 
 peg once in, we hold on to the theory at least of sum- 
 mer. And at five-thirty this morning arrived the 
 dusky band, headed by Cornelia, now retired on half- 
 pay (literally), who will break in the new cook, and 
 finish the odds and ends (well named) of cleaning, 
 the bottom of the pot closet and the top of the front 
 door. Lucy, a nice wistful-looking coloured, who 
 
246 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 made me excellent hash for breakfast. Hannah, who 
 is now singing as she makes my bed (too frequently 
 of late the work of my own hands). Outdoors 
 George I is restoring the " droive-way " destroyed by 
 I-talians. He is aided by his serf. 'Lisha is painting 
 the boats. Albert Sebastian is whetting his scythe 
 to cut the lawn. Franklin is beating the rugs, and 
 their dust is flying in again at the windows. Lionel 
 Clark is hurrying from Wakefield with paint to do 
 the piazza settees, neglected by the painters. All this 
 because 'tis June, and the Weedens are coming. 
 Only this stirs the back side to any activity, and I 
 waste my breath till now. Mr. Cove is rebottoming 
 the piazza chairs. 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To George L. Clarke 
 
 Matunuck, EnoDE Island, 
 September 7, 1890. 
 
 YOU POOR DEAR GEORGE, — No woudcr you Were 
 terrified. I hope you have already heard it was only 
 the stable and bam. My house is saved. It was 
 terrible enough any way, one of the nights that cut 
 a deep mark. We were all aroused by Billy's an- 
 guished cry, " Fire ! Come down ! Bring pails ! " 
 Of course I thought, and each separate one, "It is 
 Our House/' but looking out I saw a fierce glare for 
 background sharp against the Weedens', and thought 
 sure it was that house. In an instant, incredibly 
 quick, all our men were clothed (?) and tearing down 
 the hill with green pails in their hands. In a few 
 minutes, at my porch, in my night gown, I received 
 poor old Bailey and Ellen, — the little girls, — 
 whimpering they had n't any place to go to. Popped 
 them into my bed in Fullum's room, where Alice 
 and Rose Perkins had come to see the scene from 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 247 
 
 that window. We all thought the W. house would 
 go, sure. A man was sitting like a cat up on the 
 roof, yelling for water, and they all set to hauling it 
 from the well and conveying it there. This saved the 
 house, which, however, is blistered and scorched and 
 would have caught inevitably, but for the water ; and 
 then the wind changed and led the flames towards the 
 sea. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mrs. Weeden was brought up here by 
 Louis (our boys were fine), and I put her on the 
 lounge. Later came Leila and Esther Butts. We 
 made a little wood blaze in the red room and sate 
 there talking low. Raymer and Jamie (well scared) 
 went to bed in Louis' room (Nelly's). We knew 
 then that both barns were lost, and the horses roasted 
 in the flames. . . . The coachman woke to find the 
 barn burning, lost his head, could n't find the door to 
 let out the horses, and escaped himself through some 
 window without a thing. All of us are sure it was 
 his pipe or matches that set the fire, but he is so de- 
 nuded, nobody accuses him. 
 
 I never shall forget that dawn, the flaming sky, a 
 waning moon, and the still, calm, cold light that crept 
 on us before the sun. The girls and I walked round 
 the house, we were all sort of calm but excited. 
 " Susan, why don't you go to bed ? " "I have n't got 
 any bed ! " But by broad daylight we turned out the 
 little girls, they ran home, and I turned in for one 
 hour, — for at seven, we had a good breakfast for 
 hungry, grimy Robert, Louis, Phil., Harry. Parber 
 had been forced to turn in about four. 
 
 They have $2400 insurance and the house to be 
 painted. The old billiard table, insured, brought 
 three hundred dollars ! Its legs, reversed, made a 
 prominent part of the sight. . . . 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susan. 
 
248 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Olana, October 17, 1890. 
 
 MY CAROLINE, — I feel it is time I should slirive 
 myself to you after total abstinence from all commu- 
 nication through the summer. You see I have aban- 
 doned Matunuck, shut the house, and fled hither to 
 the mountains, where there is peace, after a tumultu- 
 ous season which I will proceed to describe to you. 
 
 Now Robert Hale, the youngest nephew, who is a 
 dear, conceived about those days the idea that he 
 would no longer be a burden to his parents, neither 
 take from the parental pocket that gold which was 
 needful for his sustenance, and eke for his boots and 
 trousers ; and he said to me : " Susan, I will go forth 
 into the mldemess and make a good business in rais- 
 ing locusts and wild honey for the market." And I 
 said : " Robert, do not this thing, but come with me 
 as usual to Matunuck, and I will put money in thy 
 mouth and food in thy wallet." 
 
 Whereupon I encompassed him about with three 
 youths to teach and coach for their schools and col- 
 leges, viz., Louis Church, the youngest son of this 
 place, a dear as ever was, aged twenty-one; Hugh 
 Williams, son of Martha and Moses, you know, a 
 handsome tall-headed youth, very sweet, and a lazy 
 dog; and one Harry Rice, of whom we became very 
 fond. He was to be crammed for " Hoppy's " school 
 (more respectfully Mr. John Hopkinson), Hugh was 
 to enter, if the thing could be brought to pass, this 
 autumn at Harvard, and Louis was to read English 
 literature for life in general. So one day in June 
 these three youths settled upon me, all shy, all home- 
 sick, all scared to death of us ; like cats on the fence 
 they gazed at each other and said no word. I had 
 also in the house Lucretia ; the Rev. Edward, always 
 delightful, but somewhat awesome to the youths; 
 
MATU^^UCK, EUEOPE, CALIFORNIA 249 
 
 Robert, whom they also feared, though he strove to 
 look very gentle on them; and Philip the nephew, 
 fresh from Paris, the genius of the family, most de- 
 lightfully amusing, but eccentric and lawless to the 
 last degree. 
 
 To these were added unto me as the summer went 
 on, all sorts of inflictions and afflictions, partly in the 
 form of joy and delight, fair girls, who flirted with 
 these boys ; Minot, for a w^eek, who has become very- 
 fat and forty, and carries round with him a photo- 
 graph gallery of his numerous progeny, remarkably 
 pretty little girls and several twins; the great Alex- 
 ander Harrison, who came over from Newport to 
 encourage Phil, and pass judgment on his work ; my 
 Jack, otherwise Edward, Jr., who stayed a fortnight 
 with us before going off for three years on the Conti- 
 nent. He has a travelling fellowship conferred on 
 him by Harvard for that time (five hundred dollars 
 a year), and is to study literature, philology, ethnol- 
 ogy, and all the -logy things belonging to language, in 
 German universities. That's the end of him, as far 
 as I am concerned, for the present ; but so it is with 
 nephews, as with other stock, one do^\^l and another 
 come on. This is not the half of my list of inmates, 
 but the rest of it would only bore you. I had angels 
 in the kitchen, they were coloured ones, " Rye and 
 Indian," I call them, native neighbours; and a very 
 choice cat, called Timorous Tim. . . . 
 
 Well, the campaign was a great success. The three 
 youths became so fond of the place they could not 
 bear to leave it. Harry got into his school, and Hugh 
 got into his college, and Louis got well and strong 
 and jolly, which was the real object of his coming, and 
 Phil, painted two portraits and lots of sketches, and 
 Lucretia grew fat, and Papa Edward was rested 
 and refreshed, and all the boys fell in love with all 
 the girls, and got over it immediately afterwards. 
 
250 LETTEES OF SUSAIST HALE 
 
 and the money came out about even for the house- 
 keeping, and Robert has four hundred and fifty dol- 
 lars in the bank to start with. He is twent^'-one, and 
 he has resolved not to come upon his father any more ; 
 is n't that plucky ? 
 
 Now, so great and joyous a summer worked for 
 the glorification of Susan, who was adored by great 
 and small ; but, perhaps, you can guess that very little 
 was left of her at the end of it. So as soon as I could 
 get rid of the last of them, I locked the door and 
 came off up here, where dear Mrs. Church was long- 
 ing for me, and here I fell upon a bed and slept for 
 three days, except for putting on good clothes and 
 being agreeable at the necessary periods. 
 
 Always your faithful 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Olana, Thursday, October 16, 1890. 
 DEAR LUC, — . . . ]^ow to my events; my dear, 
 on Saturday evening I did the " Elixir of Youth " 
 here ! Mrs. Warner thorned Mrs. Church to make 
 me ( I 'm displeased with Mrs. W. for this foolish- 
 ness), and I couldn't well refuse, although I had not 
 a thing in the way of costumes, and only that small 
 trunk's worth of my usual clothes. It was sprung 
 on me at breakfast. I yielded, and everybody flew 
 off in different directions on different behests. 
 Downie to Hudson to buy false hair and rouge, Louis 
 and Leila to drive round the country and invite the 
 neighbours. The day was one of scrimmage, and 
 on my part, of great gloom — but it really went off 
 charmingly, and I am glad it took place, for it gave 
 gTeat pleasure, and Mr. Church is immensely pleased. 
 He says " the half had not been told him." The stage 
 was perfect. In fact I have always been longing to 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 251 
 
 do something on it, a raised dais at the foot of the 
 stairs. About ten guests came (in the dark, long 
 drives, up our winding wood road) and this with 
 ourselves and the servants, for whom a sort of gal- 
 lery behind a screen was arranged, made about thirty 
 for audience. Mrs. Warner played soft music as the 
 Old Lady came gliding down the stairway and ad- 
 vanced to the front. I had on my heliotrope plush 
 wrapper with a canary-coloured little crepe shawl 
 over it. Standing with a background of old idols 
 and armour, and two great bronze cranes, and tapes- 
 try, lighted by tall standing lamps hidden from the 
 audience, and raised four steps above their level, the 
 effect must have been perfect. I wore my own india 
 silk for 50; — and 25, Do^vnie squeezed me into her 
 ball-gown of white crepe, most becoming, a wide gap 
 in the laced-up-back was plastered o'er with a piece 
 of sash, and I had her white feather boa on my throat. 
 At 15, I wore bodily a gown of a small Twitchell 
 from Hartford, who came with the Warners. The 
 length and all was just right, only a few plaits had 
 to be let out at the breast. This, of course, brought 
 do%vn the house. Michael, the great big coachman, 
 brought in the Baby, to the great delight of the gal- 
 lery, who thought the whole performance the best 
 thing ever seen, (Miss Bolger will like to hear about 
 the "Elixir.") Leila and Do^^ruie were both very 
 nice. Leila hustled me off at the end and got me 
 into my own black net gown, to return to the com- 
 pany. Was n't that a time ! The Warners ( Charles 
 Dudley) were amusing. . . . She plays superbly, 
 and willingly, all the Dresel-Chopin things we used 
 to know by heart. They went off Monday early, and 
 with them Leila, Louis, Downie, and Mrs. Church, 
 the latter for two days' shopping in 'New York, back 
 last evening with Louis. So that Mr. Church and 
 I were left alone like Darby and Joan. It rained 
 
252 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 incessantly Tuesday, but he was most agreeable, and, 
 of course, I spent mucli time by myself. I have not 
 got over my thirst for sleep, and sometimes fall on 
 the bed morning and afternoon, at it again from nine 
 at night till seven. I take great walks daily, and feel 
 myself coming round. The trees are glowing and 
 hills soft and luscious. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 [Boston], Saturday, November 2^, 1890. 
 10 o'clock A. M. 
 
 Oh ! my anguish ! IN'ote when you get this : I am 
 about to take horse — electric — with the Stanleys 
 to see James Lowell at Elm wood. Farewell, if it 
 proves to be forever : — this p. m., Coolidge reception, 
 and then Tyndales at six. Funeral to-morrow, mine, 
 I mean — this is a jest. . . . 
 
 That was a stunning dinner at the Lorings'. Very- 
 select and very jolly, Helen Bell, — Mrs. Henry 
 Whitman! and — myself, also a certain Miss Put- 
 nam, pretty, who used to belong to my Charade Club. 
 I was taken out by Professor Japan Morse, and he 
 is delightful, sate next Mr. Goddard, who was at end 
 of table, opposite Gen. Loring, Mrs. Loring, middle 
 of side. The Fenelosas it was for. She is very 
 pretty, by the way of being beautiful, in fact, rather 
 conscious. Gay was there as a Japanese. 
 
 I have much funny things to tell you. Lost for- 
 ever if I don't survive this expedition into the heart 
 of Cambridge. 
 
 Yours, 
 Suse. 
 
MATUXUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 253 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 7 Sackville Street, London, Monday, 
 December 22, 1890. 
 DEAR LUCRETIA, — Worcls fail evGii me to convey 
 to you any idea of our surroundings. It is nearly 
 ten o'clock in our very luxurious lodgings ; it is so 
 dark, with a great yellow fog, that we have our lamp 
 and candles (very feeble ones, to be sure), and so 
 cold, in spite of fires in every room, that we are sit- 
 ting close up to the gi*ate \\dth our thickest wraps on, 
 and all wound about with the heaviest steamer rug! 
 So much for London in December. How you would 
 hate this darkness ! My dear ! Try to realise it. 
 When I came out into our parlour at nine for coffee 
 it was just like the middle of the night, with some 
 faint dimness of a distant dawn. The room is large, 
 great veils of blue fog always hang about it in rifts. 
 We see each other but vaguely across the thick air. 
 Nice little grates full of soft coals, constantly heaped 
 up (at our expense), but they smoke like the dickens. 
 Candles have a halo about them, iris-tinted. Our 
 lungs are all full of this thickness, and our noses of 
 the smell of smoke and coal. But this is a very ex- 
 ceptional season. When we arrived there were " nine 
 degrees of frost" as they say, meaning 23° Fahren- 
 heit ; this had n't occurred for nine years, there was 
 snow, and it began soon again. There is about an 
 inch of snow in the streets, and they are nearly wild 
 over it, great snow ploughs dra^vn by countless horses 
 and attended by brigades of men scrape the little 
 stuff into corners. It clogs the carrot-slice wheels 
 of the four-wheelers, and the drivers demand extra 
 fare. And awfully cold, inside, for they have no idea 
 how to warm houses. I keep thinking how you 
 would hate it. But to narrate ; my ! what seons seem 
 to have passed since my steamer-letter. Let me begin 
 
254 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 by saying we are always having a splendid time. 
 Susan is in good spirits, delighted even with misfor- 
 tune, as every traveller should be — I mean discom- 
 fort, for we have had no misfortunes whatever. We 
 laugh and plan and review our triumphs in the most 
 constantly jolly manner. She is very considerate and 
 unselfish, and very thoughtful of me in all possible 
 ways. 
 
 Well, Thursday, land was in sight, and we were 
 hawked out of our beds by " joddess," who wanted to 
 get through her work. " Ze baz ess redy," this per- 
 nicious creature announced when it was yet dark, 
 before seven o'clock ; and we were all dressed to leave 
 the ship, and things packed and strapped by eight. 
 Then came the most tedious hanging-round period. 
 We were off the Isle of Wight, and waiting for the 
 tender or something. It was eleven before- we were 
 off the steamer, and all that between time, standing 
 or sitting round in draughty passageways, twaddling 
 with the people who were going on to Bremen. Cold 
 as Greenland, and no means of getting warm. Then 
 we descended to the tug, a very respectable convey- 
 ance, but open-deck, and waving farewell to the 
 Saale, sate on a settee in rugs, chomping up to South- 
 hampton. Only a handful of fellow-creatures. . . . 
 
 Our protector was Linzee Tilden, Effie Bird's hus- 
 band; he saw us through the custom-house and into 
 the train at Southampton, a spot I am now pretty 
 familiar with. We had but time for a hasty sand- 
 wich, and some Scotch whisky before starting for 
 London in an ice-cold compartment where we could 
 see our breath. Hot-water things for feet were all ; 
 and the trip about two hours. Snow on the ground, 
 and skating as we passed small ponds. Luckily we 
 had all our rugs ; and had a very jolly ride of it with 
 first impressions of England. But just imagine not 
 warming a first-class railway carriage in Decem- 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORmA 255 
 
 ber! They don't think of it. But now the fun 
 begins. London! Waterloo! a four-wheeler, — 
 driving through the well-known streets, Piccadilly 
 to Sackville Street, a knocker on the door, great con- 
 fusion of departing boxes in the hall, and our boxes. 
 We were a day sooner than expected, but our rooms 
 soon ready, and we installed in our delightful quar- 
 ters. The house is just like 6 Hamilton Place in the 
 days before gas, water, furnace ; I keep thinking of 
 it all the time. We are up one flight, with a front 
 parlour on Sackville Street, three great windows, ab- 
 solutely useless, as they let in no light ; folding doors 
 open to my bedroom, and Susan's is just behind. 
 The bedrooms exactly as cold as Matunuck at this 
 season I — although each room has a constant fire in 
 the grate. But, of course, you know these fires don't 
 influence an inch away from themselves. I was soon 
 as you may suppose (about 4 p. m.) in the depths of 
 a four-poster mahogany bedstead with a flight of 
 steps leading up to it, soft depths of feather bed, but 
 warm. Jane, the delightful maid, flitted about pok- 
 ing the fire. I saw her through veils of blue smoke ; 
 she brought 'ot water and more towels. I slept till 
 nearly seven, then hastily jumped into my tea-gown 
 and came forth to receive Mr. Tilden, whom we had 
 invited to dinner. Our parlour was all right now 
 with fire, a lamp, and plenty candles. It is large 
 and the farther, or Greenland, end is the dining- 
 room, where we now had a cosy little dinner, ordered 
 by us, and served by Jean, a sweet French gargon, 
 very devoted; but soon leaving the table to nestle up 
 to the fire for coffee and Tilden's cigar. He bade us 
 farewell when he went, — off for the Sunny South 
 the next day. Now that was the whole of Thursday. 
 Friday, came Stevens the devoted, very burly and 
 nice, and full of plans, Susan and he mutually 
 pleased. You must know that I had got a horrid 
 
256 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 cold and sore throat in the climate just described. 
 It began by being too warm in bed on tlie steamer, 
 and the exposure of Thursday did n't better it ; so 
 I got Stevens to take me in a cab to see Dr. Benjamin 
 Waed Richardson, whom he recommended as some- 
 thing of a professional light. It was well as a study 
 of the English method of doing these things. We 
 drove to Manchester Square, sent in names and waited 
 a long time in a huge room on the loAver floor, where 
 a great table was laid out with every possible period- 
 ical like the reading-room of a library. At last we 
 were shown across the entry to the great man's library 
 where he sate at a ^vriting-table in the middle of the 
 room, with a horrid lamp. They have no idea here 
 of the Rochester Burner or anything bright, only 
 " Duj)lex," and dim at that ; the gTound-glass shades 
 seem thicker than ours. This was high noon, you 
 know. He is a very chatty, affable man, knew all 
 about " Edward Everett Hale," prattled of America, 
 as he wTote the prescriptions. He fetched a reflector 
 and lashed it to his forehead, and then by the dim 
 light of this lamp went dowm and explored my throat. 
 But, lor! his appliances were antidiluvian compared 
 with those of Vincent Bowditch and dear Dr. Bangs, 
 who have gas jets for lighting any part of the human 
 frame within. He searched about amongst my ton- 
 sils, then exclaimed, " I have it, I see it, it is not 
 at all dangerous," and taking his head out of my 
 mouth he ran to A\Tite prescriptions. . . . He would 
 like to come to America and lecture, and he told me 
 the titles of six lectures, about the " Morals of 
 People's Insides," as you might say, but " Hatha- 
 way," that's the lecture agent that Amelia B. had, 
 told him the subject wouldn't interest Americans. 
 I think they would, and this gave me a chance to air 
 my views on the foolishness of employing Hathaway. 
 Moreover, he showed us a " Statement " from D. Ap- 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORJ^IA 257 
 
 pleton and Company, with whom he has dealings, 
 which he has had a year and never could make out. 
 I know 'em well, those " statements," and pointed out 
 to him that it showed due to him $102.95 which he 
 could get for asking. We further turned this sum 
 into pounds for him to understand, then laid my two 
 guineas on his desk and departed. Stevens remarked 
 he thought of saying that our charge for information 
 was also two guineas, but we didn't. We stopped 
 to order a sprayer for my throat ; and in due time all 
 my drugs came home from "■ the stores " where 
 Stevens ordered them. Let me hasten to say that 
 they have cured me finely, and that I am all well now, 
 really, so you must not worry at all. It was just one 
 of my throats, and the remedies were excellent. Sev- 
 eral things in the cure I think highly of, viz. : he 
 told me to stay in three days and that I should be 
 well in three days, and all the drugs were apportioned 
 in doses for three days, now they are all used up, and 
 I am well, and there's no further question about 
 going on with them, because there ain't any more 
 stuff, it 's only to throw away the empty bottles. . . . 
 It 's quite a wonderful cure, but you know I am great 
 on recuperation. So that's all that. . . . 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Ajaccio, la Corse, January 31, 1891. 
 DEAR LUC, — We are certainly having the best fun 
 any two Susans ever devised. Perhaps you didn't 
 know we were coming here ; in fact, I believe I have 
 never mentioned any plan or change of plan, so may 
 as well say here, that little Susan on the Atlantic 
 voyage found out she did n't want to settle down in 
 Florence for the mnter, which was the parents' plan ; 
 so we decided for Sicily and the top of Africa, to 
 
258 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 my great content. As all the Continent is fiendish 
 cold, we did wisely, for it is very cheerless all over, 
 so that seeking warmth alone would have driven us 
 forth. Then I found one day that we could get to 
 Palermo this way, and here Ave are. I have always 
 been longing to see Corsica. I wrote from Cannes 
 to the British Consul here, there is no American one 
 (see Baedeker), to ask him if it were safe, and he 
 wrote back a very nice note saying there were no 
 bandits these twenty years, and theft and robberies 
 unknown, — also recommending this hotel. So off 
 we came, though Goddards and Legays shrugged 
 their heads and wagged their shoulders and said, 
 " There was nothing to see in Ajaccio, which was all 
 there was in Corsica." . . . 
 
 Having packed and said farewell, on Wednesday 
 (28th January), we started after coffee in a two- 
 horse open carriage, all our malles strapped on be- 
 fore and behind, and us sitting in a nest in the midst 
 of them. Proprietor Neef hurried from the market 
 to press flowers in our hands, hyacinths, violets, roses, 
 pinks and mimosa, and off we went trot-trot for ISTice, 
 three hours along the Corniche, although it don't 
 much begin to be called so till the other side Monte 
 Carlo. (These places I knew before on account of 
 the yacht, and Susan spent a summer at Mentone 
 when she was seven. ) I must be brief about all this ; 
 the drive was lovely, we approached Nice, the curved 
 shore all built with glaring white houses, and saw no 
 ships, no vapeurs, no wharf, concluded we should have 
 to give it up. But by driving on discovered at the 
 end of the town the port let in at a slit as it were, 
 and all the shipping thus concealed from the Prome- 
 nade Anglais where Fashion walks abroad, as with 
 us at Cannes on " la Plage." We hated Mce, I al- 
 ways did, great big staring town, chock full of Ameri- 
 cans ; but we lunched at the Zenith of Swealth, called 
 
MATUl^UCK, EUKOPE, CALIFOKNIA 259 
 
 " London House," whicli Welds and I frequented. 
 We had a delicious lunch (it cost six dollars, without 
 eating much, but there were waiters with buttons and 
 without, a chef and a Tiger, and music, which was 
 extra), while gaudily hatted girls at other tables pro- 
 claimed their birth by shrieking through the nose, 
 and a young man astonished us by his moustache 
 actually curled in ringlets. To fill up the time we 
 drove after lunch to Villefranche, where the yacht 
 used to lie, then at four-thirty betook ourselves to 
 the Quai Lunel where vapeur Perseverant was lying 
 bound for Bastia. Papa and ISTelly will know the 
 kind of ship, from Spanish trips, and you, my dear, 
 going to Brindisi, only this was smaller than most. 
 We had the ladies' cabin, along with a young Corsi- 
 can lady travelling with her uncle, a priest. She was 
 sick all night, and told us her history, like the 
 Princess Cynecia, in the morning. It was after sun- 
 set as we steamed out of the slit, and saw the gay 
 lights of Monte Carlo afar off. We dined on board, 
 oh, such fun, with the captain, and four, no, five, 
 men ; we all began to talk like brothers ; this is Cor- 
 sican manners and most agreeable. They all speak 
 French, though they prefer a jargon of Genoese and 
 Phoenician; they are most polite and courtly to us, 
 and seem to love each other, but they are violent, just 
 as in books ; they fly in a rage, contradict, almost stab 
 each other over the simple question, what time it is ; 
 calm down again in a minute. (Once in an omnibus 
 going from station to hotel they all got telling us 
 about Ajaccio. One mentioned (as it were) Wash- 
 ington Street, another Boylston Street ; all yelling at 
 the top of their lungs; one said (unluckily) that was 
 all the streets, the others fell on him and reviled him 
 for saying that was all ; in the midst a lady shrieked, 
 " You 've forgotten Beacon Street ! " This calmed 
 them for a moment, and there was utter silence. Then 
 
260 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I changed the conversation by asking if there was 
 snow in Corsica, and they began again. We were 
 scared at first, but soon found they meant welh Just 
 exactly like boiled milk (my favourite simile), up 
 and down again in a minute. This happened in 
 Corte, — I now go back to the boat.) After dinner 
 the captain, and a blond Ave most unjustly call the 
 " Turk," were very gallant and took us up on the 
 passerelle (captain's bridge), where we prattled with 
 them till the moon rose — then to bed, and slept well. 
 At six, we reached Bastia^ this was Thursday 29, and 
 saw the sunrise while our malles were pulled up from 
 the hold. Our effects and those of the Turk were all 
 put on a charrette by a nice woman, who afterwards 
 dragged the whole thing, with some aid from a boy, 
 across the toA\Ti to the gave. He did the most of the 
 real pulling, but she often did. There we got coffee, 
 had an awful panic about Susan's valise, which was 
 missing, we feared stolen, the chef de la gare and 
 all Bastia got interested, all polite, gentlemenly, de- 
 voted. It turned up to our immense relief. It had 
 got mixed up with the Turk's things, and was taken 
 to his hotel. As soon as he saw it, he sent the boy 
 back with it to us ; then dressed (he was in his bath), 
 and flew himself to the station to make sure we had 
 it; it spoils this story to cut it short; we were objects 
 of greatest interest, and recommended by the chef 
 all along the line in consequence. He assured us 
 from the first it was n't stolen. Thefts never take 
 place in Corsica ; all the whole corps dramatique 
 (for it is all just like the stage here) shook hands 
 with us heartily when it turned up. And so off for 
 Corte. 
 
 Now you must know there is a railroad over the 
 island from Bastia to Ajaccio, only it is not done. 
 We knew this; there's a bit of diligence in the 
 middle ; but we were aghast, on the boat, when they 
 
MATU:N^UCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 261 
 
 all informed us that so much snow was on the moun- 
 tains nothing had come through for days ! Snow 
 don't surprise you in January, but we were used to 
 roses and sunshine for a week or two. Still we 
 ]3ushed on to Corte (you 'd better get a map and see 
 how it is), for the Turk told us Hotel Paoli was 
 good. And there we arrived in time for lunch, at a 
 funny hotel, in a strange old town sliding down a 
 precipice, with a citadel built by Spanish viceroys 
 (1440) — home of Paoli, last stronghold of his re- 
 bellion, etc. (I move out of the sun which is too 
 hot.) Most picturesque place. Our two rooms 
 opened out of a dark banqueting hall with a huge 
 fireplace in it, roots of Salvator Rosa's trees burning 
 there. Bare floors, but comfortable beds. The gar- 
 Qon (who was one of the squabblers in the bus just 
 described) stopped between passing plates, to explain 
 " la vendeUa.'^ He says it is amongst their moeurs, 
 and means that they se tuent en famille on occasion, 
 but never strangers. This was reassuring. Indeed 
 they are sweet folks, not at all alarming. A most 
 imposing old chief of the poste, like Oliver Peabody, 
 arranged for our Friday morning caleche, which 
 brought us through to the railroad. It was a grand 
 drive through a difficult pass up over high mountains, 
 like Via Mala, any of those, plenty snow, — but cork, 
 pine, laurels all green, and shrubs almost in blossom, 
 wild, grand, like Pyrenees. We lunched at Vivario, 
 and w^atched the villagers strolling up and down ; the 
 men are very handsome, and their top-boots (not 
 india-rubber) redeem the deplorable, modern, long 
 trousers. The women do all the work, brought down 
 our trunks on their heads ! The R. R. gare at Viz- 
 zuona is a mere temporary stopping-place in the 
 woods; all the last hour we were driving through 
 deep snow-cuts; we passed a ruined shanty for the 
 R. R. workmen which had lately been wrecked by 
 
262 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 an avalanche. It was cold at the gave, two hours to 
 wait ; we went into a small restaurant and had coffee 
 in front of another huge fireplace. Two friendly 
 men sate with us, while thej warmed a sausage in 
 the flames, put it on hunks of bread, and ate it with 
 their jack-knives, which they called " coUelles^' (cross 
 between French and Italian) . They offered us some, — 
 but we had lunched. Then from 4 to 7 p. m. in R. R. 
 a "salon" car which held eight of us, one Madame 
 Marchi, of Ajaccio, who is very friendly. We all 
 prattled all the way. A caUcJie brought us to this 
 charming, clean, luxurious hotel — a balcony opens 
 on a close-at-hand view, of sea, mountain, and sky. 
 It was dark. " What is that opposite ? " we asked. 
 " It is the garden of the British Consul." Continued 
 in my next. 
 
 Yrs., 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lt:ceetia P. Hale 
 
 Palermo, February 23, 1891. 
 Monday, 8 :30 a. m. 
 DEAR LUC, — I must scizc the early morning joy- 
 fulness to begin you this letter. It is warm! The 
 sun which I saw rise, from my bed, a little while 
 ago, is slanting over my balcony, and acting like a 
 stove. All the Mediterranee is before me, — Monte 
 Pellegrino, looking like Gibraltar, on the left, and 
 a more remote headland on the right. Below, an 
 esplanade, broad driveway, and stone parapet run- 
 ning round the sea. This is " la Marina," the fashion- 
 able parade of the Palermitans, but until this mo- 
 ment it has been so dashed and washed and blown 
 and snowed upon as to be deserted. You see we have 
 changed our rooms to the sea-front, and are very 
 happy. I can't help feeling that the sun rises in the 
 west, I am all turned round, for the exposure seems 
 
MATU^UCK, EUROPE, CALIFORT^IA 263 
 
 just like Ajaccio and Cannes (also Matimuck), where 
 the sun rises on our left, but here in this north-facing 
 harbour, it comes up on my right. No consequence 
 s'long as it is so nice and warming. 
 
 Yesterday I had yours of February 8 (just a fort- 
 night coming) in which you had two from me. . . . 
 We enjoy your mystification about Ajaccio, all the 
 Day persuasion were in similar fog, but, my dear, 
 you ought to have remembered that Bonaparte was 
 born there I Cagliari I should n't expect anyone to 
 know about. . . . 
 
 When I leave here, I 'm going to mail you a charm- 
 ing book about Sicily in Italian, I think you will like 
 to have it read to you, skippingly. It is by one 
 Schuregaus, German, but I read the Italian transla- 
 tion here, for practice in the right tongue. See if 
 old "Schondorff " has got "Une Gageure," by Gherbu- 
 liez, 1889 ; it is a really charming, a very clever novel, 
 of course, French in its treatment of love. . . . 
 • I wrote a fat letter to Comm. Adv. yesterday, 
 Wo. VI. It will be terrible if they don't print them ! 
 It described our trip Friday to Segesta and Seli- 
 monte. All the week has been charming, though 
 cold, windy, bad weather, but we did something al- 
 most every day. The sights of Palermo are all good, 
 and not fatiguing. Tuesday we spent up at Monreale 
 where are the beautiful mosaics, time of ISTormans, 
 church all lined with them, charming old cloister of 
 Moorish columns, like Spain, dreamy garden over- 
 looking the lovely plain of Palermo, called Conca 
 de Oro, and literally gold with oranges on the trees. 
 
 Wednesday, we drove p. m. to La Favorita, ugly 
 Chinese villa built by the Bourbon, Ferdinand I of 
 two Sicilies, time of French Revolution. I 've got 
 a delicious sort of Saint Simon gossipy book about 
 these Spanish Bourbons by the old Dumas, but in 
 Italian ! It is rich, all about ISTelson, Emma Hamil- 
 
264 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 ton, Acton, etc., etc. Do you know about sncli 
 things ? 
 
 Meanwhile we were getting friendly with the 
 Smiths, and we all agreed to do the Segesta-Selimonte 
 trip together. It took two days, from 3 a. m. ! 
 Eriday to ten Saturday night, during which time we 
 became very intime, and like each other much. Mrs. 
 Smith is a handsome woman of fifty-nine. They are 
 Quakers and "thee" each other, the mother and 
 daughter, who is a regular charmer, twenty-four. . . . 
 They have come all to adore me, and our two girls 
 have struck quite a friendship. They live in Lon- 
 don, because the other daughter has married Cos- 
 tello, M. P., and a Catholic ! — and Pa Smith has 
 bought an estate there, and there 's a son. But Alice 
 has been over at Bryn Mawr, and is going later to 
 Girton to study. . . . 
 
 . . . The crucial moment of the trip was on Friday 
 about noon, when we came to a swollen stream, on 
 foot, with no visible means of crossing. I gave the 
 example of mounting a pack-horse which came along 
 led by native Sicilians, by means of a man's loiee 
 and a rope-stirrup. There was great applause as I 
 rode across the torrent, straddle on a high pack- 
 saddle, the man behind me, also, on the same horse, 
 driving him by a rope at the mouth of the beast 
 passed across me to him behind. Then Mrs. Smith, 
 who is more cumbrous even than I am, though full 
 of pluck, was shoved and pushed up on the same ani- 
 mal, which returned with her. Susan scrambled on 
 top of* a donkey and drove him over herself with great 
 prowess, while Miss Smith, and Lozer, found a place 
 they got over by means of a fallen tree and crawling 
 on stomachs. This caused great jollity, and I have 
 made a picture of Mrs. Smith mounting, which she 
 will send oif to America in a " circular letter " all her 
 friends will see. I wonder if the ripple of it will 
 
MATUKUCK, EUKOPE, CALIFOROTA 265 
 
 reach us again, she is Philadelphia, you know, so it 
 may! Those Greek ruins are intensely interesting. 
 You know I was in fevers to do all this with the yacht, 
 but the Welds didn't care to. Now I am satisfied, 
 and well repaid. The country is bare, but the shore 
 always beautiful, only cold, my dear, as Greenland 
 still, and snomng at Segesta. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SUSE. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matujstuck, Rhode Island, June 15j 1891. 
 
 . . . Why didn't you stop at Kingston? Do it 
 the next time. Just ask great big stationmaster 
 Taber — he will beetle down over you like an over- 
 hanging crag or Phillips Brooks — to send you over 
 to Miss Susy's. This is not a 
 house, but your Vouillet trunk. 
 
 Charlotte Hedge is here, and 
 very delightful. We talk of old 
 days and old Brookliners, and 
 laugh over their romances and 
 finales, and, strange to say, 
 seem to think we are about as 
 well off in body, mind, and es- 
 tate as the others of our con- 
 temporaries. She is greatly 
 troubled by people being dead without her knowing 
 it, which she considers a rudeness on their part. I 
 have therefore suggested leaving Lizzie Fisher (Mrs. 
 P. Everett) one hundred dollars in my will to send 
 my P. P. C. cards all round after my demise. Good 
 plan? 
 
 Annie Bursley sends her regards to you and wishes 
 you might come over to see us and the laurel while 
 she is here. The laurel, by the way, is about to be 
 
266 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 glorious, just coming out like pop-corn in genial 
 ^varmth. 
 
 My Robert is coming do'^m Saturday, and, oh ! my 
 dear Edward, Jr., who you should remember has 
 just returned, full of meat and absolutely delightful, 
 talking philology anid nonsense with equal fluency. 
 He is enraptured to be at home after the seriousness 
 of Germany. But I must be where ? Kitchen or 
 garret ? Each calls. (There is really nothing for din- 
 ner to-day, unless a miracle brings a steak from 
 Wakefield. The fish-man passed me coldly by, and 
 we ate up the leavings of yesterday, for breakfast. 
 I have n't told these dames, my guests, and still hope 
 something will turn up.) 
 
 Yours, 
 Susy. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Santa Baebara, California, 
 February 23, 1892. 
 
 DEAREST CAROLINE, — You are a daisy! Your 
 valentine came yesterday, and I will respond with 
 this Little Hatchet. This joke, of course, refers to 
 G. Washington, on whose birthday yours arrived. I 
 have no letters to speak of, so yours was like water 
 in the wilderness. . . . 
 
 Now about me, I am equally horrid about writing, 
 for there is no time to do it. I have thought you a 
 million letters, but until Edison invents a morning 
 pillow which receives and transmits the early idea, 
 I shall never be a good correspondent. Lots to tell 
 you. Don't know where to begin. The Hales have 
 reams of annals, for I write them constantly. I 've 
 just got through the San Erancisco campaign. A 
 month there very well managed by some friends of 
 Nelly's, who took me on her account and cherished 
 me on my own. Great " social success." Same " Old 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 267 
 
 Readings," new here, of course, where they never 
 before heard of Sir Charles Grandison. I had three 
 sets of readings and took in six hundred and fifty 
 dollars. So you see I did n't come to ruin, as I feared 
 when I left you. . . . They pay here in delightful 
 round gold pieces, all shiny and fat. I love to play 
 with them and part from them with anguish, which 
 makes me a sort of miser. Still I always have a little 
 bag full about me, and there 's prospect of more. 
 Well, I was nearly killed by kindness in San F. . . . 
 San Francisco has excellent shops. I bought some 
 feather trimming to put around myself with good 
 effect, — and have done wonders in the varied scenery 
 and decorations of an old bonnet, in addition to my 
 good one. Six pairs of Paris gloves did the rest, and 
 I 'm told they liked my feet. You will forgive these 
 extreme details, being the only person besides myself 
 who takes any interest in my personal adornment. . . . 
 Well I wallowed in a sea of Unitarians, Presby- 
 tarians, Episcopals, Baptists, infidels. My chief joy 
 was hawking about in cable-cars, the greatest fun in 
 the world, and having California oysters at the ex- 
 cellent restaurant of the " Palace." Such was San 
 Francisco. I escaped from it with my life, and 
 after an interval of repose at charming Monterey, 
 the Del Monte Hotel, where they have a glorious 
 seventeen-mile drive by the Pacific, I returned to 
 this spot. Santa Barbara is the most peaceful, placid 
 little hole in the earth's surface. It is very beauti- 
 ful, no doubt, but cocky! Lord, if you hint that 
 the historic interests of Sicily are perhaps more 
 ancient than the post-office here, they go to moult 
 in a corner. 'T is the valley of Rasselas, and those 
 who are really here never get out, and don't want to 
 get out. . . . The climate is perfect. By the way, 
 you have been here. That 's a mercy, for you know 
 how it looks, and I need n't go on telling you. 
 
268 LETTEES OF SUSA^t hALE 
 
 And here are charming people. . . . Anna Blake 
 looking well and handsome. It is an enchanting 
 place, and I am possessed all the time I am here with 
 a longing to be somewhere else. 
 
 Now we are going elsewhere, immediately, to Los 
 Angeles, to Pasadena, to San Diego, where the dear 
 Nordhoffs are, and then I make my way to tlie north, 
 and climb along to Portland, Tacoma, etc., and home 
 by the Canadian Pacific, which is said to be the most 
 beautiful of all the routes. I have abandoned my 
 nephew's wedding, which is for April 5. It makes 
 me sick to do this, especially as I am just now wild 
 to cut the whole thing and go home, — but this would 
 be foolish, for they have arranged for me to make a 
 pot of money at Los Angeles, and I 'd better do this 
 region up thoroughly while I am here. I shall give 
 March to southern California, be in San F, again 
 early in April, for one or two winding-up things, 
 then off and home before, or on, May 1. . . . 
 
 YouK LOVING Susy. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 San Francisco, April 3, 1892. 
 . . . Since this letter I have yours about Aunt J.'s 
 legacy. I have already laid it out in countless ways, 
 in my mind, — my ruling idea is to put it in my 
 bank and keep spending the whole of it. I mean 
 whenever I want one hundred dollars for any frivo- 
 lous or philanthropic purpose, I shall just say, " 1 '11 
 do that with Aunt Jane's legacy." There probably 
 will always be one hundred dollars there, and I can 
 always thus call it, so keeping her memory green. 
 Don't this strike you as a good investment? Better 
 than ten per cent. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
MATUNUCK, EUKOPE, CALIFORNIA 269 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Just beyond Buffalo, Thursday, April '28, 1892. 
 (Time the same as yours.) 
 
 DEAR LUC, — While I was breakfasting, they 
 changed to eastern time, and my watch is now right ! 
 You know I have kept it at Boston time, and com- 
 puted the difference, but now, lo and behold, nine 
 meant nine. I should have kissed it, but for the 
 public position, in a dining-car. To-night I reach 
 New York, and a steady bed, at Nelly Blodgett's, 
 24 West 12th Street. So now, why not wind up 
 these memoirs, especially as I want to tell you about 
 a beast there was in Chicago, — but this train is 
 fearful wobbly, as it is the famous limited, and we 
 are going lickity-split. . . . 
 
 Tuesday, it became clear we should miss our trains 
 to connect with Chicago. Thus I had the day to 
 spend in St. Paul, — and what 's more, four dollars 
 more for a sleeper that night. This was not the 
 Canadian Pacific's fault, but the 8t. Paul-Chicago 
 R. R.'s, for changing their time since my ticket 
 was issued. I was not loathe to see St. Paul and 
 after writing Parber and Nelly, I sallied forth into 
 a great big town which seemed like London after 
 the crudeness of the Pacific coast. Brick houses ! — 
 real side-walks (instead of wood planking). Carts 
 in the crooked streets ! Omnibuses ! cabs ! There 
 are cables, and electrics, but these haven't entirely 
 driven out the horse, as on the Pacific slope. I 
 mounted a cable, took a transfer, and went some one 
 hundred miles or so out into the suburbs. It must 
 be very pretty in the spring and summer. Great 
 Mississippi rolling through the towTi, and overhung 
 by pretty houses on cliffs. The fashion of the suburbs 
 took my car, on return, to do their shopping. A 
 young girl had Epigcea stuck in her waist, and had 
 
270 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 given some to her young man for his button-hole. 
 " x^o, they don't grow here, they were sent me from 
 Wisconsin," she replied to my question. I thought 
 she might have given me one, but she didn't. She 
 had a practice of running her tongue out to catch 
 her little spotted veil, and sucking it, but no chewing- 
 gum. This trip would n't last but an hour, — still it 
 was about time to lunch, so I found McVeigh's, de- 
 scribed as the swell place, by a porter at the station. 
 Here I found that if I ordered pot-pie, — they would 
 throw in bread and butter, coffee, and a piece of any 
 other kind of pie I chose, all for 25 cents. This is 
 the only cheap lunch I have had since leaving home. 
 I would then have strolled about, for the shop win- 
 dows were large and interesting, but it was pouring 
 and blowing great guns. My umbrella was turned 
 wrong-side out, and my only feet were getting wet, 
 so I beat a retreat to the station — two o'clock and 
 nothing but to wait till seven-thirty ! Five and one- 
 half hours, — in all from 7:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., 
 twelve hours, — in the Ladies' Waiting Room, that 
 fascinating retreat! I must say that Union Station 
 at St. Paul is the best managed I ever saw. To be 
 sure I never stayed so long in any other. It swarmed 
 with emigrants the whole time, coming and depart- 
 ing, eating oranges and bananas and thro-wing the 
 skins on the floor; a quiet woman, mistress of cere- 
 monies, answers their questions, and an excellent 
 coloured porter swept the place every fifteen minutes 
 or so. I bought a rotten novel, at the stall, and read 
 it all, took several strolls, washed my hands often, 
 ate an orange. Oh, my dear ! Oranges are delicious 
 since leaving California, I think they must be Flori- 
 das, — large, sweet, ^^'ith a delightful odour. The 
 California oranges have no smell nor taste. But I 
 really got rattled from sheer fatigue, sitting on a 
 hard settee, in my bonnet so consecutively, with the 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 271 
 
 din and roar of trains without, scuffle of feet within 
 (it was like a ball-room for changing movement) 
 and the call of the man, " Cars ready for Rabble- 
 gabble- jabble-habble, change for Mississippy-nippy 
 b-b-by;" a dusky porter loved me, and at last came 
 and brought me to the gate, and by and by I was let 
 through to my train. 
 
 This was a delicious "Manns Boudoir" and why 
 on earth they don't always have 'em I can't make out, 
 but I'm told they are not popular! A whole little 
 room like a stateroom to myself, nice sofa which 
 becomes bed, with door to shut myself in, plenty 
 room for box (the Angel), and nice hooks for hang- 
 ups. Here I passed a blissful night, but bones aching 
 with the constraint of hard, bolt-upright sitting all 
 day. So in the morning at nine-thirty on 
 
 Thursday we came to Chicago, and here a day to 
 waste, as my train on my ticket was 5 : 30 p. m. 
 Now mark the contretemps of this day, I had to go 
 to get my sleeper (telegraphed, but not paid for, 
 from San Francisco) to a place called 6Q Clark 
 Street. When I came out, after fixing that all right, 
 it was pouring, with thunder and lightning, a phe- 
 nomenon they don't have in California, so I was 
 pleased to see it. But the streets began to run rivers, 
 and I had on my tan, thin shoes (another pair in 
 the Angel). I took a hansom (25 cents), got 
 back to the station, ransomed the Angel from the 
 parcels room (10 cents) took it in a cab (50 cents) 
 to the Palmer House, ordered a room with bath- 
 room ($2), bought some newspapers, 10 cents, and 
 retired to a delightful wallow in bath-tub, and bed. 
 At one, refitted, I came do^\m to the restaurant and 
 had a really civilised lunch, $1.50, well served. 
 If St. Paul had appeared like London, Chicago 
 seemed Paris, New York, Vienna, rolled into one, 
 so cosmopolitan. The Palmer is a fine hotel, swarms 
 
272 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 of people coming and going, the service of porters 
 and everybody prompt and perfect. Cab with Angel 
 back to station, 25 cents. It was now cleared up, 
 and blazing hot, sultry, oppressive, with a howling 
 sirocco that filled the air with dust and brickbats. 
 I started to call on the ; I did n't in the morn- 
 ing on acc't of the rain. Glad now I didn't, for 
 observe the sequence. I arrived at the familiar house, 
 where you know I feel very much at home, the door 
 was open, so I walked in as I rang, a servant came, 
 
 I turned into the parlour, saying, " Is Mrs. at 
 
 home?" "No, she is not," said a young person 
 about twenty-five, scarcely rising from her chair, 
 treating me exactly as if I were a book agent. " I 'm 
 sorry for that," said I, "I am Miss Susan Hale, a 
 friend of hers from the East." " Is that so ? " she 
 said, leaning back in her chair again. I sate do^vn 
 
 on a hard little settee. "Is Mrs. away?" 
 
 "Yes, she is at a rest-cure." "Oh, — has she been 
 ill?" I asked. "No — but she thought she would 
 go for a time to rest," etc. With a corkscrew I 
 
 elicited that Dr. was also out. "Excuse my 
 
 holding my handkerchief in this way," said I, " I 
 have a large paving-stone in my eye, it 's very dusty." 
 " Is that so ? " said she. " Yes, I 've been travelling 
 for ten days from California and this is my first 
 sight of a friendly house." "Indeed?" She then 
 slowly rose from her very comfortable lounging chair. 
 "Won't you take my seat? You may be tired." 
 " Thank you," I said, accepting it, " it is a good 
 while since I have seen a comfortable chair." My 
 rage was now getting better of my affections, and I 
 soon rose to go, — she made no effort to detain me. 
 
 " Tell Dr. I am sorry to miss him ; Miss Susan 
 
 Hale, tell him, please." " Oh, yes, I know who you 
 are," she said, "good morning," and before I was 
 out of the house, she was back in the good chair 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 273 
 
 with her book. Did you ever ! There was more, as 
 I have abridged this, but all to the same purpose. I 
 cried a little when I found myself alone, from rage 
 and sheer fatigue. Did you ever know such brutal 
 treatment, a dog who had been so long travelling 
 would have deserved more kindness. I just hope 
 
 that when Dr. came in he was wild with rage. 
 
 She never dreamed of asking me what station I was 
 at, or when my train was going. While I was sit- 
 ting there a transfer cart drove up with a trunk, she 
 and the maid much surprised. She glanced at me 
 suspiciously ; " Oh, it 's not my trunks," said I 
 sharply, " they have gone on to New York before 
 nie." Now did you ever, — who can she be? Some 
 
 young relative they have taken on in Mrs. 's 
 
 absence. I went back into the hideous streets, such 
 a sirocco was blowing that people hid themselves in 
 doorways, or I should have gone to the Art Institute 
 to hunt up my dear French, Daniel's brother, the 
 curator there, but instead threw myself into a car 
 and went back to the station; had been gone just 
 
 half an hour ! Won't the be mad, if indeed the 
 
 girl tells them ! And now it was three-thirty, and 
 two hours to wait for my train again. My very soul 
 loathed the " Ladies' Waiting Room," which was 
 worse than the other, the day was so hot that it 
 smelled perspiration of emigrant women-ish. But I 
 bought " David Grieve," which is long, at any rate, 
 and sate myself down with an orange again. Here, 
 too, I had a loving porter, Number 9, who took com- 
 passion, and got me and my box into my sleeper at 
 five, though the train didn't go till five-thirty. So 
 since then I was happy, for this is a luscious train, 
 with princely dining-car; it is fearfully hot, though, 
 the thermometer was 74° yesterday, they say. Had 
 a bath at 5 a. m. in the barber's shop. \^Tienever T 
 think of that girl I am in a new rage. She didn't 
 
274 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 mean anything, or course ; but how insolent she 
 was. ... So till we meet. . . . Cast down but still 
 fuming. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucketia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 September 15, 1892. 
 
 DEAE LUCRETiA, — ... 'Eow to my adveutures. 
 I might just as well have the account engraved for 
 yearly use, for history so repeats itself. Yesterday 
 was the day of the Fair, when all Matimuck is ut- 
 terly abandoned, and not a thing can be got or done 
 from anybody, — and also as usual it poured guns and 
 blew blazes, the regular *' Line Storm." The storm 
 began night before in howling wind which rattled 
 and shook the house. Beamish was out with his lame 
 foot (which is better), so I was absolutely alone in 
 the house. About midnight began the fateful tunk- 
 tunk of the ram (although I had charged 'Lisha to 
 watch it). Absolutely nothing to do, for if I had 
 gone down to Browning's in the howling blast, no- 
 body there who knew anything, and I feared to rouse 
 poor Gerald, whose gallantry would have driven him 
 forth. So I just stayed in bed, trying to persuade 
 myself it was no worse than a sleeping-car or the 
 St. Paul R. R. station; — of course I slept off and 
 on, but great gusts of mnd would wake me up, and 
 then the ram prevent my going to sleep again. 
 
 With the first, grim glimpse of a stormy dawn I 
 began to walk the house, and looking about for Beam- 
 ish I descried the grey boss bringing Pa and Tom 
 Browning swiftly along the road. I ran to Nelly's 
 window, opened it and yelled, '' Mister Browning ! " 
 A fierce sleet of fine, slanting rain had just begun 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 2T5 
 
 driving into their faces and mine. Tom, who con- 
 ceived me to be a ghost, with streaming hair, in my 
 night gown at that imseemlj hour, flew up the bank. 
 I yelled, " the ram, Tom, the ram ! " and pointed 
 towards the field, " Do yer want me ter stop it ? " 
 " Yaas ! " I cried, and he leaped over fences like one 
 mad, while Pa Browning " continnered " the hoss 
 down to their bam. Before I had got rubbed dry, 
 changed my night gowia. and back to bed, the darned 
 thing had stopped, and all was still. Oh ! the relief. 
 But now shortly Albert, Louise, and Lily came upon 
 the scene for the usual overture upon the kitchen- 
 stove, with wind and stringed instruments, accom- 
 panied by the kerosene can. Beamish came home, 
 dry as a bone. I conceived the idea of a breakfast 
 in bed, and accordingly Louise sent up a neat tray 
 with everything delicious on it. White meat of 
 chicken, a la maitre dliotel, johnny cake, fried 
 potato, and coffee with the best cream. I enjoyed 
 it leisurely, snoozed, read a French novel, snoozed 
 again. Then slowly rose for my bath, dressed, 
 dawdling, and came doA\Ti. It was five minutes past 
 eight o'clock ! 
 
 Well, the storm increased as day went on, and by 
 noon was a regular tearer; the place deserted by 
 unlucky Fair-goers, no kerosene in the house, nobody 
 to get it. Gerald came up quite wild because aban- 
 doned of men, with no vegetables nor nothing. When 
 the mail-man came he had no mail ! A letter I gave 
 him blew away, and I had to run round the house 
 for it. Nothing alive but millions of flies from the 
 Pier, which infest everything. They have cleaned the 
 stick-stuff off my stamps. I took Gerald down cellar 
 to see what could be found, and gave him four ears 
 of corn and a cucumber, leaving three ears for my- 
 self, and two tomatoes. The day wore on, an excel- 
 lent dinner, but I became so dog-sleepy that I con- 
 
276 LETTEKS OF SUSA]^ HALE 
 
 eluded to go to bed at five ! Louise is dretf ul lame 
 with her rheumatiz, so I invited her to spend the 
 night in your room! Lily ran down in my water- 
 proof to get their night gowns and tell their family. 
 Swam back, and by dark, which set in early, the house 
 was absolutely still. We all slept like tops, Beamish 
 on my bed, and, lo ! the sun rose brilliant this morn- 
 ing, and 'tis a glorious day. All Matunuck astir. 
 Cart with the piano-case up here before breakfast, 
 Thomas J.'s boy with the goose. To be sure they are 
 all off again to the Fair, but anxious to keep us alive 
 before starting. I felt fresh and hungry. Louise 
 slept finely, and is on her legs again, Lily one great 
 stare, dazed with the luxury of your apartment, un- 
 wonted indeed. . . . 
 
 SusE. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Wagner Vestibuled Train, 
 New York and Chicago Limited, 
 N^EW York Central 
 
 AND 
 
 Lake Shore Route 
 10: 15 A.M., Saturday, February Jf., 1893. 
 
 Ha! my dear Luc, here I am again off on my 
 travels. I've been so busy that I really haven't 
 given a moment's thought to the subject, beyond at- 
 tending to preliminaries, so I am quite surprised to 
 find myself started for the long trip. . . . 
 
 Lots of things I want to tell about, but perhaps 
 I 'd best give my whole mind first to the Jarley, 
 which went off finely. I did my hair in smooth 
 puffs, it is becoming, and I wish it were the fashion, 
 for I 'm just grey enough now to have it pretty. A 
 big comb behind. My ovm. new brocade coat over 
 a real old quilted red petticoat, belonging to Mrs. 
 
MATUNUCK, EUROPE, CALIFORNIA 277 
 
 de Forest's grandmotlier, short, showed feet, a fichu 
 of Mrs. Goddard's, quite open, and a great big minia- 
 ture of Mr. Jarley I borrowed of Willy Poor, night 
 I dined there. Rouge and powder made me look 
 very well. I had a real old bonnet, yellow satin, and 
 came out first with it on, and — " Diana of the 
 Crossways " as a cloak, but I laid these off at once. 
 I made a speech before the curtain, saying I was the 
 original Jarley but not the first one, having married 
 Jarley after her decease. I had a broad-bordered 
 mourning handl^erchief and a big bag, lace mitts. 
 This speech was well received, the rooms were 
 crowded; they laughed at all the points very well. 
 Meanwhile Munzig had trained and placed the wax- 
 works, and in the applause the curtains drew back 
 and revealed a pretty tableau of them all. Judge 
 Howland and Beaman, the two funny men of N. Y., 
 par excellence, were dressed like draymen, in checked 
 suits and paper caps, to lift the figures and dust 'em, 
 wind up, etc. They were both very nice, en rapport 
 with me, perfectly themselves, not acting, but saying 
 funny things. There was a real hand-organ, gTound 
 by Mr. Cross, as an Italian. He was n't a wax-works. 
 They were: 1, Bo-peep; 2, Mary had a little Lamb; 
 3, Diana (these all pretty girls of fashion, got up to 
 look pretty), Columbus subdued by a smile of Indian 
 Maiden, Paderewski, Gladstone and the cow (no 
 cow), and the Police Matron, Mrs. Malony, you may 
 have read about in the papers. The most charming 
 was Kelly (a young clubman) who danced like Car- 
 mencita, dressed according, very graceful and pretty. 
 These were all, except l^ora Godwin, who at the last, 
 as Lorelei, had a little scene with a tail, and fishing 
 up a drowned sailor. We had the curtain three 
 times with intermissions, so the thing was long 
 enough ; — but at the end there were howls for 
 Jarley, and I sang " Coming through the Rye " and 
 
278 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 the ^'Lapland" song. All then demanded that 
 ''Missing the Train/' which I had done at Mrs. 
 Goddard's, and a banana was sent for to Mrs. Hunt's, 
 three doors off. As I had no costume or properties 
 for doing that, I invented a yarn I have long thought 
 of, telling the plot of a story all mixed up so that 
 there is no sense in it, while I ate the banana. This 
 pleased them. Oh, while we were waiting for 
 the banana Howland and Beaman sang " Johnny 
 Smoker " — and at the very end, when we were called 
 out once more, they both shouted at once, " We both 
 want to be Mr. Jarley." It was all easy and jolly 
 and like our old charade doings, and everybody was 
 delighted. Swarms of people came to me after, at 
 a sumptuous supper; 't would take a week to re- 
 count them all. I was pretty tired but slept well, and 
 was equal to my packing next day. Howland and 
 Beamen Avere awfully nice to me, and all the rest, 
 in fact, but the rest are chiefly fools — of the per- 
 formers, I mean. Mr. Tod was very nice, and so 
 in fact was Mrs. Tod, a little woman of fashion, in 
 short, a Potter. Billy Bobby Ware was there, stern 
 with me for not letting him know I was in N. Y. I 
 am sorry about that, forgot him at first, and then 
 too much engulfed with engagements. Nelly Blod- 
 gett sent me an immense bunch of the lastest kind of 
 roses, to wear tied with a broad pink ribbon. I now 
 take my koumiss. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SuSE. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Chicago, Illinois, February 7, 1893. 
 DEAR LUC, — ... As these people here are roll- 
 ing in wealth on both sides, it is a luxurious, hand- 
 some house, with rugs, pictures, sen^ants ad lib., a 
 turbulent family, slaves to the telephone, which is 
 
MATUNUCK, EUEOPE, CALIFORNIA 279 
 
 going incessantly — some of them are a little deaf, 
 so the key is high on which all conversation is pitched. 
 It's odd, but though this luxe is as different as pos- 
 sible from the simple Dr. Dudley home, there's the 
 very same flavour of Chicago unrest, noise, racket, 
 hurry, bustle, no repose, no particular centre, outside 
 people pouring in, the family pouring out, everybody 
 late to meals, the father hurrying on the food, car- 
 riage always at the door, some rushing for cars and 
 missing them, Robert taking snap photographs, the 
 dog bursting in and breaking an expensive plaque, 
 nobody grumbling at anything, all very sunny and 
 happy, very well-bred, polite to me, our departure 
 to-night a mere circumstance — such is life in Chi- 
 cago. I can't think the race can stand it more than 
 one hundred years, if so much. Meanwhile it's 
 amusing to watch. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 124 Rush Street, Chicago, Friday, 
 April 28, 1893. 
 
 DEAE LUCEETIA, — Quel scvimmagio ! we are all 
 full of plans and engagements and skurrying to and 
 fro and the "joy of eventful living." It is like 
 6 Hamilton Place on the eve of " Water Day " only 
 more so. Mrs. M. is a delightful hostess and just 
 throwing herself into a whole summer of the fiercest 
 hospitality, and I come in for the first fruits. But 
 I must be calm and mention that I have got here, all 
 safe, and am now nicely rested. . . . 
 
 The place reeks and swarms with the just and the 
 unjust. . . . 
 
 We went to see the Fair grounds yesterday, in the 
 carriage, and, oh, my dear ! it is glorious there. You 
 must be tired of hearing of it. But if you '11 imagine 
 
280 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 an area as fine as the whole of the Louvre, Tiiileries, 
 Pantheon, Palais de Justice, Invalides, with the 
 Seine thrown in, bridges and all, suddenly spring up 
 in a night, all of white marble, and set down on the 
 borders of the beautiful lake, you'll sort of under- 
 stand. ]S[ot miniature, or imitation looking, but the 
 real big things, with real canals and real gondolas 
 floating about. Aunt Maggie kept groaning what a 
 pity they are not of permanent materials, but to my 
 mind there's the very charm — it's a great bubble 
 blown up in honour of the time, which will be dissi- 
 pated when the occasion for it has ceased. We only 
 saw the outside ensemble, rolled about in chairs by 
 nice students from universities, in blue coats, with 
 good manners. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, THE WEST, 
 EUROPE 
 
 (1893-1897) 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, Monday, 
 
 8 : 30 A. M., May 22, 1893. 
 
 (Breakfast done at 7 o'clock.) 
 
 DEAR LUCRETIA, — Mrs. G. Child has got eighteen 
 little ducklings, the sweetest things you ever saw. 
 Cornelia says the frogs will eat them, but the frogs 
 ain't come " aout " yet, so they are sailing about the 
 pond. I was strolling back from Ramses, where I 
 had been to look after the lady's-slippers ; they are 
 still in bud, very small as yet, and not many, — and 
 coming round by Jerry's cart-track and through the 
 G. Child barn-yard I conversed with Walter Perry, 
 who it seems is a worthy soul. . . . Well — " Her 
 gawselings, two on 'em, was took the noight before, 
 so there ain't but four gawselings to be sailing 
 around the pond," — four sponsors, however, or 
 grandfathers, or old geese, remain from last year 
 with them. While I was grieving for this, however, 
 he said, cheering up, " But th' old duck come back 
 yesterday with eighteen hatched out ! " " Did ! " said 
 Susan. 
 
 "Yes, yer know" (as if it was in the papers), 
 " she stole her nest last year and brought home eight, 
 but now there 's eighteen." 
 
 Much encouraged by this I was hurrying home, 
 
282 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 when, lo! at their landing (this was exactly at sun- 
 set, seven o'clock), set sail on the pond, the sweetest 
 
 sight, little Ma duck, 
 
 -^ ♦Ar^^^ but stay: let me depict, 
 
 ^^^{ ^^— ^ their heads like little 
 
 black knobs, but all pad- 
 dling and steering and veering like old crafts. Ain't 
 it too bad the frogs will get them ? 
 
 A change of dynasty occurred here at that same 
 hour, without bloodshed. Exit Cornelia, and vive 
 Louise. This was made to suit these ladies, Louise 
 did n't " feel to come " before, and now " she feels 
 to come." Cornelia consented to come to 'commer- 
 date Louise, but now she thinks Louise wants the 
 job, and besides her settin' hen requires her atten- 
 tion, " for lor sakes they don't know nothin' abaout 
 chickens." ''They" is Hannah, Oliver, and Frank- 
 lin, who calmly allowed a chicken to die without 
 counting it. 
 
 Cornelia was in fine form, and vastly entertaining, 
 but Louise, after all, suits me better; she is enor- 
 mous this year, but well, and is now carrying some 
 new pails up garret, mth a rolling sort of gait, be- 
 seeming to 250 avoirdupois. 
 
 Because I went to Wakefield Saturday alone, and 
 came home with brooms sticking out of the wagon, 
 pails piled behind, bread, dish-towels and papering 
 for Fullum's room, for Knowles he 's selling out, and 
 has a pretty assortment of papers cheap — 'Lishe 
 and Alice will come and paper to-morrer, if Louise 
 will go down to Weedens' and help clean this after- 
 noon. . . . 
 
 Your loving Susie. 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 283 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, May 30, 1893. 
 
 DEAR CABOLiNE, — When I came back and saw my 
 front stairs, I sate down on them and laughed, they 
 looked so unclothed after wading knee-deep in your 
 rugs (like the talking oak, only his were ferns). No 
 matter it 's real good here outdoors, — and so I dare- 
 say it is with you to-day, for the sun has come out 
 bravely. Things were rather at sixes and sevens, the 
 bed taken down in my room, and everything thrown 
 out of window, for instead of beating the carpet and 
 putting it down in my absence, Elisha had interested 
 himself in mowing the la\\Ti. Now new-mown hay is 
 very well in its way, but you do like a place to put 
 your bonnet. No matter again. 
 
 Mounds of letters, and loathesome masses of news- 
 papers two mails old, like cold griddle-cakes. 
 
 It was lovely crossing, mild in spite of the grey, 
 and I was fully busy thinking all about my comfort- 
 ing visit, dear, for that is what it was to me. This 
 is all I'm going to write now, for I sit in chaos. 
 Lots of love from 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, October 2, 1893. 
 dear LUC, — Phil, came Tuesday, Cornelia was 
 here and in fine spirits, and cooked like a breeze the 
 succulent things in the larder. But, lo! on Thurs- 
 day (it now seems ages ago), Oliver came doAvn and 
 said Hannah was sick. Cornelia put the turkey in 
 the stove, made a good fire to last, threw away the 
 pumpkin all strained and seasoned for pies, and de- 
 parted in haste. I went to the kitchen, and ihat day, 
 and Friday, and Saturday, myself cooked everything 
 
284 LETTERS OF SUSAI^ HALE 
 
 that was eaten in the house ! I did it, of course, re- 
 markably well, and Philip was indulgent, but, oh ! 
 it is a terrible drag on the legs as well as other 
 members. . . . The first day Phil, and I washed all 
 the dishes after dinner, that you know is what kills, 
 — after standing all the morning, to go at it again 
 at the sink. But good old Eranklin came every day 
 afterwards, and made the fire mornings, and stayed 
 round, and I called in Oliver, who dined with Frank- 
 lin and stayed afterwards to help him wash up. 
 'Twas a sight to see the two old darkies clumsily 
 puttering away with the mops and towels. Oh ! those 
 mornings ! to wake up in doubt of any help — cold 
 as Greenland — my bath at six, — then down to a 
 cold kitchen, the faithful Franklin appearing just as 
 I gave him up, — then making myself the coffee, 
 sweeping the red room, in a royal clutter, of course, 
 with Phil., his cigarettes, the constant fire, news- 
 papers all scattered round, — set the table, back to 
 kitchen to fry sausages and potatoes and make toast, 
 boil milk, skim the cream, put away the milk, keep 
 neat the refrigerator, fetch Phil.'s waterpail, and 
 cheer him in bed with news from the front, — break- 
 fast always late, on account of slowness of fire to 
 boil coffee, sinking down in a chair to get something 
 inside of me — no spoons, or butter or something else 
 lacking, so to jump up and get them — and the fire 
 to be kept up in the red room. . , . My ! was I glad 
 on Sunday morning to hear Cornelia's genial voice! 
 Hannah is all right ; it was a scare, and Cornelia gave 
 us a royal dinner in four courses, — Phil.'s send-off 
 before he departed same Sunday p. m. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
MATU^^UCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 285 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 New York, December 9, 1893. 
 
 MY CAROLINE, — No quiet sitty-sitty in my room 
 after breakfast to write letters, for all is a rush and 
 whirl. Yesterday I didn't put pen to paper, and 
 now I must go forth into the world immediately. 
 We supped with Irving and Terry last night at Papa 
 Park Godwin's, and these lions didn't dream of 
 leaving us till two, two (2), so it was half-past when 
 Susan stretched herself along the bed, and this morn- 
 ing there was no sign of breakfast till nine. Opera 
 the night before, and it was one o'clock before we 
 '' retired," to be quite correct. Is it not lucky my 
 constitution is so confirmed (?) by nights and nights 
 of Fooley Ann, so I am equal to all this ? Opera was 
 charming; Melba, a new light, has a fresh young 
 voice, very flexible, and a wonderful method. It was 
 Thomas' '' Hamlet," finely put on the stage, good or- 
 chestra. We were up in the third tier, it was fun 
 to look down on Mrs. Kruger's neck and shoulders, 
 and Mrs. Whitelaw Reid's diamonds. . . . 
 
 Niece Nelly is having a fine time with her Daven- 
 ports, and I had a charming dinner there last eve- 
 ning, after which we all went in t\^'0 carriages to see 
 Irving and Terry in "Henry VIII." Glorious, the 
 stage setting wonderful. I had no idea I was going 
 to meet them after it at the Godwins', — but there 
 they came. I sate next him. Be is charming. She 
 is rather frubsy, restless, very gracious, however. He 
 has given us a box for the " Lyons Mail," Saturday 
 evening, — and to-night I go to Willard's " Profes- 
 sor's Love Story." Voila! . . . 
 
 Your Susan. 
 
286 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 Octoher 10, 1894. 
 
 How lovely of you, dear Carla, to write me such 
 a nice letter. It will comfort me for Robert's de- 
 parture to answer it to-day. A howling, howling 
 northeast storm; the house rocked and shook in the 
 night, it leaked and drip-dripped in my bedroom. 
 Early in the dark, gloomy morning, a blind I opened 
 (thereby drenching me and my nighty), banged and 
 smashed a big pane, that one at the head of the 
 kitchen stairs. I nailed it up feebly with a piece 
 of thin board (in the same costume, before my bath). 
 Here in the red room with a cosy fire it is quiet, 
 being southwest, and Pa and Ma Wells are still 
 quietly sleeping in their room above me, where Mamie 
 and Gladys lived. . . . 
 
 I delight to be here, — later than for several years. 
 The weather up to to-day has been just perfect ; I 
 never saw such a glorious day as Sunday, — and it 
 will be fine no doubt, after this. I 'm thankful my 
 Robert got off yesterday, for would n't this have been 
 a howler to drive in, to Kingston? I miss him ter- 
 ribly, and it was awful, last week, to have Phil. go. 
 But you know I am an incorrigible devotee to soli- 
 tude, and am never so cheerful, I believe, or so un- 
 ruffled by small difiiculties as when I 'm alone. 
 There 's a sort of obligation to be polite and pleasant 
 to yourself when nobody else is round, and besides, — 
 what 's the use of getting mad with yourself ? Your- 
 self can't hit back. 
 
 How ridiculous for Robert to go to a different 
 wedding in Pittsfield. How absurd it would sound 
 in a book ! Speaking of books, we have done pretty 
 well this summer for reading aloud, — all the " Sinky- 
 witch " books, i. e., " Fire and Sword," " Deluge," 
 
MATU^^UCK, NEW YOKK, EUROPE 287 
 
 two volumes, " Pan Michael," " Yanko," as well as 
 " Patronage," " Pendennis," " Beauchamp's Career," 
 and ''Richard Feverel." Robert and I read "Pen- 
 dennis" (nine hundred big pages) in less than a 
 week. Last evening I was so solitary and sleepy, 
 after a glorious, long walk, I thought I should have 
 to go to bed at seven-thirty; but began a wicked old 
 novel of Dumas, and didn't stir from it till 
 
 nine. 
 
 Your always loving 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 1619 Indiana x\ venue, Chicago, Illinois, 
 Sunday, January 20, 1895. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — . . . Buffalo was very delightful 
 and my heart still remains with the Rogers family, 
 especially Pa and Ma Rogers, who are lovely, gentle, 
 folks. . . . 
 
 Wednesday the trunks went off at 11 a. m., after 
 that there was a moon-like calm all day, for whatever 
 else they bought they had to carry in their hands. 
 At 9 p. M. we all (except the dogs) left the house for 
 the station, and soon bade farewell to the parents and 
 James Johnston, and rolled off in the swell private 
 car, only my berth was in a common one next. I 
 breakfasted with them all next morning, sumptu- 
 ously, at a real table in a real room wdth huge plate- 
 glass panes to the windows. . . . 
 
 Scene now changes to a very pleasant, light, quiet 
 spare-room with bath-room adjacent at this friendly 
 house. Mrs. Dudley and the Doctor very cordial, 
 really pleased, and just as witty, clever, agreeable as 
 possible. . . . 
 
 There was to be a great musicale that first evening 
 at Mrs. Glessner's, so I took a (after the sleeper of 
 
288 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 previous night) useful nap, in some anguish about 
 my trunk (as it started with the California ones, 
 by a separate train from ours), but it turned up all 
 right, and I put on my fine golden Day gown. It 
 was a beautiful affair in the splendid Glessner 
 Richardson-made chateau, ladies dressed in " 1 8th 
 Century" costume, either powdered, or a la Recamier, 
 anything except modem, though, of course, many, 
 like me, in ordinary gowns. The house was a bower 
 of roses, the electric lights veiled in pink artificial- 
 flower shades, so the light was dim, while through 
 an arch of smilax (this new kind) the orchestra, 
 Thomas, played delightful things. After that, sup- 
 per, standing, roving round the place, lots of people 
 I knew, amongst others Mrs. David Coolidge (a 
 Shurtleff), who is staying here va\h. her son. Dr. 
 Fred, who married a Chicago Sprague. . . . Lots 
 of people fell on my neck on account of Papa Ed- 
 ward. President Harper and Mrs. Palmer of the 
 university there, — and others, from which spring 
 future engagements, to be reported as they come off. 
 It was a very brilliant and beautiful occasion, worthy 
 of any cosmopolitan city, the only thing to note es- 
 pecially is that they take more pains here to be cor- 
 rect, — but nothing is overdone, nothing vulgar. The 
 two celebrated belles of Chicago, Mrs. Caton and 
 Mrs. Eddy, had correct rococo costumes, brocades 
 cut just like our grandma one, but brand-new. Their 
 hair powdered, and all their diamonds on in tiaras, 
 
 or elsewhere. . . . But, oh ! now for Mrs. C . I 
 
 knew her before. She is lion-hunter enragee, ad- 
 vanced female, views, everything, but above all, given 
 to hospitality. She came, she said, " to carry me 
 off " after the lunch, to spend the night at her house 
 over on the north side (between which and us is a 
 great gulf fixed, you know). I was aghasted, T 
 twisted in the toils, but in vain, so, now let me tell 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YOEK, EUROPE 289 
 
 you about it. In the first place tliej all stayed till 
 four-thirty, then she (the last) said, '' j^ow, Miss 
 Hale." I had to go up and hastily invent a few 
 things for the night, which I put in the Angel, then 
 came do^vn and drove in her sort of hunched-up 
 carryall with sides buckled down, it was pouring, 
 talking a blue streak two miles to her house, — she 
 said the house was full of the people coming to her 
 party, but she was to find a corner for me ; " she knew 
 I was the sort wouldn't mind sharing a bed." Fancy 
 my anguish ! The house when Ave got there proved 
 to be the largest I was ever in, very modem, swell, 
 in swell part of Chic. Immense drawing-room like 
 a" conservatory, all w^indows, on a curve, with win- 
 dow-seat overlooking the lake, — an organ in it, — 
 grand piano, mere detail, crooked-legged chairs, arm- 
 chairs, consoles, girandoles, flowers, pictures, rugs, — 
 not too much, fairly good taste, Dresden, Limoges, 
 Sevres, photographs all over the house. Halls with 
 stairs up and down, and open fireplaces, long corri- 
 dors, — double doors, portieres. All in a bustle, 
 maids about, mistress of the house returning after 
 the whole day out, regarded with a vague interest 
 b}^ people putting ferns in vases. Mrs. Dean Palmer 
 advanced and was received joyfully. She had missed 
 her train, so came and made herself at home (she 
 was invited for the evening, but had meant to go back 
 to her university and change her goAvn). Mrs. C 
 embraced her, gave a few orders, then noticed me 
 standing in the middle of the place with my Angel 
 at my feet, "Oh, Miss Hale, — by the way, — yes, 
 we must put you somewhere, — well, suppose we all 
 come up into my room." Here she forgot all about 
 me again, but Alice Palmer, taking compassion, in- 
 vited me up another flight to her room as she called 
 it, having taken herself possession on her arrival. 
 Here I got on the bed. Observe I had parted com- 
 
290 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 party with my Angel, bonnet, fur and india-rubbers, 
 and met them not till long after. I needed this nap, 
 for I had been in the sleeper one night, then the next, 
 up late at Mrs. Glessner's, and not drawn rein. I 
 found a bath-room and a stray comb, and dressed 
 according to my lights, without any baggage, and 
 strolled do"svn just in time for dinner at a long, con- 
 fused table. Frank Sanborn is the real lion of this 
 set for the moment. He is talking about Abolition- 
 ists on Tuesdays at Mrs. C 's, and staying there. 
 
 . . . But next me sat Miss Root, femme mure who 
 
 lives chez Mrs. C , Swedenborgian, but a very 
 
 attractive woman, and there was a Miss Bryan there 
 I afterwards much liked. These people were all by 
 the way of adoring me, and it went very well, though 
 I was cross, tired, and dull along that part. You see 
 the thing was endless. We were scarce through a 
 scattery kind of dinner, where you had to keep pass- 
 ing the olives, but in a superb dining-room, with 
 more Limoges and Sevres and Spode up on shelves 
 made on purpose, when guests began to burst in by 
 stairs up from the front door, and we had to come 
 out and be presented. Here was Miss Lunt, who 
 idolises Mrs. May Lewe Dickinson, and had met me 
 at her house in ISTew York, and people, chiefly named 
 Root, poured in because they are musical and were 
 to sing. It was about this time that I slipped up- 
 stairs and wandered round searching for my effects, 
 and met a nice, coloured Ellen, who runs the house, 
 who, moved by my state, found my Angel, and put 
 me in a room with two beds inhabited by the C — - — 
 boys, with guns and shaving materials, but always 
 more Limoges and Sevres and plaques of Abraham 
 Lincoln. I got out my slippers and a fresh hand- 
 kerchief; I had on a fairly good gown for a lunch, 
 but no gloves, and felt only half dressed, but every- 
 body else was so, except Mrs. C , who had time 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 291 
 
 to slip into a pale blue surali waist, and do her hair 
 over. 
 
 About a hundred people came tumbling in, or let 
 us say fifty, but really as many as that. The singing 
 was beautiful, some Christmas music, the room so 
 large the organ was not overpowering, Mrs. Winn was 
 there, that used to run the Quincy Shaw school, 
 adores Nelly, — and, mind you, I was presented to 
 every one as the chief lion, and they all raved about 
 
 Papa. Mrs. A is a very sweet old lady slightly 
 
 deaf. She followed me about, and I liked her, only 
 she is rabid for woman's suffrage, and I felt like a 
 fraud, yet didn't want to discuss the subject. Frank 
 Sanborn and I sate together part of the time on a 
 sort of Recamier-sofa-throne, and cracked jokes about 
 Boston. But the time seemed endless. I saw other 
 happy people going away! but I couldn't, like the 
 caged bird. New people dropped in about eleven, 
 and we lions had to be trotted out again, and stand 
 on one leg after the other. Finally the last went, 
 and then to bed ; but where ! The sainted daughter, 
 Sally, gave up her luxurious room to me, Ellen, the 
 darkey, brought my Angel, my bonnet, my fur ! At 
 last I was in bed. Nice bath in the morning in a 
 china bath-tub of great size. Long breakfast table, 
 and really rather amusing talk, for now I felt fresh, 
 with Alice Palmer, F. Sanborn, and all the rest; for 
 six slept there, and the family is fourteen. And so 
 by and by escaped ; and a very agreeable Irish coach- 
 man drove me home in a buggy. Wasn't that a 
 time! . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
292 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Chicago, Fehruary 1, 1895. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — ... Another epave of ancient time 
 is Professor Palmer, just now visiting his Dean wife, 
 and much feted ; . . . We met them last evening at 
 a very grand dinner at Mrs. Glessner's, of sixteen 
 guests. I wore my Day gold gown, which is gorgeous. 
 I sat next to Thomas, the conductor. I was rather 
 scared, but he is easy to talk to. Hlis wife is Amy 
 Fay's sister, you know (that was with me in Boston), 
 that kind of Fay to which Zebra Pierce belongs. 
 The dinner was for the Palmers, after dinner I had 
 lots of talk with Mrs. Alice Freeman Palmer, and 
 she was, in fact, charming. She is just resigning her 
 post of Dean here, and goes back to settle down in 
 Cambridge, where he "professors," but first they 
 travel abroad for a year. There was also Professor 
 Laughlin, . . . quite an amusing fellow. All these 
 eastern importations like to sit and analyse Chicago, 
 and it is an interesting study. Laughlin says the 
 women are far more advanced than the men; they 
 certainly run the whole thing, and the men do have 
 a cowed look; Dr. Dudley holds his own, however. 
 A distinguished military-looking man with white hair 
 and irreproachable shirt-front proved to be Marshall 
 Field, the great shopkeeper where I bought my wrap- 
 per, but he is a man of intelligence and philanthropy, 
 triple millionaire. I should think he would wear 
 orders and call himself le Marechal Field. . . . 
 
 The table was beautiful, a huge centre-piece of 
 white roses and lilies of the valley, on crimson plush, 
 five butlers, and lots of courses — but the terrapin 
 was not up to the Philadelphia mark. The men at 
 these feasts stay away an endless time ; and it 's not 
 because they drink or smoke much, for there is very 
 little wine at these dinners, and only a few have 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YOEK, EUKOPE 293 
 
 cigars ; it 's another sign of the supremacy of woman, 
 for the men think thej want to be left to themselves ! 
 I remonstrate, though last night I was having a very 
 pleasant talk with Mrs. Palmer, when Laughlin 
 joined in. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Iowa City, Wednesday, February 20, 1895. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — I have just finished a stupendous 
 copying job for Edward, twenty-nine pages of break- 
 jaw stuff about Old English syllables, it has taken 
 three days. It will affect my wits and handwriting 
 in this letter, but I wanted to get that off my mind, 
 and yet I must write this to keep up the continu- 
 ity which works so well; for yours came in this 
 morning. . . . 
 
 You may well guess that my randans here have 
 begun. Such a time! Edward is quite dismayed 
 at my being such a lion, but he is very sweet and 
 patient with it. Thirty-two calls have been made on 
 me, and yesterday a great reception of me from all 
 the Ladies' clubs. Edward is so funny about it, he 
 says, " Of course you are nice, but what I can't 
 understand is your being a literary celebrity." 
 
 But these small towns beat the Dutch; I believe 
 
 they would run after , if she should come this 
 
 way, and, indeed, she would be a worthy subject for 
 their rampant curiosity, which is all it is, in matter 
 of fact. Our Mrs. Copeland, the landlady, began it. 
 Of course Mrs. Shaeffer (observe I spell her more 
 copiously after seeing her card) and a few of the 
 Professor's wives, felt bound to call on Edward's 
 aunt, — but Mrs. Copeland, at meals, when I have 
 lingered after Edward's departure, was much carried 
 away by my charms, because I knew Louisa Alcott, 
 
294 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 had seen Longfellow and Emerson, and been in a 
 hack with Susan B. Anthony. She, Mrs. Copeland, 
 "is a club-woman," — and she early secured me to 
 " attend a meeting " of her club, they were going to 
 discuss Michelangelo, but come to think on't, they 
 concluded to discuss me, and then to invite members 
 of all the other clubs in town, then they asked me 
 to " address them on some subject," and then it 
 slipped unawares into the local newspaper. So there 
 was the greatest fussing and calling and consulting, 
 and people who had n't yet " visited " now " visited," 
 and in fine, yesterday was the day, and Mrs. Bloom's 
 the house. Moses Bloom was a great Jew here, and 
 his widow lives in the "most elegant mansion" in 
 the place, and by good luck she belongs to some club, 
 so Mrs. Copeland worked on her to receive the "Amal- 
 gamated Clubs " at her house, and Mrs. Bloom called 
 on me as a preliminary, and I was out, so on Sunday 
 she went to our church ! to bag me coming out, and 
 Mrs. Barrett, who is the President of Mrs. Copeland's 
 club, called on me, and I was out, so she fixed an 
 hour through Mrs. C. to call again, and learn my 
 views on my subject, that she might fitly introduce 
 me. They were crazy that I should talk about the 
 celebrated people I have kno"^m, but I wouldn't do 
 that, so they were e'en content with a " talk " about 
 Corsica, etc. Well the house is very pretty, just like 
 the Brookline later, suburban houses, of wood, large 
 rooms, portieres, hard floors, rugs — somewhat crude 
 in adornments, but not really back in sea-shells and 
 snipped-paper ornaments, very pretty, in fact. Mrs. 
 Bloom, as hostess, Mrs. Barrett, as President of the 
 N. N. Club, Mrs. Copeland, as my keeper, myself, 
 as the received, stood in the doorAvay, and met about 
 fifty or more ladies of the three clubs, viz., the Art 
 Club and the 19th Century, and "Ours," the K N. 
 (No Name) Club. There was a little remorqueuVjOT 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 295 
 
 tug-boat, named Miss , or some tiling, who took 
 
 in tow separately members of ber club (the 19tb C), 
 and presented these, but the Art Club had to stretch 
 for themselves, for their President is abroad. . . . 
 Of course, I had seen about a dozen of the ladies 
 before, and some of them are very well-bred, well- 
 dressed, attractive women, . . . and they all have 
 an appalling thirst for the improvement of their 
 minds. There are folding doors, and I sate in the 
 middle of them with a stiff circle round the edge of 
 each room. It was rather formidable, as the prevail- 
 ing dress is black silk, and I had to turn my head 
 from one set to the other, like a weather-cock (I no- 
 tice my neck is a bit stiff this morning). But I fell 
 to prattling in a perfectly easy way about my trip 
 with Susan across Corsica, and they sate enwrapped, 
 — and many managed out of my simple tale of travel- 
 ling to extract " a thought " to elevate and instruct. 
 I managed it in laps, leaving off when I feared they 
 would flag — when lemonade was served, after which 
 I went at it again. They thought it was beautiful, 
 and Mrs. Copeland quotes a lady, who "envies me 
 that vocabulary." So I got back to Edward, who was 
 much amused by my account, and we are both re- 
 lieved it is over. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, April ^J/,, 1896. 
 . . . Oh, my dear, such a relief to get here. I was 
 in a horrid way in town, the last end of my tether, 
 body and soul. It was lovely and warm when we got 
 here, and everything so nicely prepared. Such an 
 improvement on the early days of my arrivals, when, 
 as once, I had to kick in the back door myself, in 
 order to enter a cold, neglected house. ISTow Elisha 
 
296 
 
 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 was at the door, Louise in the kitchen, niayflowers 
 on the table, bright fire on the hearth, a few letters 
 waiting, and Christie, hurrying up the hill with eggs, 
 and Thomas J., going do^Mi after leaving a chicken. 
 I had a fine smoking-hot meal of steak and boiled 
 potatoes about five, and went to bed at six, in broad 
 daylight, birds singing outside my window. Since 
 
 then we 've had a cold 
 turn, and I got wet to the 
 skin (fact) away down by 
 the ponds picking " ar- 
 butus." ISTot so very good 
 for grippe, you will say, 
 but in fact I 've been bet- 
 ter ever since; it kind of 
 shook me up I expect. 
 
 I can read here ! ! Don't 
 think I 've opened a book 
 since March 1. I have 
 a Cherbuliez novel, which 
 starts well, down on the Mediterranean, and I have 
 Mrs. Clifford's " Flash of Summer " ; have you seen 
 it? Terribly sad, but extremely well written. All 
 these tales nowadays begin with a most unpromising 
 marriage, and worry along to a miserable death or 
 two at the end, but it's no use to expect anything 
 different. . . . Lots of love. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 Matuntjck, Rhode Island, 
 
 May 6, 1896. 46°! 
 
 deak LUC, — Two delicious days, Monday and 
 
 Tuesday, sitting in the doorway, with warm sun, and 
 
 such rich-throated birds ; one had his little gullet just 
 
 full of rapture he threw out, expressly for me, sitting 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUEOPE 297 
 
 on tlie post of tlie piazza. I begged him to settle 
 there for the summer. But a grummelly imefficient 
 thunder shower in the afternoon yesterday changed 
 all during the night to howling north winds, blowing 
 from everywhere, and to-day it is grey and freezing 
 cold again, so I return to my fireside. However, 
 those two days were worth waiting a winter. 
 
 Always yrs., 
 
 Susie. 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, May 27, 1896. 
 
 DEAR JjVC, — I want to tell you that I saw the full 
 moon rise last night, my first dealings of any sort 
 with the heavenly bodies this season. It was really, 
 full the night before, but fogs and clouds, — so, as 
 last evening, it was booked to rise at eight-forty-two, 
 I slipped on my red dressage when I went to bed at 
 eight-thirty (in Fullum's room), and softly stepped 
 into my own room, not to disturb Louise ; there I 
 sate in big arm-chair waiting the performance. It 
 was lovely, the only night possible to call warm 
 (except that cracker of a Sunday), so dark and still, 
 frogs singing, whippoorwills, and occasionally a cow 
 remarking in the dark. Where to look I knew not, — 
 so little conversant with moons of late. Scorpio was 
 over Africa in the least land-locked part of our hori- 
 zon. Well : by and by came a flush behind the Point 
 Judy lighthouse ! and then the rim ! — away out to 
 sea, at least five moons' mdths to the right (or south) 
 of Point Judy, so that it made a wake across the 
 water when it got high enough. It was very beauti- 
 ful, coppery, and strolling slowly upward through 
 belts of fog. So then I went to bed. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
298 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June Jf,, 1896. 
 DEAE LucEETiA, — . . .Yesterday I didn't touch 
 pen to paper ; at nine-thirty, after wrangling at cart- 
 rails till I was nearly wild, — having bought a slop- 
 pail, a duster, a gem-pan and a floor-broom, and 
 resisted the lure of fifty feet of hose, — I shrieked 
 to Francis, " Let 's get out of this ! " — and we started 
 off on a great walk after arethusa. The country is 
 enchanting. We hied up through Goodchildses, and 
 admired her pigs, which she has set up in a " stoi " 
 near Jerry's cart-track. Climbed the gate and en- 
 countered " George Oi's " sheep with lots of little 
 lambs. Crossed to the Kingston road foot of Broad 
 Hill, and walked up to Mrs. Teft's, finding lupines 
 under the pine trees. Mrs. Teft she was washin', and 
 real glad to see us, the medder pinks made her think 
 o' me, and she was wondering. She 's pretty well ex- 
 cept for the rheumatiz, and washed out three days in 
 the week all winter long over to Segurses'. She had 
 forty eggs sot, but nothin' come on 'em but four 
 brilers, and she let them go last week to Hen. Whaley. 
 She thought mebbe I 'd like them, but he come along. 
 So we left her, and went down through her "swormp'' 
 and got the arethusas (same as medder pinks), and 
 so came up round by Peths'. She also was in her 
 tubs (why Wednesday (?)), but took us into the 
 parlour and said, " Ye 'd better take off your bunnit 
 (my heret) and cool yer head." They's all up in 
 confusion with them bees that swormed that morning 
 and all aout in the apple tree now loose, but Josh 
 he ain't never stung cause he can manage 'em. She 
 was thinking of whitewashing, but sot down to read 
 a letter. This to account for the disorder of the 
 room. She give us " pinies," and snowballs, and we 
 come on down through the fascinating wood-path, 
 with laurel just hinting, to Cornelia's. She was 
 whitewashing, and met us with hands upraised all 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YOKK, EUEOPE 299 
 
 limy — but presented a dusky cheek to my embrace. 
 She was dretful glad to see us, and her cats come 
 round most friendly. By the way, Mrs. Teft had a 
 new kitten, named Grover Cleveland. Cornelia's 
 lilacs is all "threw" with, but she gave us yaller 
 lilies. Down through their poine-woods ter Mrs. 
 Abby Tucker's, but nobody but the dorg at home, 
 and him inside barkin' on us. I see her brilers are 
 l^retty well along, and her white rose well on to blow. 
 Was n't this a nice trip ? We reached here reeking, 
 just in time for a rubdown, the mail, and old fowls 
 fricasseed. I must stop. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Katharine P. Bowditch 
 (Mrs. Ernest Amory Codman) 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, May 30, 1896. 
 MY KATHARINE, — I had sucli a glorious rainbow 
 here all to myself last evening. I want to tell you 
 about it right off. I was thinl^ing about you when 
 it happened, so you see you came into it. It began 
 up behind the hill back of the Matlacks' and stretched 
 over the Salt Pond, and Brownings'^ and " Hogs- 
 wallow," which is now a mass of apple-blossoms, and 
 " P'int Judy," and came down behind the " Tumble- 
 down," but not into the ocean, for it stretched over it 
 so you saw the water-tints through the shaded colours 
 of the rainbow, and all that landscape framed thus, 
 and sparkling with the recent rain, was exquisite. 
 It lasted quite half an hour, I am sure, growing more 
 and more intense, — with the outer, reflected, re- 
 versed bow, distinct in every part, though fainter. 
 It was so lovely, I sort of felt it was a sign that 
 things were going to be bett-er with us. The porch 
 
300 LETTERS OF SUSAI^ HALE 
 
 shut it off partly, so I got a kitchen-cliair there was 
 in the best parlour and sate a long time (with a cape 
 on) out in the driveway, just in front of the house, 
 to watch it. Swallows were rejoicing round, and two 
 soared up together into the arch, and made me think 
 of Franz's song (isn't it?). 
 
 " Ach, Voglein, du hast dich betrogen 
 Sie wohnet nicht mehr in Thai 
 Schwing' auf dich zum Himmelsbogen 
 Griiss' sie droben zum letzten Mai." 
 
 Just then Louise came along with my supper on the 
 little P.M. tea-table. ''Where are you?" "Out 
 here ! " I cried, and she put it down in front of me, 
 table and all. Dropped guinea-hen's egg on toast, 
 and little new radishes. It was raining, you know, 
 and there I sate in the middle of the road, all laugh- 
 ing and crying, and eating my supper. The bow went 
 higher and higher as the sun set and setter, until it 
 was all melted into vague clouds and softness — and 
 I came in and lighted the fire. 
 
 Mr. Robert Browning is well. He came along 
 during the rainbow (before I had my supper), and 
 we conversed about it. I said (too lightly, I fear), 
 "Well, the people in the ark were glad to see it." 
 " Yes, that 's so," said he, very seriously. " And we 
 hain't no mention of there ever bein' a bow previous 
 to then." I must tell that to Robby. 
 
 Own 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 Matijntjck, Rhode Island, June 16, 1896. 
 MY DEAR CARLA, — Oh ! Carla, you can guess that 
 I miss Robert now terribly. This morning I was 
 thinking, — I mu^t have Robert. His soothing in- 
 
MATU^UCK, :^^EW YOEK, EUROPE 301 
 
 fluence kept everybody at his or her best — now, with 
 all the different elements, they are at odds, and T 
 can't talk with him about it to get comfort and 
 counsel. . . . 
 
 There are five maids or nurses in the kitchen, and 
 Franklin has his breakfast every day. My motto is, 
 " Kill, kill, slay and eat," for it seems as if there 
 could not be enough things in the house to feed so 
 many. I love the fray, you know, only my head 
 gets confused sometimes, after six weeks of absolute 
 quiet and solitude. The children are delicious. . . . 
 
 But just fancy last Sunday, pouring sheets of rain 
 outdoors, cold and damp within, fires in the red room 
 and Aunt Lucretia's, gloomy groups scattered over 
 the house and moulting in the kitchen. Not a hole 
 to hide in ! Thank heaven to-day is warm and glow- 
 ing with sunlight. The place looks lovely, and all 
 Matunuck is in perfection. Laurel just over every- 
 thing. Lots of love, dear Carla, from your 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Caeoline P. Atkinson 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 September 18, 1896. 
 DEAR MY CARLA, — I am rottcus uot to Write you 
 before, but I am up to my ears in housework since 
 the departure of the gilt-edged ladies. Has Phil, or 
 anybody written you what a scrimmage there was 
 that first week of September with fifteen people in 
 the house, and only fat Louisa Sebastian to " do " for 
 'em? We all turned to and set tables and washed 
 dishes. Edward was fine, he tried to wipe tumblers, 
 but couldn't get his hand inside he said. Parber 
 and I made the beds, and Erancis proved himself a 
 first-class butler. It Avas all because nobody was will- 
 ing to go away. We have calmed down now, only six 
 
302 LETTEES OF SUSAIs^ HALE 
 
 and a half at table, Geraldine's tlie half, — and we 
 have a regular routine of " stretching for ourselves." 
 Louise Gray changes the plates, Peggy cuts the bread 
 and fills the tumblers, Phil, makes sudden lunges at 
 the dishes to carry them out to the kitchen. Every- 
 one so accommodating that it runs merrily, and all 
 agree it's much pleasanter than the strait-laced 
 regime of Queen Mary, and Loisy's cooking makes 
 them eat twice as much as in Hannah's time. Of 
 course, it 's a little more work for me, but we are all 
 so happy I don't mind it. Only if I wash the break- 
 fast things, I don't write letters. September has 
 slipped along like lightning, and it is good for me 
 to be busy to keep off the wolves of thoughts about 
 last year. . . . 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Alger, Wednesday, December 16, 1896. 
 DEAR LUC, — With my nice coffee and marmalade 
 (fresh butter, and such rolls) I was planning many 
 necessary letters; but I believe I must begin one to 
 you, to say that I've got my wooden howl. It is ex- 
 actly my dream, that I imagined in coming, only 
 really better in several ways. Is n't that wonderful ? 
 — I was so afraid Madame Kirsch wouldn't give 
 me this room, — the one I had first, last time, and 
 which I dearly loved, and which I had to leave, in 
 about two weeks when we moved to the villa, where 
 my room was n't half so nice. So when we got here, 
 and Madan;ie led us up {six flights) I was all of a 
 tremble till she came to the right door, opened the 
 same window, and there was my terrace — and the 
 view ! I think it 's about the most beautiful view in 
 the world — perhaps that San Ysidro one is better, 
 but something like. Oh, my! the curving bay and 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YOKK, EUROPE 303 
 
 white-capped mountains, and sun just rising over 
 them into glorious blue sky, and the peacock water 
 all across the horizon, and on the left Algiers. And 
 then up here the nice, brick terrace all our own now 
 with a parapet that you can dry your towels on, 
 absolutely not overlooked, so high up : and down 
 below the winding road with little donkeys' trot-trot, 
 and boys sitting sideways, and Arabs and dogs and 
 butchers' carts, and a horn blowing, and jingle-jingle, 
 and tall cypress trees sticking up, and red roofs all 
 scattered amongst olive-trees, and the white villa 
 opposite, but below, so not to shut out anything, all 
 hung with vines ; and great fat roses climbing over 
 our gate, and lots of them on my bureau. And warm, 
 with the sun slanting in, and me in my dressage with 
 a light rug on knees only, and hair drying after ex- 
 cellent sitz-tub, which the sweet French maid has 
 just taken away, and garqon taken away the coffee- 
 tray. There! . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Luceetia P. Hale 
 
 ISTervi pees Genes, January 2^,, 1897. 
 DEAE LUC, — Last night, before climbing into my 
 steep German bed, I prepared for the occasion, by 
 spreading over it, besides my (new) Arab blanket 
 the Mddchen always sees fit to make up in it, my red 
 bear dressage and fur cape, rejoicing in the posses- 
 sion of such luxuries in a tropical climate. By wind- 
 ing my little head-shawl round my feet, I managed 
 to fall asleep comfortably, and must add that the fur 
 cape slipped off to the floor in the night without my 
 minding it. The weather was on my arrival, at first, 
 warm and lovely, open window, sun streaming in, but 
 a big storm was brewing, and all yesterday the sea 
 was in a glorious pother, the sun all day raging 
 
304 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 through an angry sky, making the most wonderful 
 peacock tints on the water, and great surf breaking 
 on our rocks, which everyone went out to see. Really 
 as fine as Atlantic storms. . . . 
 
 It 's very beautiful here, and intensely comfortable, 
 and I have a few friends in all languages in the 
 hotel, and, oh ! the joy of being by myself, I mean as 
 to making plans, no one to worry about, for fear she 
 is not happy. Then there 's no one to say, " I thought 
 you meant to do so and so." As for Lucca, it's no 
 great consequence whether I go there or not. So I 've 
 passed the week, getting a good rest after that Colum- 
 bia business, sitting in my lovely window with its sur- 
 passing view, mending all my clothes, and making a 
 digado to hide the rags of my other gown, writing up 
 letters (sadly behindhand), doing Italian ^neister- 
 schaft and an Italian novel, walking on the enchant- 
 ing spiaggia, or going to Genoa to shop. There was 
 a nice English girl here with her uncle, and evenings 
 I sate with them in the hall, where sometimes is 
 orchestra, and one evening was a prestidigitator, Avho 
 reminded me of Francis, only he spoke Italian and 
 French. These Hauburys are gone, and the only 
 American man is gone ; I 'm glad he 's gone, for he 
 made me tired, puling, and of no great account. So 
 now evenings I have my cafe noir sent up here, 
 where my nice lamp, novel, and Fooley Ann, await 
 me. By the way, last evening I beat twice running ! 
 I bought a new pack of cards (French) in Algiers, 
 and for a long time they could not get the hang of 
 the game, but now they beat quite frequently, and 
 when they don't, I cheat. 
 
 So now I want to hark back to those last days at 
 Algiers, which I never quite described, and I want to 
 review the period before it 's forgotten. I think very 
 fondly of the month at Kirsch, and in fact Genoa is 
 gloomy in contrast with laughing Algiers. You see 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YOEK, EUROPE 305 
 
 'Nora and I decided to go down to the town for a few 
 days. . . . 
 
 The rooms, deux chamhres communiquanies they 
 gave lis at l' Eur ope were one good, one very bad, and 
 Wora very kindly gave me the good one. This was 
 bad for us both. Hers was utterly dark, only having 
 a window on a well, which was far from well, as the 
 smells were of the kitchen ; so I had to have her come 
 into my room for coffee, etc., etc. She had to give me 
 the good, on account of my superior age, of course. 
 In general I prefer the bad, for then there's no 
 grumbling, or else I can do it myself. However, my 
 room was enchanting, and I should have had her 
 there anyway, most of the time, for us to enjoy the 
 balcony overlooking the amusing town and harbour, 
 where we hoped to see our steamer coming in; as it 
 happened our backs were turned just at that moment. 
 (Sun now shining in nice and warm; affections got 
 the better of rage, and clearing off fine.) 
 
 Well, we got there and settled in p. m. after a 
 scrirnmagio of departure from Kirsch. Seems to me 
 I wrote you or somebody about that. Xora went out 
 and bought up half the town, jewels, embroidery, all 
 kinds of things, and I met her at the pastry-cook's, 
 and we had tea together, and met the Beans. I feel 
 now as if I did write before about all this, no matter. 
 On Tuesday we had a laughable expedition with 
 Madame Kirsch. I wrote Carry Bursley a letter 
 about this, which she Avill show to you, but not make 
 public. She brought her omnibus to our hotel, and 
 we all climbed in. Miss Homer, Mrs. Bean, Madame 
 herself, me, Nora, — five fat fools of middle age, and 
 we went to see some Spanish dancers and afterwards, 
 the Moorish bath. Then we went all about the Arab 
 town and saw houses' insides, etc. I may have said 
 to you that, all these sights are less genuine than our 
 visits to Hassan's wives, and such. Here there is 
 
306 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 always quelque chose de redame, the things got iTp to 
 appear Arab to foreigners, and the cinquante-centinie 
 business, or more likely vingt-francs, appears through- 
 out. We got back to the hotel about four, and Nora, 
 untiring, went out again to ransack shops. I was in 
 fevers from finding the Henns' cards, lest I had 
 missed them, and an immense bunch of violets from 
 Henn, and I saw before the hotel door their funny 
 little trap with the prancing pony. So I stirred not 
 from the spot till Henns returned, after a long ab- 
 sence from their trap, when they came in, and we 
 had the nicest, long, confidential talk in the entresol 
 salon of the hotel. They are very dear, affectionate 
 people, and it seems they were disappointed not to 
 have me staying with them. . . . 
 
 Meanwhile, Tuesday, Nora and I lunched at the 
 fish-shop, which is my joy and delight, and she liked 
 it just as much. You sit in the dark before this great 
 arch, and eat crevettes and fish and entrecote, with a 
 bottle of some wine, and outside is the blank white 
 wall of the mosque near the sea; but between, is a 
 great broad staircase, public, down and up which 
 goes everything, Turks, donkeys, Jews, Arabs, dogs, 
 women, Rag-bags, sailors of all nations. Women, sell- 
 ing parrots and monkeys, live on these stairs, and 
 below make a living tending cockles and mussels and 
 snails, which nobody seems ever to buy, in little 
 dishes. Musicians twangled and sang-led naughty 
 French songs, cats came out from behind boats and 
 ate entrails of fish, a man brought violets I bought 
 for a sou or so. About one o'clock we saw grand 
 muftis, all done up in clean turbans, with arrogant 
 burnouses over their shoulders, go sailing into the 
 mosque, so we went in on our way home, and found 
 the same with their shoes off, kneeling before Kaabas. 
 We like that, Nora and I, and, in fact, we did the 
 same for luncheon the next day, only sitting up-stairs 
 
MATUNUCK, ATEW YORK, EUROPE 307 
 
 over the arch. That day, Wednesday, v,e meant to 
 go to Point Pescade to luncheon, on the border of the 
 sea, where often Mrs. Church and I drove, a beauti- 
 ful sort of Cornice drive. But our traTn a vapeur 
 only stopped at St. Eugene, and wouldn't go any 
 farther. I^ora was a little displeased with me for 
 not knowing this at my birth, but I didn't, so we 
 walked round a little, watching the waves, and then 
 got on the front of a stray bus and came back to town. 
 They had a small, loose lamb under our seat running 
 round amongst our legs. Nora bought more things 
 that P.M., and I got a copper jug, — either then or 
 previously. 'Now came Thursday, a day of hurry 
 and worry. My gown came not home from Gaze till 
 the last minute. Nora still wanted to do things, and 
 we actually were on the bus to go out and limch once 
 more at Kirsch, when it came over me that I could n't 
 and would n't spend all that time, get tired, see all the 
 Kirsch folks again, after saying good-bye once, so I 
 broke loose, and jumped off the bus, and came back 
 to hotel, very luckily in time to pay Gaze, finish my 
 trunks, and be all calm when the steamer arrived 
 sooner, at one instead of three, o'clock. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Hotel. Nettuno, February J^, 1897. 
 deae LUC, — Now must tell all about my Lucca 
 expedition, because it was wonderful. You must 
 know, the evening before, i. e., Monday, I was sitting 
 in my red bear, playing Fooley Ann in my huge 
 chamber, with two tall, dim candles, when by a knock, 
 there was suddenly ushered in upon me a beautiful 
 youth, looking something like Will Chamberlin at 
 twenty-one, who was Francesco Maggi, come from his 
 
308 LETTERS OF SUSA:^ HALE 
 
 mother, Signora Catemia Maggi, to say slie was 
 afraid it was going to be cattivo tempo next day, 
 and what did I think about going to Lncca. 
 "Cecco" (she calls him) thought it much wiser not 
 to go if it piovei'-ed very much, and I fully agreed 
 with him, so it was settled that unless there was a de- 
 cided change in the weather we should n't start. At 
 least, I think that is what we said, but you can't be 
 always sure in a strange language. It poured as I 
 went to letto and I confess I prayed to all my gods 
 that it might continue, and so avert a difficult experi- 
 ence (but I 'm delighted that we could go). Tuesday 
 morning at the otto when Esther brought il mio 
 hagno with this beautiful copper jug containing the 
 " acqua f reddo," it was pouring ; so I did n't hurry 
 the coffee or anything, which came eight-fifteen. But 
 when I had all finished and looked out, it was just 
 stopping, though Pisa below was still splashing 
 through puddles with wet umbrellas, and I thought 
 it would be a shame if Signora should take the trouble 
 to come for me, not to be ready, so I dressed wholly, 
 fixed money, gloves and all, then leaned again from 
 my window. It was ten minutes of nine, and a neat 
 signora in black was walking along rather fast below. 
 " JSTow if she turns the corner," I thought, " I '11 put 
 on my bonnet. If she goes along Lung Allio it ain't 
 Signora." She turned the corner, and I was pinning 
 on my bonnet when Signora Maggi appeared at my 
 door. She is a dear. She looks a little like Augusta 
 Hooper, the Bursley cousin, but she is gentler. Her 
 breeding was perfect all day, and so enduring. We 
 started down, discommanding my fuoco for which 
 the legno was just coming up-stairs, and took a 
 carozza for the station, and a second-class carriage 
 for Lucca, where two men were in uniform, that we 
 talked with all the way, about viaggio sul mare in 
 grand vapores. 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 309 
 
 It 's about three-quarters of an hour to Lucca, snow 
 on the green fields all along. I asked what the 
 alheri were, and seems they are mulberries, and 
 she told me all about the process, and she says it's 
 perfectly lovely to see the worms gobbling the leaves. 
 "Ain't it heUisimof she said, turning to the men, 
 "great, fat, white worms as long as your finger, they 
 seem to enjoy it so ! " It was sloppy at Lucca, the 
 station outside the walls. We had umbrellas and my 
 fur cape ; she had a muff. We walked briskly into 
 the town and to the prefettura in the Grand Ducal 
 Palazzo, where she had a friend. She knows all the 
 Fullums and police officers and George Clarkes in the 
 place, as well as dukes and duchesses, and if she don't, 
 she says, "io Maggi" and they lift up their hats. 
 We were waiting it seems for a friend of hers who 
 has an offizio in the prefettura, and he came down- 
 stairs with a great key, and unlocked the rooms (still 
 in Ducal Palace) of the Pinacotheka. Some interest- 
 ing pictures, not remarkably so. Guercino and Era 
 Bartolomeo, and one or two fine portraits (said to 
 be), by certain masters. A duchessa was copying an 
 ugly little picture of the Dutch School. It was the 
 picture of a little man Avith a big head, surrounded 
 by pots and pans, and she had made the head too big, 
 so it came do\\Ti below the middle of the picture. 
 But no matter, she was a duchessa and enjoying her- 
 self, — a girl about twenty, I should think. There 
 was a portrait of Eliza Bachiochi, the sister of Na- 
 poleon, don't you know, he gave her the Principality 
 of Lucca. What cheek ! She is all fine robes and a 
 coronet, quite different from the clothes she brought 
 from Ajacico. The condottore of Institute of Belli 
 Arti, came and was presented to me, and showed me 
 pictures, as did the cu^todiano. Then we came out 
 and said good-bye to these friends, and went to the 
 Cathedral. 
 
310 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I was already enchanted with the little town, 
 though piles of nieve were in the streets. The 
 Cathedral front is very beautiful, all carved. We 
 went in, and within it is beautiful also, very narrow 
 with lofty columns. It was a feast day for the Ma- 
 donna or somebody, and high mass, with lots of 
 candles, and music going on, and oh, my dear, such 
 beautiful music. I have never happened to hear any 
 very wonderful church music. This was a full or- 
 chestra (besides organ) of violins, wind instruments, 
 led with a snap by a fine conductor, besides full 
 chorus of voices, and solos by a delicious tenor, as if 
 Jean de Reszke himself were there, a good baritone, 
 and a soprano I thought to be some prima donna 
 from opera, but it was the voce bianca of a boy! 
 We just sate down and listened, for, I should think, 
 two hours. I have seldom been so moved by music ; 
 it was passionate, emotional, though coming back to 
 fugues and, so to speak, " sacred " movements, to fit 
 the service, — it soared round the arches ; the violins 
 were fine, violas, — like a regular Higginson concert, 
 only up on the side of a cathedral. Meanwhile the 
 service was going on, archbishop and people in lace 
 night gowns bustling round the mantelpiece, rows of 
 priests holding candles, and little boys skurrying 
 about, the tea-bell ringing, and everybody kneeling 
 for the Host. This never impresses me at all, but 
 the grand music was soaring above it all. I enjoyed 
 it intensely. 
 
 This was rather funny : We waited after mass was 
 over to see the sacristan about precious objects, and 
 could see into the sacristy where all, thirty or forty, 
 the worthy priests were now taking off their little 
 lace-trimmed camisoles and their quilted petticoats; 
 each stood in front of his own high cupboard, and 
 was hurrying off his things and folding them up to 
 put away, just like Mary Hurlbut, very particular. 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 311 
 
 each. It seemed to be which should get through first. 
 Then they shut their cupboards with a bang and came 
 out transformed into respectable, elderly gentlemen, 
 like Mr. R. C. Winthrop, took their umbrellas and 
 walked away. 
 
 I now hinted to Signora that I was beginning to 
 feel hungry. She nodded as if to say, " I 'm with 
 you," and led the way to the best restaurant in town, 
 where it was nice and warm with a stove (church cold 
 as a barn), and we had jesting about ordering the 
 colazione. (I paid for everything, this was arranged 
 by Dr. Layfield.) The garqon and Signora asked me 
 if I liked caccia, and caccia proved to be larks and 
 veccaficos, so we had them, but so small that I added 
 beefsteak with salad, excellent. We had soup and 
 risotto first. It then appeared that our train didn't 
 return till six-forty-five ! and here it was about one ! 
 But the Sie:nora had her plan; she took me to a 
 friend's house where there was a pretty room on a 
 balcony, with a bed ! ! and Signora there left me for 
 two hours, while she ran round town seeing her 
 friends. I slept like a top, and woke up wondering 
 where I might be, as I stared at the flower-frescoed 
 ceiling, jumped up, and wrote a note to Russell Sulli- 
 van, w^ho had recommended Lucca, to tell him I was 
 delighted with it, only in despair at being torn away 
 from it so soon. 
 
 The Signora now took me round the town; to 
 Palazzo Manci, one of the most beautiful, Avhere she 
 rang the bell, said " io Maggi" and we were admitted 
 to the picture-gallery. Chiefly Dutch pictures, and 
 portraits de famiglia. About five she let me get 
 into a legno vnth. her, and accomplish my longing, 
 viz., to drive round the town up on the battlements ! 
 You can't think how splendid it is ! There are trees, 
 great old sycamores, up there just like Beacon Street 
 Mall, only it's away up on top of the walls, which 
 
312 LETTEES OF SUSAI^T HALE 
 
 slope down within the city all green ; the road up 
 there, broad for several carriages, with side-walks 
 under the trees and seats looking off on the mountains 
 and plains, or back down on the town, or across it, to 
 the Cathedral and other towers. Never was anything 
 so delightful, and, lo! the sun broke loose and set 
 brilliantly just as we were leaving it. It is three 
 miles to drive round the whole ; we had a nice driver. 
 We then went back to friend's house, and hugged 
 scaldini to our stomachs, while daughter played and 
 sung very well. Then, pitch dark, walked to the 
 stazione, and arrived here at 8 p. m. most dead, but 
 happy. I never talked so much Italian in my life. 
 More in my next. 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 ISTaples, Fehruary 6, 1897. 
 
 DEAR LUCRETIA, — It 's lovcly here. See? I am 
 fronting Vesuvius right over there. The sun re- 
 sumed its place of rising as at Algiers, and I have 
 been sitting in my sunny balcony, till the stone step 
 of it got rather hard, and I got rather too warm. 
 Eor it 's delightful and warm here, and I 'm in my 
 foulard dressage, instead of red bear. Last night 
 when all the little lights came out round this curve 
 and up the hill, I felt as if I myself were a (highly 
 coloured) part of one of those highly coloured pic- 
 tures of Naples that we 've always been seeing from 
 childhood up, with Vesuvius lighted just like a cigar. 
 He is rather covered with clouds, but smoking away 
 right here. . . . 
 
 Now as Baedekers say: For Route Pisa-to-Naples 
 consult — Anne Bursley's last which I wrote her yes- 
 terday. It depicts the trajet hither, after which I 
 take up. 
 
MATUI^UCK, NEW YOKK, EUEOPE 313 
 
 The Stazione Centrale is as far certainly as 39 
 Highland Street from Eastern R. R. Station. Omni- 
 bus took forever to get here through streets very much 
 like New York, only over here, there are always amaz- 
 ing sights, the women bare-headed ; one lady walking 
 along with her husband, taking his arm while he had 
 a large, flat basket of fruit on his head. Little donkey 
 moving a family, with all the furniture piled on a 
 great long cart, the lady of the house sitting up be- 
 hind, and the gentleman driving the little donkey. 
 Immense, great ugly wreaths of beautiful flowers 
 stifily arranged, carried about by flower- venders. 
 Finally we came out on this long Piazza Umberto, 
 and I reached my room very soon. They were ex- 
 pecting me here, and handed out three or four letters 
 (from B. F. Stevens, Nora Godwin, May Davis). I 
 sent a messenger at once to old W. J. Turner for my 
 American letters, — but fully expected to wait, and 
 half expected some blunder would prevent his send- 
 ing them thus. So I had coffee in my room, and then 
 a warm bath in a luxurious marble receptacle, where 
 I could float, it was so deep, with all sorts of big and 
 small linge. Thence I came back and climbed into 
 a high and excellent bed, while a grindage played 
 (and is playing now) yanky (not Yankee) waltzes 
 below. But though tired, I was rather excited, espe- 
 cially as other letters kept tapping at the door, and 
 chiefly the one I have been in sore need of, from Carry 
 Weld, settling all about our meeting at Messina, 
 Hotel Victoria, February 14, to go at once to Taor- 
 mina, the loveliest spot on earth. So now I have only 
 to keep very calm and stay on here till it 's time to 
 cross 'twixt " Scilly and Charib " to Messina. Why 
 I am here is that it seemed the best headquarters for 
 letters, and in case of doubt, C. Weld was most likely 
 . to \^Tite me here, or be here herself. 
 
 So at 10 A. :m. I came out of bed and began to dress, 
 
314 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 when tap again at the door, little smiling messenger 
 boy from Turner with great bunch of sixteen letters 
 from America, besides a New England magazine from 
 Papa. Imagine me settling in excellent arm-chair 
 in the sun, alongside of Vesuvius, and going through 
 the whole batch. Such nice ones, — and you know, 
 I 've been all this time sort of out in the wilderness. 
 I now felt warmed and clothed about with civilisa- 
 tion, and indeed affection; coming to this great city 
 hotel is the way I feel when I finally abandon Matu- 
 nuck and my farouche solitude, and come up at mid- 
 night to Thorndike, a good, warm room, electric, a 
 milk punch, good bed, and above all, letters from you 
 and other constituents. So now I sate and read and 
 read. It took an hour to read them through the first 
 time. . . . 
 
 I was perfectly sure coming to this perfectly re- 
 spectable house that somebody I knew would be here, 
 and as I had seen no soul I ever saw before since part- 
 ing from Nora Godwin, and had talked nothing but 
 haythen languages, I was quite ripe to drop into the 
 arms of the first American. As in Eooley Ann, you 
 wonder what card near the bottom of the thirteen it 
 will be to come to the rescue and win the game, so at 
 one, time for lunch, as I entered the great big sola, 
 open to the top of the hotel, glassed over there, big 
 palms growing in it, where folks read their news- 
 papers and take coffee at little marble tables, I won- 
 dered who it would be: — Ernest Longfellow and 
 Mrs., sitting there, waiting for luncheon. This was 
 a very nice card. They are delighted to see me, 
 rather bored by themselves, and as we are always 
 meeting in strange countries, quite natural. They at 
 once had me put with them at the table, and invited 
 me to their charming parlour. I feel most respectable 
 under their wing, and, indeed, I like them much. . . . 
 
 I don't mean to go up Pompeii or down Vesuvius 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 315 
 
 or any of those things. Amalfi is lovely, and the 
 Longfellows are the priests thereof, but I think 1 
 stay right here, write my letters, look out of window, 
 go to see all the Pompeii things in the Museo right 
 here, and enjoy the luxuries of first-class living at 
 three dollars a day, — 't is but a week, and then, ho ! 
 for Messina. I am quite reconciled to the Sicily 
 plan. Carry \Yeld is so cordial, and so longing to see 
 me. After that I shall just go on to Cannes and see 
 my nice people at Hotel de la Plage. They have 
 written me, — I mean the gentlemanly proprietor 
 and his wife, who love me, and urge me to do so. 
 Then Paris for a week, then London, Stevens' for a 
 week, and then home to arrive about the middle of 
 May. Just laying out the plan makes it seem as 
 if it were over already ! So no more now. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Cannes, March U, 1897. 
 Such a delicious drive, and you with me (un- 
 awares) through country roads, and every tree just 
 flushed with sheen, the first minute of real spring- 
 time, poplars and willows and oaks and sycamores 
 and maples with hanging things, and ladies stepping 
 out of green fields with great bunches of red flowers, 
 yellow flowers, blue, purple, white flowers, and a 
 river with clear water sparkling over stones, and the 
 earth smelling newly ploughed, and the lawn-cutters 
 making hay smells, and the Golf Club, and caddies 
 caddying and putters puttering and toads toadying 
 and Dukes and Princes and Counts counting, and the 
 Grand Duke of Russia and sa femme in a carriage, 
 and the blue sea sparkling, and the Jar din Publique 
 with music, and little boys dra^vn in carts, and 
 donkeys with side-saddles, and English women hold- 
 
316 LETTEKS OF SUSAI^ HALE 
 
 ing up their petticoats to the skin, and fish shining in 
 the fish-markets, and small boats everywhere, and 
 Britannia ruling the waves. Hurry up and come 
 before it is all gone by. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 AND 
 
 Miss M. L. Goddaed 
 Cannes, Tuesday, March 31, 1897. 
 An Adventure 
 
 My dears, I am all entirely and completely packed, 
 my trunk is locked, my strap is rolled, only the little 
 Angel is yawning to receive these writing materials 
 when I am done, and there's lots of time. JSTo en- 
 trecote a la Caroline et Bearnaise this time, but the 
 ordinary lunch of commerce, — and off in the bus to 
 the train. 
 
 N^ow you see, yesterday we had engaged Lambert 
 for the day. Lambert 's the beautiful, who looks and 
 is exactly like Charley Longfellow, viewed from the 
 marine side of him, and would he not have been hap- 
 pier, the real old Charles (?) if he had earned his liv- 
 ing sailing round this bay in the best boat of all, and 
 winning every prize for fast sailing, as he did last 
 Sunday, for the Alsace and Lorraine, his nice, neat, 
 pretty boat, that goes like the wind. These boats 
 have two masts, Louisa, a large sail, and a small one 
 on the after-mast. They have comfortable seats and 
 neat cushions in the standing room, and crickets for 
 feet. 
 
 So not much after eight, as I was finishing my 
 coffee, Lambert came to the bedroom door to know 
 if ces dames intended to go. I suggested it was 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YOEK, EUEOPE 317 
 
 raining at the moment, but he said it was " un gram 
 seulement," and, lo ! the boat was already before my 
 window, bobbing up and down, with the American 
 flag, in my honour, floating from the mast. I may as 
 well tell you that this boat proved to be the Ville de 
 Londres, and this Lambert, the brother of Charles 
 Longfellow, on account of Lambert's great preoccupa- 
 tions in connection with winning the prize the day 
 before ; but Lambert's brother is almost as beautiful 
 as Lambert. So by and by Mrs. Braham got through 
 her coffee and came down, and all the household took 
 our wraps or came to the door, and Mr. and Mrs. 
 Thompson waved from their window, and we crossed 
 the boulevard to the beach, and walked across a plank 
 to the Yille de Londres. Did I tell you about Mrs. 
 Braham? She is a most excellent, stout, little Eng- 
 lish lady from Streatham. I take her along with me 
 on these drives and sails, for she perfectly delights in 
 them, helps the paying part, and is a worthy agree- 
 able companion, very well bred, an immense prattler, 
 but quite intelligent. 
 
 The day began to be beautiful, such blue sky and 
 fleecy clouds, and though he had to row at first, the 
 wind soon sprang up and we were clipping along, 
 with one rail down, and the waves bumping against 
 the prow. I always sit up in the bow against the fore- 
 mast, and little Mrs. Braham was planted at the 
 stern, her short legs firmly clinging to a footstool, and 
 perfectly happy. I can't tell you how beautiful the 
 receding town is, with its hills at the back and pretty 
 villas, and soon les Alpes muritimes rising in the 
 background, snow-covered and shining in the sun. 
 We sailed past Isle St. Marguerite and soon came 
 along to St. Honorat; already they had reefed the 
 mainsail and taken in a small one, and we rushed 
 along on the outward tack like mad, then went about 
 and anchored in the sweetest haven, deep emerald 
 
318 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 water amongst rocks, on a shore all pine trees, car- 
 peted with brown pine needles, a small cabaret, the 
 only house, and little tables set out with benches 
 before it, under the trees and close to the sparkling 
 water. Great big splendid parasol pines, there are. 
 
 So while our lunch was preparing, Mrs. Braham 
 and I walked all round the island, under the pines, 
 to an old castle there is, where Francis I was impris- 
 oned a while after Pavia, and along to the grounds of 
 a monastery, where old monks make (and drink) a 
 kind of Chartreuse; and through their fields, rather 
 neglected, but all the better for poppies and calen- 
 dulas and dandelions and borage; and when we got 
 back the lunch was ready, and we ate our beloved 
 oysters, and a very good chop, and pommes, with a 
 bottle of Sauterne, all out under the great pines, and 
 the hens came and ate the fragments. It was per- 
 fectly beautiful on account of sparkling whitecaps 
 on the crests of the intensely peacock waves, and this 
 was because the wind, my dears, was rising, and this 
 is where the adventure part begins. 
 
 Well, just then came along Lambert, his black eyes 
 very big, and said that this was a mistral that was 
 blowing, and getting stronger every moment, and that 
 it would be impossible to leave the island then (as 
 intended), and that we must wait and see, — if ces 
 dames would forgive him, as it really wasn't his 
 fault. So these dames were very amiable, and found 
 a sheltered place to sit and watch the proceedings. 
 The house wasn't appetising, and Lambert and his 
 friends were playing backgammon inside in the chief 
 room, but we found a pile of bricks, or rather tiles, 
 waiting to be a roof, which made a fairly comfortable 
 sofa, and perfect shelter from the wind, and there we 
 sate and prattled and watched the glorious waves in 
 the narrow channel. After a time I stirred about, and 
 confess was a bit disturbed to perceive that the Ville 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 319 
 
 de Londres was gone, no sign of her at her moorings, 
 but Mrs. Braham took it comfortably, and prattled 
 away, and pretty soon Lambert appeared from a re- 
 mote part of the island and. said they had been obliged 
 to mettre the boat d terre. I thought if it had actu- 
 ally come to burying the boat in the ground, things 
 were getting pretty bad; he said there was no hope 
 to return in the boat that night ! but that the vapeur 
 which runs daily from Cannes, on excursions, was 
 due at two, and that ces dames had better go back in 
 the vapeur, and moreover, in case the vapeur didn't 
 come out, as was quite possible, in such a tempest, he 
 had already engaged two lits for these dames at the 
 cabaret, the only ones there were. This was all rather 
 startling, especially as it was now three and no signs 
 of the vapeur. Half a dozen excursionists (pic- 
 nickers) turned up, and began to stroll round in an 
 anxious manner, looking towards the mainland, 
 where was no sign of a vapeur, or anything else, for 
 that matter. I suggested to Mrs. Braham that as we 
 had the two lits we should go and lie on them for a 
 while, — but it seemed they were not prepared and 
 could n't be till night, which augured ill for their ex- 
 cellence. However, we settled down on our brick 
 sofa again with great cheerfulness. Mrs. B. was a 
 dandy, she didn't fuss nor worry nor wonder what 
 would happen, but prattled away in a pleasing man- 
 ner, while I dozed. Now came along Lambert say- 
 ing that they thought they could get the boat to the 
 Golfe Inan, and that if these dames like to risk it 
 they could go, too, and take the train there back to 
 Cannes. This was something like sailing for New 
 Bedford from Nahant, when your home is in New- 
 buryport, — still you know there is a train from New 
 Bedford. The wind, he said, would be favourable 
 for Golfe Inan, whereas hopeless to tack in the teeth 
 of it, to Cannes. " But can you take the boat out of 
 
320 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 the ground ? " " Oh, yes, madame, toute de suite." 
 He now said that two other dames were very anxious 
 about getting back, they came in the vapeur, and it 
 might not arrive, so did I mind if they came along 
 with us ? " JSTot at all, I '11 go and ask them," said I, 
 and here comes the excellent episode of the English. 
 I went up to rather a nice-looking gentlewoman. 
 " Vous etes Frangaise ? " " Non, je suis Anglaise." 
 " Alors" said I, "we will speak English. I have 
 my boat here and we are going back in it, to Golfe 
 Inan, to take the train to Cannes. We should be glad 
 to have you come, too, if you like." " Euogh, but 
 you know we came in the steamer." " Yes, I know, 
 but the steamer is now overdue, and no signs of it, 
 and there seems a chance of having to spend the night 
 here, which would n't be very pleasant." " Euogh, 
 reely, but where did you come from ? " she said. " I 
 came from Cannes," said I, rather coolly, for I was 
 getting tired of this. "Did you, really, but I did 
 not see you on the steamer." " JSTo," said I, " because 
 I came in my own boat, with this man, and we are 
 waiting to know if you would like to go back with 
 us." " I should n't think of doing such a thing with- 
 out consulting my friend," said she, and without a 
 word of thanks turned on her heel and walked off. I 
 was madder than thunder. " Come along, Lambert," 
 said I, and we hurried to the remote place where the 
 boat was, jDicking up Mrs. Braham, to whom I related 
 the rudeness of her countrywoman. She was much 
 more enraged than I was. 
 
 The boat was in a snug little cove, its sails neatly 
 folded, but our two men with a friend had her out in 
 a trice, and we were just stepping on board, when 
 along came the English women, two of them, with 
 their man. They came up and without a word to us 
 began bargaining with Lambert. " Comhiang de 
 tong faut-il pour alter au terrc ? " said the man, very 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 321 
 
 rudely, as to a menial. " Une demie heure/^ said 
 Lambert. " But can you guarantee that there 's no 
 risk ? " the man began ; I stepped into the boat, " Par- 
 tons, Lambert, nous navons pas de temps a perdre,^' 
 and in a flash we were off, the sails shaken out, and 
 going like a shot toward the land, leaving the three 
 English gawping on the rocks. 
 
 Mrs. Braham haughtily settled herself in her 
 wrap, glancing up at the English, "You'd much 
 better wait for your steamer ; I dare say it will pick 
 you up by and by," in the most patronising manner. 
 Set an English to snub an English. As we sailed 
 away, Mrs. B. remarked, "!Nasty things, I hope 
 they '11 be drowned." 
 
 But as for us, we flew, and under the lee of St. 
 Marguerite's had none too much wind, and when we 
 came near Golfe Inan it proved that after all we 
 could face the breeze and sail all along the bay to our 
 own port, which we reached in perfect safety about 
 five, just as the sky was setting to work on a glorious 
 red sunset. To Mrs. Braham's regret, we saw the 
 little tug on its way to the island, long after we got 
 back to our comfortable rooms and pretty windows ; 
 we saw the little vapeur labouring painfully with the 
 waves, and the English, no doubt, into port. 
 
 Meanwhile, everybody here had been watching the 
 mistral, which made everything fly on land, — dust, 
 brickbats; and when we came back, gargons and por- 
 ters hastened to meet us to know our adventures. 
 "We were most lucky in having landed on the island 
 before the blow began, for as it happened, nothing 
 really happened, and we were quits, with a little bit 
 of a scare. But I laugh whenever I think of those 
 English, and of Mrs. Braham's disgust at 'em. . . . 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
322 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Pakis, France, April 11, 1897. 
 
 Oh! my dears, how nice to get your letter this 
 morning just when I was whetting my pen to write 
 to you, and now you are in Nice, which saves ten 
 centimes on the postage ; but, alas ! after this I shall 
 be diminishing in the distance, and these delightful 
 letters won't be half so good to write or read. But 
 you try to keep it up a little, won't you ? and I will 
 write voluminously from the briny deep. All you 
 say is most interesting. Our weather the same here, 
 viz., horrid for a day or two, sloppy, rainy, raw, cold, 
 but now it 's turned good, I do believe, and excellent 
 to run about in. Marronniers all green with buds 
 about to burst, and lilacs in all the stalls, and yellow 
 flowers. Oh ! Paris is enchanting, it goes straight 
 to my head, and I wish I could be here a month. . . . 
 
 There was a note from Mrs. Greene, by which I 
 went on Wednesday to see the dear lady. She is 
 white, diaphanous, like a pale leaf quivering to go, 
 slightly deaf, but most lovely. There was a horrid 
 woman there boring her about the Pope and young 
 American women, and wanting money, who, the more 
 she saw we wanted to be alone, went on the more 
 about the Pope, but we had a nice talk all the same, 
 and I am going again to-day at three. She is im- 
 mensely interested in my trip with you. She says 
 she is eighty-one. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 323 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 AND 
 
 Miss Mary E. Williams 
 Stjebiton, Easter Sunday, April 18, 1897. 
 
 MY dear girls, MAMIE AND CARLA, I WaS On the 
 
 edge of writing you, and in comes Mamie's " splahn- 
 did " letter of April 8, so I will direct this to her, for 
 you two were in my mind so much in Paris ! I was 
 nearly crazy, and kept asking myself why I had 
 wasted a minute elsewhere. Let's go and live in 
 Paris. I long to hire a small apartment, throw in a 
 few meuhles, such fun to buy them, then keep house, 
 run out and buy a nice duck, some green peas, fat 
 strawberries, and a little cream cheese, and a bunch of 
 wall-flowers, ^^1lat more could one ask ! Oh ! it was 
 just lovely. We were at rue de Beaune, No. 5, — 
 " we " was Nora Godwin, who came up to Paris with 
 me. She is a funny companion for me, for she is 
 by the way of being gloomy, at times, and that bores 
 me, because I am so ridiculously cheerful, which 
 bores her. However, we get on finely, and it 's a con- 
 venience to be with somebody, and we were perfectly 
 independent of each other. 
 
 There was the river, whenever we came out of our 
 little street, and the Pont Royal just opposite, and 
 horses trot-trot, and great omnibuses, and bateaux 
 mouches shooting under, and Paris men with tall 
 hats and canes and pointed toes, and women in felt 
 slippers holding up their petticoats to the arm-pits, 
 and little boys going to school, — it made me wild. 
 Of course, I went to see dear Mrs. Greene, and twice 
 walked back all the way through Champs Elysees, the 
 horse-chestnut trees in full leaf, and the blossoms 
 about to come out. It was horse-show, and the Rond 
 Point chockful of waiting carriages and staring 
 
324 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 crowds and footmen wading in tall boots and buttons, 
 and grandes dames with flaring hats piled high with 
 flowers, fruit, and game, and four-in-hands with 
 outriders. 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 SuEBiTON, April 26, 1897. 
 (8 A.M. In hed.) 
 
 DEAREST OF CAROLINES, — ISTow this is really my 
 last will and testament before leaving this side the 
 Atlantic, for I shall be on my legs every mortal in- 
 stant minute from now till I start on Thursday. I 
 have your good letter of Easter Sunday. It disgusts 
 me to have you in those places without me. Perhaps 
 to-day you are starting on your drive. I wish Kumpf 
 would take me more seriously. Why should she 
 laugh at the mere back of a letter from me ? How- 
 ever, I think of her with the greatest affection, and 
 so you may say. 
 
 Oh, heavens ! the things I have done and seen here. 
 I would that my pen could utter the thoughts that 
 arise in me. Chief of all was our great expedition 
 to Winchester, which dear old B. F. Stevens (here 
 comes my breakfast, but, by the way, my cold is 
 about well, and I am in fine condition, only it 's the 
 custom of the country to wallow mornings) contrived 
 for me. We went to Salisbury by train, and then 
 drove in open carriage nearly all the way to Winches- 
 ter, through such lanes! The party was six of us, 
 two parsons, English, loaded to the muzzle with 
 archeology, two stray Vermonters, with B. F. Stevens 
 and myself, all but me men, and smoking incessantly. 
 We stopped every mile or two to see an old church or 
 something, and my head is still full of early perpen- 
 dicular and tumble-down Norman, not to speak of 
 Elizabethan and Jacobean and Gothic and reredoses 
 
MATUNUCK, NEW YORK, EUROPE 325 
 
 and chantries and sepulchres and saints. Those old 
 churches are wonderfully interesting, but what I 
 really and truly delight in is the hedgerows all full 
 of primroses with violets alongside of 'em, blackthorn 
 all in blossom, full of blackbirds, turf so thick your 
 foot sinks in it, holly hedges with the berries still on, 
 and around each Cathedral its beautiful grounds 
 with immense gTeat trees, all a sheen of promise just 
 now, and that soft veil of English atmosphere between 
 everything, so to speak. The weather was perfect, 
 just like English water-colours, fluffy white clouds 
 with chunks of blue between. It 's Constable's coun- 
 try, you know, and everything looked like his pic- 
 tures, which I had just been seeing over again, in the 
 National Gallery. We stopped for tea and bread and 
 butter at old inns with swinging signs; lunched at 
 " the Angel " and " took our doles " of beer and bread 
 at the gateway of St. Cross Hospital, where it has 
 been dispensed daily since the year 1 b. c. The top 
 of every hill is a Roman camp; King Alfred wrote 
 the ten commandments in the ruins of Wolvesey, now 
 a mass of wall-flowers and walls. Everything that 
 Henry VIII spared was destroyed by Cromwell, 
 and Dean Kitchen has WTitten up the whole business. 
 You see my little head has got somewhat mixed, and 
 I laugh whenever I think of the condition of Stone, 
 a callow youth that went with us, from St. Johnsbury, 
 Vermont, his first outing away from his Ma. He 
 sailed next day for America on the Saint Paul, and 
 he thinks he is going to " write this up " for the " St. 
 Johnsbury Caledonian.'''^ Ha! ha! By the way, 
 Jane Austen, novelist, died at Winchester. I saw her 
 house. The present Dean, a dear man with his legs 
 all buttoned up in reverential gaiters, invited us to 
 come and see his stable, which is where the pilgrims 
 of " Canterbury Tales " used to stop. 
 
 We put up for the night at "The George," Winches- 
 
326 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 ter, an excellent hotel, with electric and all modern 
 comforts engrafted on the old place, which keeps 
 great old fireplace we could sit in, and the old gal- 
 leries from Shakespeare's time; the bed I slept in 
 three miles square, or thereabouts. My, but it was 
 good after all that standing round. 
 
 This is but a small pattern of the things I Ve been 
 doing, amongst others running round Regent Street 
 and spending my last guinea on a nice little cape at 
 Scott Adies (not half so big as Louisa's), acquiring 
 the English language, and learning to drop my 
 Haitch (H.). B. F. Stevens is a most dear man; if 
 you are in London, make his acquaintance and order 
 your books of him, 4 Trafalgar Square. 
 
 Last evening in the long twilight we strolled along 
 the Thames toward Hampton Court, oh, so pretty. 
 I 've got a great cabin all to myself, on Mobile, with 
 two port-holes, very likely open all the way, — and 
 expect a good voyage, for which I am laying in books, 
 sewing, and ^vriting materials ; — to reach 'N. Y. 
 May 10. I shall think of you lying off at Bellagio, 
 but don't neglect to mend your catarrh at Ems, or 
 somewhere, and come home, dear, in the fall. I 
 shall continue to write, but it won't be the same 
 thing. . . . Lots of love to both from 
 
 Susie. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 BOSTON, ISTEW YORK, CALIFORNIA, 
 MADEIRA, MATUNUCK 
 
 (1898-1902) 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 September 19, 1897. 
 ... I had to go to town on account of my cele- 
 brated back-tooth, which has been a source of income 
 to dentists since 1833. It finally broke off and came 
 out one day lately, and I repaired to Piper to have 
 it repaired. He got into my mouth along with a pick- 
 axe and telescope, battering-ram and other instru- 
 ments, and drove a lawn-cutting machine up and 
 down my jaws for a couple of hours. When he came 
 out he said he meant wonderful improvements, and 
 it seems I 'm to have a bridge and a mill-wheel and 
 summit and crown of gold, and harps, and Lord 
 knows what, better than new. After this, and to 
 comfort me for not being able to bite anything but 
 the inside of my cheek, George took me to Hoyt's 
 '' Black Sheep," of which the scene is a bar-room in 
 Tombstone, Arizona, and coming home, we went 
 through the new Touraine, Young's Hotel, on the 
 corner (opposite Pelham), which was all blown up 
 last year, you know. It is perfectly gorgeous. 
 Kings don't know what they are talking about when 
 they speak of living in palaces. This is really beau- 
 tifully furnished, you pass from Louis Quatorze to 
 Elizabeth Rococo, all hung with Ambuson and Or- 
 
328 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 molia. There is a great library with real books bound 
 in calf, and make-believe old gentlemen sitting read- 
 ing in them. Then we took a compass to Park Street 
 and came home through the Subway. Lord ! such a 
 wonder. Broad steps lead down to the bowels of the 
 burying-ground, but there it is all white and brilliant 
 and spotless clean ; a wind sweeps through the chasm, 
 and open cars and shut cars, Brookline cars and Res- 
 ervoir, shoot to and fro ; you spring on, and with one 
 dash whirl through an avenue of sparkling lights to 
 the feet of Charles Sumner, where you are once more 
 unearthed, and all for five cents, in three minutes. 
 'Tis wonderful; methinks my father's hair would 
 stand on end to see the sight. 
 
 All the women were haggard in waterproofs with 
 bags, running in and out of Jordan and Marsh when 
 I woke up the next morning. I bought two linen 
 collars, and tried on a black silk gown Bolger is mak- 
 ing, and came away. 
 
 I was glad to get back here, and to my little flock 
 and my cold lamb. But must go to-morrow to finish 
 the tooth works. My mind turns me now to clothes, 
 for I have been so long living in shirt-waists, I feel 
 as if I might break in two at the body-line like a 
 wasp. I long for a whole garment in one piece. 
 Little we reck here of the outside world, so look ye 
 for gossip to your other correspondents. ISTow here 
 endeth the first lesson, for I 've a chance to mail this, 
 by my gilt-edged ladies going to church. So bless 
 you every one. This may reach you at Prague or 
 Vienna. My! can't I get into the envelope myself? 
 Write, write. 
 
 YouK LOVING Susie. 
 
BOSTOI!^, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 329 
 
 To Mrs William G. Weld 
 
 Hotel Thorndike again, January 16, 1898. 
 DEAREST CAROLINE, — Since I was here before, in 
 various cities I have seen the following plays at differ- 
 ent theatres : " Never again," " Idol's eye," " Belle 
 of New York," '' Girl from Paris." They are all 
 mixed up in my mind as one great mush of legs, jokes, 
 songs, and falling up-stairs. The most important 
 personage in any one of these plays, — General, 
 Grandfather, Priest, Judge, Pope, or Father-in-law, 
 must be able to turn a double somerset at a moment's 
 notice. In the last, four red girls and four golf- 
 rigged boys danced a sort of fandango, which ended 
 by the boys doing leap-frog over the girls, after which 
 they all rolled in somersets to the front of the stage, 
 — a cloud of white petticoats and black stockings. 
 Such is the state of culture at this end of the nine- 
 teenth century, as far as stage requirements go. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 2 East 35th Street, New York, 
 January ^1, 1898. 
 
 DEAR lucretia, — Things have begun in a lively 
 manner, so there's scarcely a minute to write, but I 
 will scrabble a few remarks before getting ready to 
 drive in the park with Mr. Goddard. It poured 
 in sheets all yesterday, but to-day is sunny and 
 lovely. . . . 
 
 Francis called for me at six-thirty, my dear, in a 
 horseless carriage, they are quite common here now, 
 and no dearer than a cab (75 cents for us both). 
 They look, — well, I can't make a picture, for I 
 haven't seen them enough, but you sit like a han- 
 
330 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 som, looking out into space with no dasher, nor reins, 
 nor tail, nor legs, nor any other part of a horse, in 
 front, and a seen-less man behind gets along some- 
 how — rubber tires, noiseless springs, the thing glides 
 along avoiding teams and everything. It 's glorious. 
 We dined at " The Arena," a sort of foreign restau- 
 rant, then saw Coghlan in a beautiful play, " Royal 
 Box " ; I enjoyed it immensely, the first straight 
 piece of acting I have seen all winter — or last, for 
 that matter. Coghlan is apt to be drunk, but last 
 night he was perfectly sober, at his best, very hand- 
 some, and I think the finest actor going. So that 's 
 my events, beyond lots of talk with my hosts, — 
 some Fooley Ann, — and good sleep in a great big 
 bed. . . . ' 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 8 Meeting Street, Charleston, South 
 Carolina, February 12, 1898. 
 73° in the shade 9 o'clock a.m. 
 
 Now, my dears, you shall have this letter to-day, 
 whatever befalls. It must be a thousand years since 
 I wrote. And do you know that a year ago to-day 
 I crossed from Naples to Messina, and spent the 
 night in the meat-market, so to speak, for my room 
 in that hole (I mean hotel) was right over the shop. 
 And then Sunday you didn't come, and then Mon- 
 day!! you stood in the doorway of my room. What 
 a shriek there was ! 'T is but a step from the sublime 
 to the ridiculous, and here I am sitting by myself 
 in another strange place, but no door will open for 
 you and Kumpf and Louisa to come in. 
 
 I could n't stand it any longer up there ^ north. 
 Very amusing, but so much gadding was wearing me 
 out no place could I hide where my secret sin, to 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 331 
 
 wit: teas, dinners, theatres, lunches, didn't find me 
 out. New York was the most delightful and most 
 fatiguing of all. About these times nice nephew 
 Arthur put Charleston into my head, and made it 
 easy for me to come here. He knows people here, 
 and they found this excellent boarding-house for me. 
 You may say, " Why Charleston ? " but then I shall 
 say, " Whj not ? " You see it's easy to get here, and 
 its warm (enough and not too warm), and it's a city 
 with comforts and conveniences, and it isn't one of 
 those everlasting pine-y places, full of consumptives 
 and sand. Best of all, I don't know anybody here, 
 so they will let me alone. I have, to be sure, some 
 letters, and people have been written to about me, but 
 I mean not to poke 'em up till I 've got thoroughly 
 rested. Meantime I 'm treating the place like a for- 
 eign resort, going round quite by myself to see " the 
 points of interest." It 's a pathetic ruin of a once 
 brilliant town, dilapidated, squalid, rattled with 
 earthquakes, torpid with the departure of business, 
 overrun with donkeys, grass growing in deserted 
 streets, — but some of these things make it interest- 
 ing. It 's a network of trolley-cars, and I can jimip 
 into one of them and ride around and around for 
 hours. When you get far enough out, the long, flat 
 land and clumps of live-oaks, and sere meadows, in 
 this soft southern atmosphere are very beautiful, and 
 the odours of pine and sweet bay are enrapturing. 
 
 My house is close on the Battery, so I see the 
 sparkling water through trees and a sort of park, 
 and the sun shines in, and there 's a pretty garden 
 with all the things we (you) have in Algiers and 
 Riviera, that is laurustinas, violet beds, ivy, roses, 
 just coming along. I don't see any mimosa, which 
 I do hope you are enjoying somewhere this instant 
 minute, with its floods of yellow sunshine. Anyhow 
 I am thoroughly enjoying it, and when I get tired 
 
332 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 and " lontsome " I shall just git up and git, back to 
 excellent old Boston, where they had a blizzard the 
 other day, and killed all the horses Avith live wires, 
 and I'm told Providence is still three feet deep in 
 snow. But now let me search my past career and 
 pick some crumbs of incident to enliven you. . . . 
 
 Meanwhile, my nice young folks were good to me 
 in Boston. We had a little dinner at Thorndike, 
 and then went to "Keith's." It used to be the 
 "Bijou," I believe; there is an entrance on Tremont 
 Street, very gaudy, and going in that way you de- 
 scend into the bowels of the earth and walk along 
 a great looking-glass passage where, like that Algiers 
 restaurant, yourself is going along on its head on top 
 of you, all bedecked with gold and glitters, finally 
 coming out into the theatre. Then after the per- 
 formance we went to the new Touraine which has 
 a " kneipe " underground, where the men smoke, and 
 a German band plays, while we eat broiled live lob- 
 ster and drink beer in stone, with German carvings 
 and mottoes all round, and the electric lights coming 
 out of the stags' horns. And when we emerged it 
 was through a tunnel and up a " lift," which landed 
 us in the front entry, on Boylston Street, of the 
 Touraine. In fact, all Boston is getting to be one 
 great subway; and you can go from Thorndike to 
 the Music Hall without wetting your feet, where, by 
 the way, I saw some stereopticon views of Corsica, 
 very beautiful, slightly tinted, which made me long 
 to be there again. Can't you manage to get over 
 there from Nice? It's not very bad crossing, only 
 twelve hours. 
 
 I bade good-bye to Katharine Bowditch, who is 
 off with all her family and outriders to Italy for the 
 summer, perhaps they will get to Sicily. And I met 
 great, big, faithful Sam Johnson, who jumped into 
 a car, but as I was jimiping out directly after, 
 
BOSTO^nT, E^EW YOEK, CALIFOENIA 333 
 
 amazement sate on him and lie sate on a woman who 
 was there, and no explanations could be given or re- 
 quired. I saw a great quantity of Hales and Burs- 
 leys, and my Katy, and sich like. Oh, the Union 
 Club, you know, has a department for ladies, to wit 
 the old Mayflower rooms in the Quincy House. It 
 is beautifully done over by the Union Club, and much 
 more charming for a meal than our Mayflower, I 
 lunched there several times. They have a chef and 
 good food. The Thorndike also has a chef from 
 Delmonico's, and all the chops have little tufts on 
 top of them, and layers of peppers beneath. You 
 would n't know a lamb if you met him, so disguised, 
 but the result is good. Old Miss C. D. is there, more 
 like Queen Victoria than ever, but it's rather safer 
 not to let her see you, for she holds faster than the 
 flea. 
 
 ]N"ow from all this anguish and these delights I 
 came away to my Goddards in 'New York. New 
 York was reeking with pictures. All the Fortunys 
 at the Stewart sale. I spent hours there twice. You 
 must have seen (N. Y. Herald) some account of the 
 auction. That little " Choice of the Model " is an 
 enchanting picture, ^ow you must know that Ma- 
 drazo, Boldini, Gandara are all three of them in New 
 York in the flesh (very much in the flesh), getting 
 $6,000 apiece for fashionable portraits, and thus 
 picking the bones of all American painters. It must 
 have been fun for Madrazo (he was at the auction) 
 to hear his " Guitar Girl " run up to $16,500. Their 
 portraits are on exhibition at different galleries. I 
 saw them all. At Gandara's, there stood George 
 Haynes as large as life, painted in hat and frockcoat, 
 gloves and cane. He looked very beautiful, and it 
 must make him sleep finely o' nights, to be seen thus 
 attired on 5th Avenue. And, oh ! I rode in a horse- 
 less carriage — it's a dream of locomotion. I had 
 
334 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 a lovely dinner at Fanny Mali's, — sate between 
 W. R. Ware and Judge Howland, both most agree- 
 able, and most fond of me. W. R. is all turned grey, 
 and looks like Dr. Lothrop ! Saw Susan Day ; she 
 is full of dissipations, asked me to her box at Wal- 
 dorf Astoria concert, and to dine at Delmonico's. I 
 lunched at Delmonico's with Susan Travers. I saw 
 a lot of Nora Godwin, lunches, teas, German theatre, 
 and her most entertaining old Pa. Only ten days in 
 ]Sr. Y., and all these things, aye more, befell me, until 
 at last the flesh gave a yell, and I wrote Arthur to 
 take me away. Now that 's enough for onct. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 39 Highland Street, Roxburt, 
 March W, 1898. 
 . . . Charleston is a dear, sleepy, picturesque old 
 town, and the whole experience was most amusing, 
 but I don't feel like telling you about that any more, 
 so I hasten to my return, and stopping in Washing- 
 ton for three 
 
 Glorious Days 
 
 because I was just in the thick of the war excitement. 
 Papa Edward E, was in town, and a great man, and 
 I was with him in the Senate Gallerv, when the 
 $5000000000000000000000000000000000 was ap- 
 propriated. It was dignified and fine, and I was 
 proud of my country, and you know we are tremen- 
 dously patriotic now, and the lion and the lamb lying 
 down together paying for warships, and Lord knows 
 what may come of it, and the Senate adjourned im- 
 mediately after, in order that the pick of the Senators 
 might come to luncheon with Senator Hoar in his 
 Judiciary Committee Room to meet Edward E. and 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 335 
 
 Miss Susan Hale. These men were just like pleased 
 schoolboys, or Harvard men, after the ball game has 
 gone right for us. The air was all full of enthusiasm 
 and even gaiety. Vice-President Hobart was there 
 (the President of the Senate, and a fine man) , Allison, 
 Wolcott, Chandler, Cabot Lodge, about ten of 'em, and 
 Governor Hawley of Connecticut, and Dyer of Rhode 
 Island, the latter in Washington to get them to for- 
 tify Canonicut for the defence of our coast. Stirring 
 times ! Well, after lunch, which was brief, only ter- 
 rapin and the like, for these schoolboys had to run 
 back to their tasks. Young, the librarian, took us. 
 Pa and me, all over the new Congressional Library, 
 which is a superb building, and as he is an enthusiast, 
 and Pa, a scholar, he hawked us all over everything, 
 up-stairs and down-stairs, through halls full of fres- 
 coes, and crypts full of old pamphlets, and rotundas 
 with people reading, and little carriages for books, 
 on wheels, shooting up and down chimneys, from 
 garret to cellar, and round and round circular stair- 
 cases, breaking our legs, and breaking our necks look- 
 ing at ceilings, and looking out of lofty windows over 
 all Washington, till we were well nigh dead. Then 
 there was a great reception for Papa, where I saw an 
 immense amount of people kno^vn or unknown (for I 
 was in the newspapers by this time) , and then I came 
 away in a blaze of glory. . . . 
 
 Will Everett is giving delicious Lowell lectures on 
 certain poets. I only came in time for "Byron"; 
 oh ! so admirable, with charming extracts. He 
 spouted " The Assyrian came do^^^l," with his true 
 old fire, too ranting, perhaps, but full of expression. 
 The audiences are jammed. . . . Write. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
336 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matuntjck, Rhode Island, April W, 1898. 
 
 DEAR LUC, — Having a splendid time condensing 
 " Sir Charles Grandison " to thirty pages, for my 
 book. It is lovely to-day, but pretty cold with sharp 
 wind, so that it's only 55° in the sunny porch. I 
 pile on the logs, and scratch away. We have break- 
 fast now at six-thirty ! ! So I get to " my pen " be- 
 fore seven, and have done twelve pages since. I hated 
 to have Lucy go, and Mister Browning " was in hopes 
 she 'd stay threw the summer." Saturday and Sun- 
 day were lovely days, and Sunday p. m. we were bask- 
 ing in the porch, warm as summer, when Mr. Turner 
 arrived and stayed to tea, very gallant. 
 
 Last evening the sunset was of the finest. I was 
 up at my rock. The west all golden with golden 
 clouds, and over the salt ponds, a superb parade of 
 torn clouds in lavender and rose tints. I keep for- 
 getting to tell you how the sun (when there is any), 
 like this morning, pours into my Fullum's about 
 five o'clock. 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Lucretia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June ^2, 1898. 
 DEAR LUCRETIA, — ... Yesterday was quite mul- 
 tifarious, so I will give you the account of it. It 
 began peacefully, and when Phil, and Sully were safe 
 at work, and the house calm, I slipped off to walk 
 up to my farm. It was lovely, the red roses growing 
 just like blackberry bushes all over the place, and 
 I got an immense handful. Came down through 
 Miss Abby Tucker's place deserted, as she was to 
 Wakefield selling eggs, and came across to Hannah's 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 337 
 
 cart-track to come over between the ponds. It had 
 rained in the night, and squeezing through the drip- 
 ping woods, I had got so wet that when I came to 
 the crossing between the ponds, I didn't hesitate to 
 turn up all my petticoats in a sort of pouch to hold 
 my flowers, leaving the other hand free to clutch 
 branches, and thus proceeded, in my shoes and stock- 
 ings, to wade across the flood, which was well above 
 my garters, for the ponds are both so full now, the 
 water is smooth across and quite deep. As I was 
 halfway over I perceived hard by a man in a boat fish- 
 ing. "Hallo, Jerry! I'd have asked yon to put 
 me across, if I 'd seen you ! " He discreetly averted 
 his eyes, and kept his back towards me, saying: " I '11 
 row you down home if you want." " Oh, no," said 
 I, " I 'm so wet now I may as well go on," and so I 
 did. It's tremendously grown up on this side, and 
 I got still wetter from the wet bushes, so I was a 
 fine sight as I came up the back stairs at twelve-thirty. 
 I had just time to cast my skin and get ready for 
 dinner, when from the head of front stairs, I per- 
 ceived an arrival, an unknown young man, getting 
 out with his shirt-case and artist-weapons, — viz., 
 Howard Gushing, whom Phil, and I had vaguely 
 asked over from Newport to sketch. He is a dear 
 fellow, very handsome, twenty-five years of age, son 
 of Robert, and remembers acting with me in the 
 " Rose and the Ring," seventeen years ago, when he 
 was a little boy. We love to have him here, and he 
 is out now with Phil, and Sully sketching, which 
 he came for, having studied in Paris, and already an 
 artist of some repute. Luckily (as always) an ex- 
 cellent dinner soon steamed on the table, — roast beef, 
 salad, cream-pie. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
338 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Ltjceetia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June 27, 1898. 
 
 DEAR LUCRETiA, — ... It seeiiis really a pity to 
 have so few folks here, for the weather is perfect, the 
 household running like clock-work, Nora, the cook, 
 delightful, with lots of puddings in her eye; and 
 splendid things to eat, — broiling chickens, fresh 
 lamb, strawberries in profusion, thick cream, and 
 lobsters yesterday for the first time. . . . 
 
 I must tell you of our little chippy sparrows that 
 had their nest in the trellis by the front door. Their 
 young, happily, are abroad now, but Ma and Pa 
 Sparrow hang round as tame as tame, coming regu- 
 larly to afternoon-tea for crumbs of cookie. Yester- 
 day at the moment Mary set the table down on the 
 piazza, the two alighted hard by, with a jounce, quite 
 unalarmed; they open their little throats and sing, 
 as if to join in the usual p. m. tea-talk. We think 
 cookie must be very unwholesome for them, a very 
 singular form of worm, but it's astonishing how 
 much they tuck away in their small crops. Our 
 robins cover the lawn, and to-day the bobwhites are 
 singing there. Behind the dog-house there is a war- 
 ren of somebody, we might call them the " Somebody 
 Warrens," four small animals with bushy tails and 
 a mother, that nobody knows. When I describe them 
 as woodchucks, everybody says, " Oh, no, they can't 
 be woodchucks " ; if I take to calling them squirrels 
 they say, " Of course, they ain't squirrels." I suggest 
 muskrats, — " Oh, muskrats have flat tails." As no- 
 body has seen them but ISTelly Ryan and me, we feel 
 we ought to know how they look, but we are told it 's 
 impossible they should have bushy tails and not be 
 squirrels. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 339 
 
 To Miss Ltjcbetia P. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June 30, 1898. 
 DEAR LUCRETIA, — . . . Well, but I Want to tell 
 you of my expedition yesterday, a great one for me. 
 You must know Brownings are carrying the wash 
 this year (such a comfort, no wrangling, and only 
 75 cents a week). I was sitting on my hill-top, sur- 
 veying the scene, about six, when their team emerged 
 from their house below on the drift-way. A sudden 
 idea took me Aown. to the back door, where I invited 
 myself to get into the wagon. '' It 's an honour. Miss 
 Sewsan," said Mr. B., "' and I consider it sech, for 
 I consider you to be the fust lady in the state. You 
 be that for eddication, at any rate." We were now 
 on the steepest part of the hiU. I murmured, " I 
 guess you rather overrate me." "Haow?" said he. 
 '' I Guess You Rather Overrate Me," I yeUed. 
 " Not at all, not at all," he persisted, " the languages 
 you are acquainted with, and the numbers of them is 
 proved by the different nations you have visited." I 
 changed the subject to the condition of Mrs. Thomas 
 J. (who is in articulo mortis), and we occupied the 
 time to Elisha's with the treatment of laying out the 
 dead. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 SusE. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 October 21, 1898. 
 
 dearest CAROLINE, — I loug to commimicatc with 
 you, yet dally with the thought, for (like you) I 
 loathe the pen in these days. My mind has invented 
 a rake with separate pens for the teeth, wherewith 
 we could scrape the soil of correspondence, and, with 
 
340 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 but one set of ideas, start a whole field of letters. 
 Cadmns would be nowhere in comparison. 
 
 Where are you ? How long do you stay, what are 
 you going to do next? I put these questions and 
 will, meanwhile, answer them with regard to myself. 
 I am here. I mean to stay till the bottom of the 
 thermometer comes out. . . . 
 
 To revert to the living Susan, I came back Friday 
 night and settled down to peace, " George Meredith," 
 a French novel, some salutary sewing and an excel- 
 lent cat. Whereupon, to tell the truth, I took to my 
 bed this Monday (as you have seen me arrive at 
 your house), the result of fatigue and worry. I had 
 a glorious little attack, all to myself, with excellent 
 Loisy to tend me, and let me alone, and at the proper 
 time to make me a chicken-broth that was a dream 
 of succulence ; I am all right now, and feel the springs 
 of youth and gaiety bubbling up round my aged roots 
 again. But I want to stay here, in order to have 
 myself to myself for a change, as it has not been 
 possible all summer long, and I think the first half 
 of November will be beautiful, don't you ? . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Ellen H. Weeden 
 (Mrs. Nathaniel W. Smith) 
 
 San Ysidro^ California, Fehruary 26, 1899. 
 DEAR MY POLLY, — . . . Here it is just about 
 perfect. I wish you were here, my dear ; I think we 
 must take a trip together sometime. It was, to tell 
 the truth, quite fearful cold for two or three days, 
 but then the weather turned warm, too hot for grum- 
 blers. I am sitting in my great big open window 
 now, with my hair down my back, before dressing 
 for breakfast. Chinese brings me a little pot of 
 coffee at seven (when I come back from my luscious 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 341 
 
 cold bath, in a house where such things are situated), 
 just one hundred steps from my room. (There! a 
 sweet donkey brayed just now on the next ranch, in 
 a most loving pathetic manner.) And then I write 
 my letters till the jangle wrangle rings for getting 
 up, when I ought to proceed to put on my shirt- 
 waist and thin undergarments. My room is called 
 the "Buglight," because it is a little house all by 
 itself set up on four legs over a sort of piazza where 
 we sit to read and sew. See those 
 outside steps that climb up to it? 
 The ranch house, with four rooms 
 only one storey, is close at hand just 
 below where the companions live. 
 Mrs. Day, Susan, and her maid ^ 
 were there when we were here to- 
 gether, but they did n't let me have the " Bug " then. 
 It is rather cold, as there is no stove or anything, in 
 fact, it is about like the dog-house in matter of struc- 
 ture. But the sun rises about the time I do and 
 comes shining in with great might, and my window 
 and little balcony overlook the garden all full of 
 oranges, mandarins, grape-fruit (ripe, you know), 
 guava bushes, besides all manner of flowers in blos- 
 som. Lots of little birds skipping round in the live- 
 oak and cypress trees, and above all a sweet little 
 cat I 've named " Cuddly-cuddly " infests us ; full of 
 purr and lap-sitting, though also wild and frolicsome. 
 She troubles Mrs. Weld by catching birds and eating 
 them before our eyes, and I told Mrs. Weld I heard 
 Cuddly saying her prayers, and she said, " Give us 
 each day our daily bird." Ain't she naughty? 
 
 This place is about si:^J miles out of the world, 
 there are but a few people here, and we just dawdle 
 all the time, doing nothing beyond writing, playing- 
 cards, reading aloud, sewing a little — to mend our 
 clothes — and strolling round. The mountains are 
 
342 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 beautiful behind the ranch, and in front is the 
 Pacific, just about as far as the Atlantic from us at 
 Matunuck, only we are higher up among the hills 
 here. We drive when we choose, or are driven in a 
 great surrey with two horses ; but it 's just discovered 
 that I am allowed to drive " Jack " in a little light 
 wagon. This is great fun. He goes splendidly, but 
 is very gentle all the same. Yesterday, Daisy Rand 
 (twenty-three), who is with us, had to go to Santa 
 Barbara to luncheon with some friends. It's about 
 like going to the Pier, but the roads are lovely, wind- 
 ing through woods and along by the sea. So I drove 
 her into town witli Jack. We did a lot of shopping 
 in the funny little to\\Ti. I wanted a piece of pink 
 ribbon. I wish you could see their collection, in one 
 of the best shops, — about twenty rolls, that was all, 
 in a glass case. O. Kenyon would blush at such a 
 small show. I left Daisy, and then drove off to see 
 some friends of ours, the Olivers, who live in Mission 
 Canon, and invited myself to lunch. It was dinner 
 (one o'clock), all the better, and I had a lovely time. 
 They live, by the way, just beyond the Hazards' 
 place, which is all closed and lonely, its beautiful 
 garden wasted. It seems quite forlorn. The Olivers' 
 servants are all Spanish, so Cachucha, or whatever 
 his name is, took " mi cavallo/' and put him up till 
 we ordered him brought round later. Then I rushed 
 back to to^^Ti, picked up Miss Rand, and we drove 
 home in great spirits, in time for our dinner, 
 6:30 P.M. . . . 
 
 YouE Susan. 
 
BOSTON, NEW YOKE, CALIFORNIA 343 
 
 To MissLucRETiA p. Hale 
 
 Hotel del Monte, Monterey, 
 April n, 1899. 
 
 dear lucretia, — We have changed our base, you 
 see, and arrived here yesterday afternoon, pretty 
 tired, after a delightful but rather fatiguing trip. 
 I must tell you about it at length, and you can cir- 
 culate the tale amongst the various constituents. You 
 must know, and Nelly will agree, that there is one 
 hideous way of getting from southern California up 
 north, and one beautiful way, which is rather diffi- 
 cult to engineer, partly on account of everybody 
 thinking it's best to go the bad way. . . . 
 
 I thought we had better go the good way, and so, 
 I got our tickets changed and everything fixed. We 
 got started on Tuesday in fine shape. The day was 
 perfect. There had been fogs, so everybody kept 
 saying, " What shall you do if it rains ! " It won't 
 rain, you know, till next November, so that seemed 
 futile. Our trunks had gone to town the night be- 
 fore ; and about eleven we climbed into a nice surrey, 
 from the stage-office, Santa Barbara, with our small 
 effects (my Angel and Carry's hold-all) a splendid 
 luncheon in a tin box, and quantities of wraps. We 
 had a Mexican driver, named Olivas, who proved in 
 the long run rather tedious, but he was excellent with 
 the horses, and very careful about hot-boxes and 
 watering. All the inmates of the ranch were there 
 under the great pepper tree to say good-bye; the 
 Bushnells and Clarkes and Munros and Sam. Cabot 
 and Mrs. Sam., and sundry minor lights, and most 
 of all, Mrs. Hawes, whom we have become very fond 
 of, and she of us, so it was quite anguish to part 
 from her, and Mr. Hawes, the same, and Rudolpho 
 and Joachim, and the Chinese, and Cuddly, the cat 
 (who was at my door at five in the morning), and 
 
344 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 (I forgot to mention) Mrs. Greene and Mrs. Thaclier 
 and Miss Haven, who are coming on here next week. 
 So we drove away triumphant, through the pretty 
 garden reeking with roses, but sad at heart, thinking 
 very likely we may never be there again, paid for 
 our journey at the stage-office, and then went off 
 towards Arro Hondo. After ten miles or more of 
 plain road (passing the house where we used to see 
 the Birge Harrisons), we came down to the sea, and 
 the rest of the day was beautiful, along the shore, 
 chiefly on a cliff looking down at headlands with 
 surf breaking, then turning in and out to round gul- 
 lies where brooks flowed down to the sea, on our right 
 the hills, dotted with white oaks or glorious fields 
 of yellow mustard, like exaggerated sunshine. We 
 ate our luncheon under a great live-oak at Tecalote, 
 and all the p. m. drove and drove, reaching Arro 
 Hondo about sunset. Arro or Arroyo Hondo means 
 the deep ravine, — and there tucked away between 
 steep hills was a ranch on the creek, approached by 
 a narrow bridge, just one Mexican adobe house, where 
 we spent the night, in two rooms on the lower (and 
 only) floor, our doors opening on the piazza, the 
 plunging sea in our ears, great eucalyptus trees 
 reaching up out of the shadow of the hills, and the 
 moonlight trickling through their branches. IN^o th- 
 ing could come there except by the stage road, and 
 nothing would come there, after us, till the next 
 noon. Very worthy people (Yankees) gave us an 
 excellent supper and breakfast, and Thursday, the 
 next morning, we were off betimes (eight o'clock) 
 with Olivas, and drove and drove all day long. We 
 left the sea about 10 a. m. and turned into a beauti- 
 ful narrow pass through deep woods, and the rest 
 of the way was up and do-\^Ti along a creek amongst 
 lovely wooded mountains and fields for grazing, im- 
 mense ranches without fences, all midsummer green 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIxi 345 
 
 now, and the day really very hot! and oh, my! the 
 flowers ! Mariposa lilies, painter's-bnish, poppies, and 
 dozens of others in patches, now blue, now yellow, 
 now crimson. It is just the heyday of it this month. 
 I have never seen such profusion even here before. 
 Lunch under a great willow tree, in a barley field, 
 which the horses gobbled joyfully. At five we reached 
 Lompoc, a ridiculous, hideous, American town, all at 
 right angles, — put up at "Hotel Arthur," requested 
 our supper then, or at least, some coffee and bread 
 and butter. G. Proprietor said supper hour was five- 
 thirty and ''he didn't think he could get the cook 
 to get it any earlier." However, an agreeable boy, 
 who helped G. P. to run things, persuaded the cook, 
 and brought us coffee in our room, where we were 
 shaking ourselves out of the dust, — and at six we 
 were on the road again, an ugly straight one for 
 " Surf." This is a new place, only a hideous R. R. 
 terminus. The train came along and we got into our 
 sleeper stateroom, and spent the night in it, though 
 the train did n't start till five the next morning ! We 
 had it all to ourselves, except three ladies, who ar- 
 rived after we did by stage from Santa B. Was n't 
 that funny! We felt like dogs next morning, when 
 the train started under us, — but porter gave us a 
 very good " Buffet " breakfast, and we reached Cas- 
 troville at noon, where we lunched at the station, then 
 came on a small branch to the gates of this hotel. I 
 will give our experiences here in my next. Lots of 
 love from 
 
 Susie. 
 
346 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Hotel Athen^um, Chatauqua, Monday 
 
 morning, August 14-, 1899. 
 
 (After breakfast.) 
 
 Oh, my dear creature, you can't think how I miss 
 you now I am on the war-path again. It's quite 
 terrible ! I have things to refer to you at every turn. 
 We came here on " the Flyer" (Empire State train) 
 from New York Saturday, tore over the same coun- 
 try we came through six weeks ago. By the way, the 
 orange asclepias is still in blossom near Rochester. 
 It was fearfully hot; the Pullman car was crowded. 
 Two imps of children, a married couple playing crib- 
 bage, and lots of fat gentlemen. These mostly got 
 out at Utica, the cribbage pair kept on pegging all 
 day, he was in his shirt-sleeves, so was she, for that 
 matter. They had a most vulgar, modern cribbage 
 board made of tin or something similar, with great 
 pins, like those we use in dressing ourselves, except 
 fatter, a great many of these pins, and I may say 
 they seemed not to get lost. They played like light- 
 ning, and he constantly got the better of her, which 
 was the only thing about him that reminded me of you. 
 
 We reached Buffalo at four-thirty p. m. (only eight 
 hours from JSTew York), and then had to go the rest 
 of the way, two hours, in a nasty little side train down 
 to Mayville, jammed into a blazing hot common car, 
 with about a million female people, all in shirt- 
 waists, who got out at suburban homes every two 
 minutes, with masses of bundles and bags. I had 
 to sit crowded up with two shawl-straps, my cape, 
 my umbrella. Pa's waterproof and a woman, and Pa 
 was the same in the seat in front with his bag and 
 cane, only he was sitting on his best and only hat; 
 besides this, a red-bound book of small stories and the 
 Cosmopolitan came out of the pocket of his water- 
 
BOSTON, NEW YOEK, CALIFORNIA 347 
 
 proof and fell all over me. Thus we passed seons, 
 stopping at station after station, with more shirt- 
 waists piling in upon us. We saw the sun set in a 
 great lake there was, and I fully expected to see it 
 rise again, but before then we came to the part of it 
 on which we embarked in a small bath-tub called the 
 City of Rochester, about as big as one-eighth of a 
 Nahant boat; all the shirt-waists got on with their 
 bicycles, which were heaped up in the waist of the 
 ship, and we were all jammed into the stern under 
 an awning. The thing snorted and started, and 
 bustled out into mid-ocean, then stopped and began 
 to wobble and snort more, apparently shrieking for 
 help. I was quite sure we should go to the bottom. 
 It was now pitch dark; only a crescent moon was 
 making a path over the water, and lights sparkling 
 afar off, and I was wondering whether I could swim 
 there in my boots and carrying my umbrella and the 
 Cosmopolitan, when lo ! the boat snorted and started 
 again, and it appeared our place was right there at the 
 back where I could n't have seen it. We landed on a 
 crowded wharf, and by reason of passes went through 
 a gate, while the shirt-waists remained howling 
 without until they had paid the uttermost farthing. 
 
 My dear, this is a most wonderful place, there are 
 ten thousand people, truly that number, here this 
 minute, and I saw them all at the Auditorium yester- 
 day, at church, really an imposing scene, a great 
 bowl of a place with sloping ranks of seats to contain 
 these people, open to the air above, all woods and 
 great trees, so it was n't hot. A fine organ, a trained 
 choir of one himdred voices or more, instruments 
 besides, a good leader and the audience all also sing- 
 ing, " Holy, Holy, Holy," like mad. Pa sate up on 
 the platform, being a "counsellor," and, amongst 
 other things, by and by he was announced by name 
 to the audience to read a portion of Scripture. A 
 
348 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 little lady next me in a good blue foulard whispered 
 to me, " Is he any relation to the man that writes the 
 books ? " Said I, " It 's the same." Said she, " Did 
 you know he was a minister ? " Said I, " Hush, — 
 I'm his sister." (Because she had no business to be 
 talking during prayer or something.) She was cov- 
 ered with confusion, and afterwards pressed my hand 
 and said it was an honour. 
 
 We are ourselves staying at a great howling, bel- 
 lowing hotel, built much on the plan of that at the 
 Grand Canyon, in fact the carpets are the same, but 
 there are swarms of cottages where the shirt-waists 
 are poked. You know they are all here improving 
 their minds, learning some dam thing or other, and 
 hearing lectures and being very devout especially 
 Sundays. This week is the Grand Commencement 
 Graduation Feast of the season. We are fairly com- 
 fortable, and sit at a small table with the great guns 
 of the institution, such as Dr. Hurlbut, Bishop Vin- 
 cent, and the like. I am a small lion myself, but 
 seldom growl in the presence of Rev. E. E. H., of 
 course. It is a philanthropic enterprise, and no 
 doubt gives a pot of culture and all that, but do you 
 know, even the gate-money brings in thousands of 
 dollars, and they must make money hand over hand, 
 so they can afford to do things in style. The scene 
 is a beautifid great grove with great trees, and the 
 lake, and fine buildings, stone walks, a Doric temple, 
 lighted with flaming torches, shirt-waists wandering 
 'mid the electric lights and talking about geology and 
 the next world, to each other, no men to speak of, and 
 " meetings " every five minutes to " hear " something. 
 It is all, in fact, extremely interesting, but Lord! I 
 shall be glad to get out of it, which mil be next Friday, 
 and safe in my beddybeddy Saturday night. Write 
 to Matunuck and tell me how you like this letter. 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
BOSTOI^, NEW YOEK, CALIFORNIA 349 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, October 7, 1899. 
 . . . Oh, that Back Bay Station! Have you ever 
 imagined such a ghastly, bellowing cave of the 
 winds ? I got there Wednesday afternoon with the 
 
 Angel in my hand, not darst to check anything, fear 
 they 'd carry it on to the Interminable. I stood upon 
 a blasted heath in a sort of tunnel, looked up a great 
 ladder and saw cabmen at the top (as it might be 
 that landing at the Yellowstone Falls), with tele- 
 scopes looking down. I said in a small voice, " Could 
 you come and get this bag ? " One of them took 
 
350 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 wings and pounced, like the aforesaid eagle, and thus 
 I was saved. But how devilish. The employees are 
 so disconsolate. The man at the news-stall stands 
 like one alone in a desert, saying it 's horrid. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Mks. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 Sunday, November 5, 1899. 
 
 Oh! my dear! that carpet! It's a joy forever, 
 and, strange to say, it 's exactly the right dismentions 
 (I mean, I believe, dimensions), as far as the female 
 brain can compound. We 've spread it out in the big 
 parlour, and every little while I say to Loisy, " Let 's 
 go and look at my carpet," and Avhen "the morning 
 sun is just slanting in upon it and door stands open 
 admitting balmy perfumes of November, I go and 
 dance my saraband all over it to a joyous, morning 
 song. Mr. Browning says, " I don't know as I ever 
 see sech a one." I myself know perfectly well that 
 he never did. Seriously, my dear, it will fit exact 
 in this room where I want it, just taking out the 
 border where the hearth and chimney comes. My! 
 won't it look handsome in this room. I am going 
 to leave it where it is till I come down in the spring, 
 and then spread it here. Makes me long all the more 
 to have the fitful, feverish, hateful winter over with, 
 and me here again. . . . 
 
 I had a rotten time in town, the only whiff of 
 excellence was seeing you come in at the door. It 
 is enchanting here. I still breakfast outdoors, — 
 only this morning I didn't, for it was 32° only, and 
 the sun in a bank of clouds where it arose, lazy thing, 
 at six-thirty. Such a lovely stroll on the beach yes- 
 terday afternoon and lots of nice thoughts of things 
 
BOSTON, NEW YOKK, CALIFORNIA 351 
 
 past and to come. Home in a glorious sunset, — 
 and somebody had put chrysanthemums on my 
 mantelpiece, and the fire was blazing, and a small 
 moon looking in at the window. Passed the evening 
 with Tristam Lacy (Mallock), and went to bed at 
 eight o'clock. ... I will stop now. Lots of love. 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 221 Newbury Street, February 4^ 1900. 
 Now, my dear, do you understand that I am in 
 bed with bronchitis, barking, sneezing, blowing, for- 
 bidden to speak, or mix with my kind, and confined 
 to my doctor for companionship ? Well, I am, and 
 must hurry to describe it to you before I get perfectly 
 well, which may happen at any moment, and I want 
 to be sure you know how dreadful it is first. No 
 sooner had you departed than my bones began to ache. 
 On Thursday Mrs. Wells gave me a lovely tea of 
 about thirty constituents. I wore my (last year's) 
 pink-embroidered-on-black-Hollander waist, and they 
 all said how well I looked, and began planning lunch- 
 eons and things for me. The next day I moved into 
 these (excellent) rooms. I'll tell you about them 
 later. Went to a dinner that evening, it was a fiend- 
 ish night, bellowing wind, and that slippery, I came 
 near sitting down on the curb-stone several times 
 from sheer fear. The next night I went to the theatre 
 to see Rogers Brothers, and then I took to my bed 
 and stayed there till ever since. My dear Carry, 
 I bark and sneeze just the way you used to do. I 
 didn't know before that bronchitis was like that. 
 Have you got a whole chicken yard in your midst that 
 clucks and wheezes and yawps and bellows just how 
 it 's a mind to, without any collusion or consent from 
 yourself ? Mine does, and I think it very unpleasant. 
 
352 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 But no matter, I am getting over it, and in fact 
 I '11 tell you about a little spree I had yesterday, 
 which turned out all right. You see this 221 ISTew- 
 bury is not a regular boarding-house — (God forbid !) 
 I only have my breakfast in my room — it's very 
 good. But when I got well enough to eat, and my 
 doctor said I could have a steak, they brought me up 
 a small piece of white leather with marks of a 
 toasting-fork over it and some pepper, and I didn't 
 care very much for that. So the next day, which 
 was yesterday, I just privately got out of bed and 
 put on all my clothes for the first time in a week, 
 and put on stockings and shoes, and my flannel waist 
 and the " Beast," and tied up my bonnet in a veil, 
 and fastened my fur over my mouth, so that nothing 
 was to be seen but eyes, like an owl in an ivy bush, 
 and I ran dowm-stairs and out of the door and waited 
 ten minutes on the comer, a devilish wind blowing 
 forty knots an hour, and not only knots but bits of 
 glass and bro^vn sticks, one of which went into my 
 eye. My car took me out to Highland Street; and 
 I stopped and bought a small, thick steak at the 
 butcher's, and ordered a cab at the stable, and walked 
 up the hill to No. 39. By ill luck I fell foul of my 
 doctor, just starting off in his automobile runabout. 
 He flew out and seized me by the fur. "What are you 
 doing here, Miss Hale?" It was a good thing; for 
 he could guide me firmly into the house, and put me 
 down on a sofa. Every soul alive was out of the 
 house, but we gave the steak to the cook, the doctor 
 went away, and by and by, a nice succulent smell 
 came up on a hot plate, accompanied by juice and 
 nice meat and a slice of toast and glass of wine. So 
 I ate and was thankful, very thankful, and by and 
 by my cab came and I got in and drove back here, 
 and went to bed again, none the worse. Niece Nelly 
 turned up, in the midst of my escapade, and tried 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 353 
 
 to make me stop and live there, but I couldn't do 
 that. There won't be any more trouble, for to-day 
 there 's roast chicken for one o'clock dinner, and after 
 this I shall go out to my meals. I mean to visit Rose 
 and forage for a meal pretty soon, so don't you worry 
 about me, because I shall be all right long before you 
 get this. 
 
 As for what 's going on in the world, don't ask me, 
 for they don't let me see people for fear I should talk 
 
 and get black in the face. is going to marry 
 
 . She is the Christian Science lady, you know. 
 
 When I was in Washington there was a family named 
 M , or something, who had absolutely no diges- 
 tion, and suffered agonies from peritonitis, bronchitis, 
 diagnosis, and meningitis, whenever they put food 
 
 in their mouths. But after they knew , they 
 
 used to have cucumbers and lobster salad regularly 
 for dinner, and just telegraph afterwards to her, and 
 she would simply fix her mind upon her Maker, and 
 they would digest by return telegram. . . . 
 
 You must know that I can eat here, if I want to 
 (in general I don't want to). It is not a regular 
 boarding-house, but three w^orthy spinsters, the only 
 inmates besides the landlady, have meals which I can 
 share at any time, quite handy. These three spin- 
 sters occupy each one room by herself, and they think 
 I am splendid because I have a parlour. They stick 
 out their noses and wiggle them like rabbits Avhen 
 my ^'company" comes, through their cracks to their 
 doors, — and they all have shut -up bedsteads, — and 
 they all make their own beds and lie in them. I am 
 so afraid they will all be found dead some morning, 
 and I shall be accused of the crime. There 's a bed 
 of that description here in my chamber, but I won't 
 sleep in it, so it 's " draped," as the landlady calls 
 it, and looks a cross between a catafalque and a 
 shower-bath. But my room is so big it don't trouble, 
 
354 
 
 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 and I keep my shopping on it. It's too bad this 
 letter is not so amusing as the last, but the materials 
 don't seem so succulent. Write, write incessantly. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Mks. William G. Weld 
 
 221 Newbury Steeet, February 23, 1900. 
 DEAR CAROLINE, — This is me yesterday going out 
 to catch a car in my black lace and arctics. No bon- 
 
 net, as it was impossible to open the umbrella. No- 
 body stared, for there was nobody anywhere. I had 
 the car to myself, and buzzed do^ni to the Subway, 
 ran into the "' 'Dike," where they took me apart and 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 355 
 
 hung me up to dry; and when Philip and Steven 
 Codman came in they found me sitting cheerfully 
 at the table in my red-flannel shirt-waist, with cock- 
 tails and oysters all ready for them. We had a jolly 
 time and so celebrated the Father of our Country. 
 It was a merry rain, poured all day and till midnight, 
 and so hot! I was here in the evening reading, and 
 the thermometer was 80°, with window open and 
 register shut. 
 
 The other spree I had was going to 's funeral, 
 
 which had place in my brother's church, quite handy. 
 John Tibbetts, I understand, says he is always glad 
 of a funeral w^hen he comes here to see his mother, 
 for everybody sees you, and it saves the trouble of 
 sending cards. I was with Parber, who performed 
 the occasion, so I came up the little winding stair 
 by the pulpit, and thus burst upon the mourners 
 assembled, and popped into the first place handy next 
 
 to , instead of being sorted out, according to my 
 
 kind, by Russell Sullivan and other devout ushers, 
 who were doing their duty at the main entrance. As 
 
 is niece of the departed husband of the deceased, 
 
 she may have resented this contiguity. But she 's 
 deaf as a post, so she did n't dare say anything, and 
 I pressed her hand to show it was all right. Soon, all 
 the collaterals came in, swathed in crape, so you 
 couldn't tell them apart. . . . Helen and Minnie, 
 Emma Rodman and her dear, handsome, old father, 
 who looks as if he were walking in a dream of fifty 
 
 years ago, and that devil, , still alive, though the 
 
 Woman Suffrage Bill is knocked dead as a door-nail. 
 She fell upon me and hung around my neck, but I 
 cast her off like a millstone, and swam across the 
 street to my car. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
356 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Boston, March 1, 1900. 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE, — Carla Atkinson is coming here 
 to lunch with me and take me to a concert, but I 'm 
 too previous, and she won't be here for half an hour ; 
 so I '11 sit in a comer and write. 
 
 It 's pouring ; did you ever know anything like it ! 
 Chicago is buried in eleven inches of snow, but we 
 are in a l^iagara. That 's why I 'm not running to 
 see Rose in this interval. Sheets of water bar the 
 way between this and N^o. 6, and what 's more, I 've 
 just broken the mainspring of my lovely umbrella, 
 so it 's run down and no good. 
 
 Under these circumstances, I will simply give you 
 a plain, unvarnished tale of what happened to me 
 when I last went out into the world on Tuesday last. 
 First, I had luncheon with George at the Union Club, 
 and, by the way, we had little chunks of lobster en 
 hrochette with thin bacon between, just fried in 
 crumbs with a mayonnaise sauce, or eke Tartare. 
 Good idea? Then I lifted myself up along by the 
 State House, seeing things I never dreamed of before, 
 a great eagle on a column, and a fagade facing some 
 place and a tunnel that pretended to be Mount Ver- 
 non Street, and a dirt heap that was all that was left 
 of Hancock Place ; and so by reason of great strength 
 arrived at l^o. 24, where Isabella and Mary Curtis 
 reside, next door to Greely. It was something after 
 two, and of course too early, and I had made an awful 
 mess of it, because they were just sitting down to 
 middle-day dinner, after the customs of the ancients. 
 They begged me to join, but the memory of the 
 hrochette was too recent. They showed me a little 
 real owl that sits in a chestnut-tree at the back of 
 their house, and eats the sparrows. ... I then in 
 
BGSTOI^, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 357 
 
 a perfunctory manner meant to drop a card on the 
 
 lamenting 's, on account of her mother. You 
 
 remember the hymn, " I '11 drop my burden at their 
 feet and bear a card away." Of course she was see- 
 ing no one, but to my amazement the man-opener, 
 
 I mean doorkeeper, said he was sure Mr. would 
 
 see Miss Hale, and so he would, and we had a really 
 charming chat of half an hour concerning the demise ; 
 and her kindnesses and eccentricities, and the family 
 diamonds and pictures^ and how pleased they were 
 with Edward E. and the service in his church, and 
 all that. It seems she died all in a minute very 
 peacefully and quietly — and that 's a blessing for 
 anybody — and there is no will, because she had de- 
 stroyed the one she once made, saying that everybody 
 mentioned in it was dead before her, and many other 
 little traits really touching and pleasant to dwell on. 
 So then, on leaving there, I thought it was late 
 enough to put in at Helen and Minnie's, but the 
 maid, clothed exclusively in a cap and a flaming 
 sword, proclaimed they did n't receive till four. 
 Whereupon, like the peri at the gate with no oil in 
 my lamp and not murmuring " Too late," I was 
 for going elsewhere, but Papa Ellerton Pratt frojH. 
 the top of the stairs bellowed that Miss Hale was to 
 come up. Once again saved by masculine supremacy. 
 We sate, Pratt-ling, in front of a great log, on the 
 well-kno^vn sofa with ancestors looking down on us, 
 till Minnie and Helen came in, and persons of all 
 ages and sexes, amongst the latter Edward Jackson, 
 and dear old Henry Sayles, who is getting aweary of 
 this world. Hb thinks it's this world, but I know 
 it's Boston that's the matter with him. However, 
 he 's just had a little spin in the Mediterranean with 
 (a nephew) Tappan Francis, and they saw Mrs. 
 Homans and Taormina, and the Cappella Reale at 
 Palermo and several things, but not Girgenti. Agnes 
 
358 LETTEES OF SUSA:N' HALE 
 
 Irwin came in, and ske and I went away together, 
 and blew down the street with a howling gale against 
 us, . . . till I forsook her, to call at the May Win- 
 sors'. They were out, — the good-for-nothings — but 
 I went in and tied my head up again (did you see 
 about the girl at the concert, who sate bleeding all 
 down her cheek from too firm a hat-pin?), and went 
 on to call on Mrs. Townsend, a dinner call, and then 
 on Mrs. C. G. Loring in Otis Place. The great big 
 sun was pouring its level rays through that gap, a 
 flood of gold, but the gale was unabated. Mrs. Lor- 
 ing away, but the genial General there, who showed 
 me their daffodils, and then I came out again into 
 the cold world. The last blow was meeting Harriet 
 Guild, who told me everybody else was dead, so I 
 flang myself into a passing automobile and had my- 
 self taken home. Took off my regalia, put on a 
 wrapper, had a simple meal of a cup of tea and some 
 crackers, and read a German novel I 've got till nine, 
 and so to bed. There now, I guess it's time for 
 Carla. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susy. 
 
 To Mks. William G. Weld 
 
 Thornden, Sunday, March ^5, 1900. 
 
 Oh ! Carry, to think my dear Mr. Rogers is dead ! 
 I just read it in my Sun. The dearest man ever was ! 
 Remember his reading Rob's poem to us at Mrs. 
 Thaw's luncheon? I know he didn't want to live 
 any more, after the death of his wife ; they were the 
 most devoted people I ever saw, — he has been brave 
 as brave since her death, and kept up his cheerful 
 gaiety as well as he could — but it was no good. He 
 has had lots of sad things happen to him. Oh, dear ! 
 
 Excuse this lamentation of mine, and tell me what- 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFOR.YIA 359 
 
 ever you hear about him. I send you (direct from 
 publishers in Toronto) the "Lunatic at large/' 
 which we think pretty fuimy, but not so funny as 
 the people think who think it is very funny. If you 
 get this before you begin the book, skip the introduc- 
 tion, till after you have read the book. It spoils the 
 effect. I think it will read aloud well. 
 
 It's too bad about your readers. ISTo good in 
 people that don't read con amore. We might buy a 
 "something-phone," and have me read into it, and 
 
 send the scrolls on by instalments, for you to let loose 
 while you are sitting round sewing on the square 
 piaz. Ha ! pleasing thought, but rather dull for me, 
 sitting bellowing into a hole with no response. 
 
 Before I forget it, let me tell you to be sure and 
 buy the two Scrlhners for March and April, on ac- 
 count of a tale in two parts called the "Touch- 
 stone " by Mrs. or Miss Wharton. We have only read 
 the first part, and are impatiently awaiting the end 
 in the April number. It is very clever ; she is more 
 James-y than Henry himself, epigrammatic in every 
 line, but her style thus far has the merit that you can 
 understand what she means, on account of her finish- 
 ing her sentences, which her master had long ceased 
 to do. 
 
 We have here now Miss Kirkland (you know. 
 
360 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 mother a Wilkinson, thus cousin once removed of 
 May's), who was living in Johannesburg when the 
 row began, with her brother Jack, who is an Edison 
 man ; he was trying in his Edisonian way to electrify 
 South Africa, when South Africa turned upon him 
 and electrified the world. They had to come away, 
 naturally, leaving (''their tails" and) batteries behind 
 them, and she is giving three " talks " here in Syra- 
 cuse about the situation. All Davises and herself are 
 fiercely English, and I have learned much about the 
 impossibility of Boers. Apart from opinions, she 
 is very interesting, and describes picturesque Johan- 
 nesburg, all glowing in the primitive colours, red 
 earth, blue sky, intense green of " wattle," etc., in a 
 very interesting manner. It will never look so any 
 more, for the war will have spoiled everything, even 
 if Kruger don't blow it up. . . . Good-bye, dear. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, April 8, 1900. 
 
 DEAE CAEEY, — At last ! I 've cleared decks of 
 baleful bills, perfunctory notes, and refusals of offers 
 of marriage, and " come to you at last " with my big 
 yarn. I 've been here just a week (to-morrow) and 
 everything is lovely. The landscape is sere and 
 brown still, but the great big sea is all sparkling 
 with sunshine, alder tassels are getting on their mus- 
 tard, fat robins jounce the ground, and I saw a great 
 rabbit. The only other wild beast visible is the 
 donkey down at Browning's. . . . 
 
 Then I touched in ]^ew York to get a good soak 
 in the villainies of that place before coming into 
 retirement here. . . . Billy and I had skurce time 
 after this to dress for dinner, — and then go to 
 
BOSTON^, NEW YORK, CALirOR:NTIA 361 
 
 " Sherlock Holmes," which is splendid, Will Gillette 
 being the incarnation absolute of Conan Doyle's crea- 
 tion ; long, thin, wiry, imperturbable. The best scene 
 is in a most unpleasant cellar where you are led to 
 believe that gas may escape at any moment and suf- 
 focate everybody, especially Sherlock H., who is de- 
 coyed there for that purpose, when suddenly he takes 
 a great chair he 's been sitting in and smashes the 
 only lamp, so that not only that cellar, but the whole 
 theatre, is in total darkness, except the gleam of his 
 cigar up by a broken window. Of course, all his at- 
 tackers fly up to that window to catch him, except 
 one, who brings another light, revealing Mr. Sher- 
 lock Holmes slipping out of the opposite door, which 
 he bangs behind him, and we hear him bolting a mil- 
 lion great bolts the other side, and the curtain goes 
 down leaving everybody to perish miserably, except 
 himself and a girl there is round. It is thrilling. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, April 29, 1900. 
 ... As for Francis and me, we have nothing 
 much to tell in return. Our excitements are limited 
 to bursting in on each other after long, solitary- 
 prowls among the hills with our arms full of luscious 
 Mayflower, which is now in perfection. One dawdles 
 along peering under laurel clumps and dead leaves 
 till a little patch appears full of winking, little white 
 blossoms. In my case I let my huge bulk down with 
 a slump by one of these patches, and lay hold of a 
 bunch, lo ! the trailing vine comes up with blossoms 
 hanging along its stem for half a yard, dainty pink, 
 and sweet in smell. Nice little anemones say "Ha! 
 ha! " under the bushes, and my ! such big dandelions. 
 
362 LETTERS OF SUSAIs" HALE 
 
 just fit houtormieres for a robin, going to his wedding 
 in a fat, red waistcoat. Brambles prevail, and I 
 came in streaming with blood last time from a rent 
 in my wrist, grabbing an especially good blue violet. 
 ]^o matter, there 's carbolated vaseline and asphyxi- 
 ated cotton in the house, as well as soap and warm 
 water. . . . 
 
 Loving Susie. 
 
 To Miss Ellen Day Hale 
 
 7 : 30 A. M., Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 May 15, 1900. 
 
 DEAR NELLY, — Are you there ? I believe I must 
 write you one of my jorums. It is perfectly exquis- 
 ite here, yesterday and to-day, after so much waiting, 
 and some really bitter weather. Doors and windows 
 all open, " birrids " singing, buds sprouting, sum- 
 mer heat and a soft haze in the air. Yesterday I did 
 nothing but dream and dawdle, in the front porch 
 chiefly, neither reading nor sewing, just watching 
 the things. It's so still here. Yesterday I heard 
 somebody whistling ; thought it must be on my own 
 hill ; no, it was a man away by Matlack's ; finally he 
 came along with a tin pail and started down the drift- 
 way. I saw (and heard him till the sounds were 
 lost), and then I could still see him, the only black 
 spot in the road, way down to Wanton's, still blithely 
 walking along whistling. And that was all that hap- 
 pened during that space of half an hour. 
 
 Just now when I was eating outdoors a little 
 " smole birrid " came and sate down in a crotch of 
 the vine, hitched about to see if it sate easy — exam- 
 ined the timbers with an eye to building. Then flew 
 away, to tell Mr. Birrid, I suppose, what the rent 
 was. . . . 
 
BOSTON, Is^EW YORK, CALIFORNIA 363 
 
 Nothing is done on mv place, for not a man is to 
 be had. I must marry ; what I need is a man under 
 constant control, who can move bookcases, beat car- 
 pets, saw wood, change a bedstead. . . . 
 
 YouE Susan. 
 
 To Miss Mary B. Dinsmoor 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June 7, 1900. 
 Hours with Browning 
 
 dear MARY, — ~\Vlien your little friends ask you 
 about the employment of my time, and you mention 
 the above as one factor in my existence, I fear they 
 may misapprehend. This thought was mine just 
 now as I was engaged with Robert B., pursuing our 
 agreement that he " chore " for me one hour a day 
 for a dollar a week, in the aesthetic, poetic, congenial 
 task of cleaning up the dog-house and cellar. Not 
 Sordello but sawed wood was our background, — 
 " Here ! pass the broom," not Pippa passes. The joke 
 is threadbare, but still retains its humorous aspect. 
 The most interesting thing we discovered was three 
 addled eggs on a shelf in the dog-house, which it 's 
 thought Bartlett, not Partlet ( ! ), laid there last 
 autumn. They suggested themselves first to my nose, 
 later on to sight. Well, the occasion was an interest- 
 ing and drastic one, and I don't feel much more ex- 
 hausted than after a regular Browning seance with 
 T. Wentworth Higginson in the chair, and, after all, 
 now that I am cleaned up myself, in my red gown, 
 hair tied and put up, hands washed, and a pocket- 
 handkerchief about me, it is but ten o'clock and 
 plenty time for late mail. . . . 
 
 " Children of the Mist " is here, and I 'm sure I 
 shall like it. It has the real Dartmoor tang, don't 
 it, and, as you say, suggests Hardy, although strong 
 
364 LETTEES OF SUSAl^ HALE 
 
 and individual. I divided my brief evening between 
 that and Maeterlinck's '' Bees," which is most de- 
 lightful. I have it in English (partly because they 
 iDont send me the French). I 'm sure I shall get so 
 stuck-up with honeycombs and queens as to reach the 
 belief that mankind is a mere detail. (Oh! must 
 I say that to Bee or not to Bee is the real 
 question!) . . . 
 
 So far we are alone, but Francis is due at any 
 moment, and all the Grays arrive to-morrow, via 
 Soimd boat, at 9 :30 a. m., or thereabouts; there will 
 then be five in the kitchen to feed and eight, no, only 
 six, in the dining-room, i.e.. Barber's study, — with 
 Edward, the baby, suspended between. We have had 
 three lovely days ; now it 's cloudy again. Jim 
 Brown came and climbed ladders, mended the leak, 
 fastened up the front door, made all the windows 
 open-and-shutable, unstuck the slats of blinds, stopt 
 the hole in the fireplace and said it was dangerous, 
 besides making himself most agreeable, and charging 
 the whole to Mr. Weeden (at the request it appears 
 of the latter). Jim has a loud, bellowing voice, like 
 hailing you from the tojo-mast, and if you don't adopt 
 his pitch in reply, he says, " Haow ? " 
 
 By the way, why not have a " Half-sheet 
 Club," ^\\t\\ no laws, and one by-law, which should 
 be for members only to write to members when 
 reminded to by the sight of a half-sheet and on it 
 "' Half-sheets without Authors " could be the name 
 of the club, and you and I could be the only ones 
 in it. 
 
 I must stop, partly because I observe that, like the 
 eggs, I 'm addled. I '11 go and hem napkins to restore 
 my tone. My place and house look sweet really; 
 Mary Burrell and Cornelia came down yesterday and 
 brought me a mess of greens (chadlocks, spinach, 
 milk-weed, dandelions, all in a brown-paper bag) and 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 365 
 
 a huge bunch of mj lilacs, snowballs and things. 
 Everything is a dream of green. lushn.ess between here 
 and Wakefield. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Ellen H. Weeden 
 (Mes. N. W. Smith) 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, Novemher 5, 1901. 
 
 deae POLLY, — The sun was just coming out of a 
 fog-bank, the thermometer was 32°, when I began 
 to eat outdoors this morning. The whole land was 
 covered with a white frost. Weeden's Hill looked 
 like a birthday cake, and I wanted to see everything 
 begin to sparkle when the sun touched it, and I did. 
 Coffee and beef-steak smoked in the sharp air, and so 
 did my breath, but I had on my little fur, and my 
 bear over my knees, — and a good snapping fire in 
 the red room to fall back on. I have fallen back on 
 it now. It's 50° in here. You can't imagine any- 
 thing more lovely than the weather all this week. 
 I 've got jolly chrysanthemums in my yellow pot on 
 the table, and nasturtiums picked yesterday from 
 your wall. . . . Write. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen Day Hale 
 
 Funchal, Madeiea, Thursday, I guess, 
 January 30, 1902. 
 deae nelly, — Here we are at the place I came 
 out to see, and it is very satisfactory. We were play- 
 ing round on shore yesterday, and were going in a 
 boat at ten o'clock. Meanwhile I will stop staring 
 at the island and the native boats wobbling up and 
 
366 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 down at the landing stair, and write you about it. 
 May be this will join my fat letter in the mail-bag. 
 
 We are having a jolly time with the Swift-Gray 
 combination, and they are all nice to me. The girls 
 are agreeably excited and fresh. We were all out 
 and competing for the bath-tub before six (this was 
 yesterday). Of course, the whole ship arose and 
 swarmed ashore, but we were sitting on the very top 
 deck as the sunrise touched the island and its great 
 cliffs began to unfold themselves before us. Until 
 nine we were gliding along confronting them. Lus- 
 cious, soft tints, you know, — like Andalusia, red and 
 green, forests and waterfalls and little houses like 
 Noah's Ark set about in folds of the vineyard. Rap- 
 turous ! Made me feel just like Straits of Gibraltar 
 and to cry, " Oh, why ever stay away from these 
 things ? " Then came the landing in wobbly small 
 boats. We went over with Swifts pretty early in the 
 game and climbed that fearful stony stair, all slime, 
 that occurs at intervals all round the Mediterranean 
 (for this seems just like that sea, though outside of 
 it). Portuguese "nao" sounded in our ears, the 
 naked natives were diving for coins. 
 
 Sometimes I think this first impression is the 
 "whole thing. Might just as well go home now, and 
 wait till you forget it, and then start out and come 
 again. But the rest is excellent, also; I mean the 
 more to come. There was a Avorthy man on the pier 
 with a very English accent, who proved to be Jones 
 of Kentucky. He had simply strolled out to see the 
 event of our arrival, which occurs only once a year. 
 Ethel was keen to enjoy the medley of all sorts, which 
 I won't describe, except small puppies just out of a 
 nutshell, and a tall negro in the garb of a Catholic 
 priest. Hot, mind you, on shore, and ladies in panr 
 nelas bringing fat roses and violets, camellias and 
 callas. Finally came our Henrys (all the rest of the 
 
BOSTON, NEW YOEK, CALIFORNIA 367 
 
 ship-load spued out of boats in the interval), and 
 we went and sat in ox-carts, we really did, to be 
 drawn up the mountain. But such ox-carts, wait 
 till I tell Mister Bro\vning about them. Low vic- 
 torias on runners with easy seats front and back like 
 a hack, tops like palaquins, with curtains that draw 
 or open. Thus we sate in three of them, me, Mrs. 
 Henry, Mrs. Townsend, Mrs. Wister in one — Ethel 
 with three of our men in another, and Mr. Henry, 
 Miss Butcher, and the other two in the third. Oh 
 it 's so pretty. A great brook divides the town down 
 a chasm with arched bridges over it, and all ferns 
 and elephants-ears growing on the sides, women wash- 
 ing, and lizards down there. The climbing stretch 
 is paved with cobblestones; and plane-trees, as yet 
 bare, are planted along. We glided up to Reid's 
 hotel, somebody urging the oxen, which are buff and 
 small, with bedposts on them for yokes, and men 
 running each side, and all yelling, and small boys 
 pressing flowers on us, and expecting small coin 
 (English), which we lacked, so then they gave us the 
 fat roses. The town is all on the slant, you under- 
 stand, like the back of Mentone, red tiles, green 
 blinds, gardens with our same California things, I 
 mean bougainvillaeas, scarlet passion-flower, begonia, 
 trumpet flowers, Marechal Niels, La Marks, all 
 climbing round like mad with splotches each of its 
 colour, streets very narrow, high walls, and these 
 gardens on top of them, with smiling faces looking 
 out of lattices and throwing down buds of camellias 
 to us. We went up and up for two hours, I should 
 think, getting steeper, more bellowing, men sweat- 
 ing; they keep greasing the runners with a kind of 
 horse-tail they have, which makes the cobblestones 
 very slippery. At last we alighted at a gate in a 
 very high wall, and inside was " Santa Clara," the 
 villa belonging to Mr. Gordon, a cousin of Mr. 
 
368 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Henry's, who never lives in it now ; Mr. G. had writ- 
 ten his peoiDle to serve Mr. Henry's party a hmcheon 
 in the veranda. Wasn't it delightful for us? The 
 garden, etc., like such villas at Algiers, full of trees 
 and shrubs, a broad, turfed terrace with a moss- 
 tinted, red parapet, and down below the town, the 
 sea, and our smoke-stacks like dots on the water. A 
 lovely play of clouds. 
 
 It rains three hundred days here, but off and on 
 sun bursting out, and there is almost a constant rain- 
 bow over the place, with one leg of it in the water. 
 The house is forlorn, because deserted, with great 
 opening rooms, and windows like doors opening on 
 verandas, with vistas between bay-trees. Pity they 
 are bored with it, the Gordons. We had a cold lunch 
 served by a worthy old Portuguese care-taker and 
 a valet de place Mr. Henry brought along from the 
 town. My ! it was good, cold pasty of " weal and 
 'am," — cold beef, turkey with pate de fois, a deli- 
 cious salad mayonnaise, of which Miss Butcher said 
 she had tasted nothing so good since leaving Philadel- 
 phia, cheese cakes. We were hungry as bears, and 
 ate joyously. After luncheon the fun was to see lots 
 of sledges sliding down the cobblestones, these were 
 returning ship's company, amazed to perceive us up 
 at the lattices, and by and by we got into our baskets 
 on runners, and flew down lickety-split, but I was n't 
 frightened, for we were tightly wedged in, Mrs. Henry 
 and me, by an Uncle used for that purpose. Our 
 two running men, one on each side, urged and re- 
 strained us by ropes, running, yelling, slipping, slid- 
 ing, swerving round corners, sparing three elderly 
 ladies in the sledges in front of us, from instant 
 death. In a jiffy we were down at sea-level and close 
 to the stream and plane-trees. We fooled round in 
 the shops a little; the basket work is celebrated, but 
 I can't very well take home large piazza chairs with 
 
BOSTON, NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA 369 
 
 amis. Henrys all stayed over to a ball, made for the 
 Auguste Victoria, but Ethel sweetly didn't care to, 
 and we came home in lovely lights, rainbow, etc., 
 about four, tireder than dogs; at least, I was. . . . 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, May 5, 1902. 
 
 MY dear, — I have waited to write this till the 
 last moment before your arrival, that it may reach 
 you warm and bubbling with freshness and all the 
 glow of this raw sou'easter now raging. I had your 
 grand letters, but no use answering out into space 
 with no address short of 6 Comm. . . . 
 
 Speaking of space, and wireless Marconi, did you 
 see about the mouse that wanted to go to a piece of 
 cheese he saw ? " Take care," said Ma Mouse, " it 
 may be one of these wireless traps." Of course you 
 know that I have long had a wireless doorbell, the 
 knob is still up in the garret some place. Nobody 
 ever answers it, but it answers perfectly well itself, 
 so I feel in advance of the invention. By the way, 
 I have just invented wireless bird-cages, won't it be 
 nice, all those little birds we saw in Mexico sitting 
 round in the air on invisible perches, eating invisible 
 seeds out of wireless glass. Of course they can't fly 
 away, through fear of Marconi. I mean to have 
 a quantity of them. 
 
 But this, you will remark, is neither here nor there. 
 You will want to know some of my adventures since 
 last I wrote, whether from Europe, Asia or Africa, 
 I can't remember. Yet stay, — it was to Louisa I 
 wrote last from May Moulton's lovely spare-room 
 on March 18. Since then, ever since then, I 've been 
 fighting a barking, sneezing, catarrhal attack, such as 
 you 've seen me through with many a time. Oh ! for 
 
3Y0 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Dr. Deahens' glorious spraying-machines! It was 
 the change from lovely Algiers to cold raw London 
 done it, and then the Voyage on the Saint Paul was 
 colder and rawer (but lots of fun, I had my cabin 
 to myself, dressed a doll, read a whole book, and 
 mended all my stockings). Black and blue all over 
 from bumping in and out of my berth, so rough. 
 Then New York, Boston, coldest, rawest, — but Pa's 
 Millennium had to be attended to, a glorious ovation 
 it really was, and he was in fine shape throughout, 
 all my boys, his sons, there, and we sate in a row to 
 contemplate the apotheosis of Pa. . . . 
 
 Your loving Susie. 
 
 To Miss Mary B. Dinsmoor 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, May 14-, 1902. 
 DEAR MARY, — I cau't resist this envelope, though 
 I 'm sure it will shock your hostess, when f orwardedl 
 I want to tell you that the Saturday and Sunday were 
 the most fiendish days here. Howling winds and that 
 cold, Tom's potatoes were froze, and there was an 
 inch of " oice " in Alice's dish-pan. It was, I am 
 sure, Martinique weather. (How terrible that is!) 
 It was impossible to keep even the red parlour warm, 
 55° either inside or out was our best record, and 
 I naturally had a relapse and am now a bran-new 
 wreck, with new aches and pains, different kinds, 
 with different drugs. Still, my new cook-stove is the 
 pride and glory of Matunuck. It has a sort of altar- 
 piece on which Loisa hangs votive offerings to Pros- 
 erpine (I suppose) in the way of the coffee-pot and 
 fried potatoes ready to eat. And we 've had a great 
 circus and cleaned out the cellar. You can't dream 
 what it is to be purged of your cellar. Cartloads of 
 rubbish carried off, and my hind-lawn, so to speak, 
 now resembles the scene of a collision, with smashed- 
 
BOSTOE", NEW YORK, CALIFORXIA 371 
 
 up locomotives lying bleeding, being the remains of 
 an absurd furnace the Hales had in Palseozoic Ages. 
 A man is coming to lay a new cellar floor. Mean- 
 while I am taking myself off (as per contract), this 
 p. M. for the " 'Dike," Mrs. Glover and George's 
 luncheon. I feel exactly like not doing this, but " I 
 dare say I shall have a good time." 
 
 The country is looking just as I wanted it to look 
 before, — just as I am leaving it, — and when I 
 come back Saturday the maples will be out and 
 turned sere. Don't you know Theo. Brown used to 
 say " fall had come " when the first crocus faded ? 
 But don't let me be so gloomy. I cease. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 
 
 (1902-1905) 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 Off Baltimore, November 22, 1902. 
 (Z mean, n(M at sea hut nephew Arthur s.) 
 
 . . . Meanwhile, it's lovely here, and mild as 
 summer, and it seems foolish to go anywhere. You 
 know the Arthurs are living in a long low southern 
 house with southern exposure. The sun streams in 
 through glass doors, and outside are broad fields of 
 winter wheat, so bright green, 'pon my word, they 
 remind me of sugar-canes at Cuernavaca and the 
 wooded hill beyond suggests Popo and Ixtax, that is 
 to say, enveloped in clouds. We have great big chim- 
 neys and huge logs to burn, but scarcely want them. 
 But I sort of want to get somewhere, having been 
 running round in and out of my trunk since Octo- 
 ber 19. It was delightful at Olana, under the new 
 regime of Mrs. Louis Church ; — very pleasant at 
 Schenectady, with my descendants Maurice, Nathan 
 and Tom ; amusing as ever at Hartford. I saw Mrs. 
 Charles Warner by the way. 
 
 I spent a night at Manhattan coming here. Ye 
 gods! what a place 'New York is at present. I am 
 sure Sodom and Gomorrah were plain sailing by 
 contrast. Great chasms at your feet, gallows over 
 head, explosions saying, " Boong," to make you jump 
 every other minute, smells, smokes, lightnings. That 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 373 
 
 piece-of-cheese building on Madison Square in the 
 angle of Broadway and Fifth Avenue is the most 
 alarming thing I ever saw, twenty storeys high, and 
 thin as a wedge. Any slight seismatic disturbance 
 might send the whole wedge flat on its stomach in 
 the middle of Madison Square. 
 
 A Branch of the Corps Diplomatic 
 Being thrown to the floor from his attic, 
 
 When he did see his mat. 
 
 Exclaimed, "What is that?" 
 They replied, " 'T is a Shock Seismatic." 
 
 To Hiss Cakoline P. Atkinson 
 
 5 p.m. 80°. 
 
 Port Antonio, Jamaica, Sunday, 
 
 December IJ,,, 1902. 
 
 DEAE CARLA, — I must get my pen and things and 
 begin to write you from my top veranda, I love it 
 so much. You have been in my mind all the after- 
 noon, but I have been dawdling in my room, and just 
 emerged in my thinnest white waist and silk stock- 
 ings. You know it 's a great deal hotter all the time 
 than it ever is at Matunuck. I just love it, and I 
 think I shall thrive on it, though it is enervating and 
 makes me lazy. But I hope it will dry out my throat 
 and catarrh and all my diseases; anyhow it's deli- 
 cious, so why not be lazy ! 
 
 Do you see this point behind the ship (which is 
 always there for some reason) ? Well, we can row 
 out from these boat-houses do^vn here, and go round 
 that point to the open sea, and there in the channel 
 little bathing-houses stand up on legs out of the ocean 
 with steps down, and we can go swimming in rather 
 shallow water on a white sand floor. This side of the 
 point is the channel through which all ships arrive, 
 
374 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 amongst others Us, and as we came sailing in last 
 Monday, just after sunrise, we came past this lovely 
 lawn with the boat-houses, cocoanut palms, mango 
 trees, grass to the water's edge, with a little brook 
 rippling down to the sea, all sparkling with ferns, 
 and lo ! it all belongs to the Hotel Tichfield, where 
 I am still staying. I became so enamoured of it 
 from the first glance that I didn't want to go any- 
 where else; and as I like it more and more, my 
 present plan is to stop right here until after Christ- 
 mas, before seeing any more places ; you see I have 
 lots of time to put in before April. I am, so to speak, 
 alone, but people are raised up to me all the time. 
 
 I went to church to-day with Hopkins of the 
 United Fruit Company, to hear Rev. F. B. Myers 
 of England address the Methodists; they are darkies 
 all, and it was extremely interesting. He is a hand- 
 some man, about sixty, 1 should think, and he 
 (wisely) spoke in a dramatic sort of high-coloured 
 way to touch their emotions. He has beautiful hands, 
 and used them a great deal. It was a sort of passion- 
 ate, glowing description of the Christ as the Saviour 
 of men; his words were beautiful and moving. To 
 tell the truth, I did n't think he affected his audience 
 anything much. Perhaps I am wrong. They were 
 splendid-looking, well-to-do "nagurs," mostly girls, 
 dressed in the latest style, pink shirt-waists, sailor 
 hats, white kid gloves! (I had mine in my hand, so 
 hot.) The young men in Tuxedos, four-in-hands, 
 panamas. The singing was fine, a yang-yang played 
 by a coloured lady, and a choir up in the loft, of a 
 dozen girls; but the whole congregation sang (our 
 familiar tunes) and none hit a wrong note, the young 
 men joining, even leading, with fine voices and good 
 enunciation. 
 
 It 's suddenly pitch dark (no twilight) and I must 
 stop. 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 375 
 
 Monday morning. 
 
 Good morning, dear Carla. ISTow I want to tell 
 you about these nights, they are kind of uncanny, 
 so hot, windows wide open, door open, with a slat- 
 door hooked. There are no outside blinds or shades 
 to darken this big window, only these fluffy white 
 figured muslin curtains, very fresh and clean, put 
 up the day I came, and there is never a speck of 
 dust anywhere in the house. So when I get into 
 bed (80°), I lie and look out on the lovely opal sky; 
 the moon is full now, and it 's almost light out there. 
 Through one half-window, the branches of a sort of 
 cedar tree sway and wave, in the slight breeze. Out 
 of the other I see the ocean, the lighthouse with a 
 red lantern, and tops of waving cocoanut-palms. My 
 curtains float in the wind; it is still, stiller than 
 Matunuck, with those deep caves of opal and mother- 
 of-pearl out there in the sky. Ain't it kind of weird ? 
 Well, towards dawn last night I woke up and a gale 
 was blowing; all my curtains on the loose, and a 
 pouring rain rattling down. It can't rain in, for 
 there are eyebrows of corrugated iron over every win- 
 dow. I flew out of bed, shut my windows, shut my 
 door, — (it had gone down to 76°) — drew my 
 (single) sheet around me and went to sleep. At six- 
 thirty, when I woke again, the rain was over, the sky 
 was. coppery with the sun just coming along out of 
 the sea. I jumped up and went for my bath, most 
 refreshing after rather enervating nights. 
 
 It is beautiful now, great surf rolling over the bar. 
 There are no flies, no mosquitoes, no occasion for 
 nettings or screens, all doors and windows stand open. 
 These deep verandas are sheltered alike from sun and 
 rain. It rains a dozen times a day, and makes the 
 green lawn sparkle. Unlike California and Mexico 
 there is grass everywhere, — no dust, for even the 
 little town has a good road through it, and besides 
 
376 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 it 's always muddy. It is said that the mongoose has 
 destroyed all vermin, snakes, and things (incident- 
 ally all the song-birds) ; anyhow the absolutely only 
 thing of the sort I have seen was a Person, a most 
 highly respectable sort of beetle, with a pinl<;-and- 
 green pattern worked down his back in cross-stitch. 
 By the way, I am playing with my embroidery linens 
 and have made some very pretty cloths for my brush 
 basket, etc. 
 
 Oh ! it 's lovely on my veranda this morning. The 
 hills so thick with foliage and the water peacock- 
 tinted. Do write to this hotel, as on the envelope. 
 I am sure it. will reach me, as I stay here over 
 Christmas. 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
 To Mrs. William B. Weeden 
 
 Jamaica, December 28, 1902. 
 . . . A"3 everyone tells you, the feature of Jamaica 
 is its marvellous growth of verdure, beyond all the 
 other tropics, I believe; surely beyond any I have 
 seen. Don't you know California, etc., are disap- 
 pointing from lack of grass, — waste places wherever 
 there is nothing planted ? Well, here something 
 grows»like mad everywhere ; close down to the water's 
 edge, even the ocean surf breaks upon ferns and vines, 
 dipping and sparkling in the wet. We are on a sort 
 of channel made by an island that breaks the wind 
 and surf, but my veranda overlooks the open sea 
 beyond. That point of the island reminds me of 
 our point this side of Julius Landing; it is covered 
 with trees to the water's edge, that sort of look like 
 our trees, only they are mangoes and cocoanut-palms 
 and breadfruit and mimosa trees. . . . 
 
 Your loving Susan. 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 377 
 
 To George L. Clakke 
 
 Falmouth, Jamaica, January 21, 1903. 
 
 DEAR GEORGE, — . . . My letters came just as I 
 was leaving Browns Town for good, so I poked them 
 into my bag and just nibbled at them on my drive, 
 which was twenty-two miles in a buggy through lovely 
 country, sort of like Chocorua, dowTi gradually to 
 sea-level; it was delightful after three weeks in a 
 bowl amongst mountains, to come out on the lovely 
 Caribbean. It is much hotter than up there, but I 
 love it. I am stopping over night at " Mrs. Jacobs' 
 Lodging," a funny place, not exactly like the Man- 
 hattan, but it does very well, and I won't stop to 
 describe it. 
 
 I received much attention from the worthies of 
 Browns Town, and, I am assured by the landlady, 
 "entirely captivated the whole place." You should 
 have seen my triumphal exit from the town in an 
 open carriage with two horses, trunk behind, small 
 box and rug-strap in front, receiving the homage of 
 the population, all the (dark) inhabitants crowding 
 their doorways to wave a good-bye. Eoosevelt is 
 nowhere. 
 
 On Tuesday my chief admirer, Dr. Miller (a 
 worthy man, sort of like Governor Weeden for age 
 and build), drove me to a reception at Judge Keece's 
 pen, where we had tea on the barhecue. These are 
 Jamaica words. Pen means a great estate, and a 
 " barbecue " is a huge stone platform where they dry 
 pimento, coffee, chocolate, etc. It serves as a great 
 ball-room, a piazza for tennis, shufSe-board, anything, 
 as the climate demands no awning nor roof. We just 
 sate there in easy-chairs watching the lovely sky, 
 orange trees bearing fruit, cocoanut-palms the same, 
 and all this wonderful tropic vegetation. The Reeces 
 are just as nice as we are, — of Scotch descent. He 
 
378 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 is the leading Judge of Jamaica. I 'm in love with 
 them. The house is a huge stone building with slits 
 in the cellar where the blacks used to be chained in 
 slavery days. . . . 
 
 YouE LOVING Susan. 
 
 To Mks. William B. Weeden 
 
 Malveen, 2 wo feet altitude. 76°. 
 Thursday a. m., February 19, 1903. 
 
 MY DEAR JEANiE, — It is positively wicked to 
 neglect so long writing you. Fact is I am swamped 
 with correspondence, chiefly family, and, when I am 
 going about I have no time to write, — but volumes 
 to tell you of the delights of Jamaica. Last evening, 
 I got a letter from Jim, and one from Mrs. Joe 
 Bro^vning, and these spur me to take the pen, to tell 
 you, first, that I think of you very often, and of 
 Matunuck constantly, and am full of tearing good 
 spirits to think that I am so well and strong, and get- 
 ting ready for a fine summer with us all together. 
 
 This place might be called the '' Brownings of 
 Jamaica," for it's an immense farm conducted some^ 
 what on the Robert Browning plan. It 's an old de- 
 cayed coffee plantation or " pen " as they are called, 
 with a huge barbecue one hundred feet square. The 
 Great House, our lodgings, is a beautiful place, 
 ofiices, etc., on the ground-floor, and the floor above, 
 the only one occupied, with a huge salon and dining- 
 room adjoining, mahogany folding doors, mahogany 
 floors, mahogany beds in the (rather cramped) bed- 
 rooms opening on these big rooms. These (all over 
 Jamaica) extend up to the roof; rafters and all 
 showing, in this case white-washed, and scrupulously 
 clean. (There is no dust in Jamaica, no flies, no cob- 
 web visible; besides, dark ladies on all fours are al- 
 
JAMAICA, MATU:N'UCK, EGYPT 379 
 
 ways scrubbing the floors witli oranges cut up in 
 water, and rubbing them down with half-cocoanut- 
 husks. ) 
 
 Scattered about the Great House are outhouses 
 (like Browning's barns, etc.), only of stone founda- 
 tions, and thatched roofs, that is, shingle, so old and 
 shaky that it resembles thatch. Our kitchen is one 
 of these houses — about as far as the boat-house — 
 no, — but twice as far as the dog-house — from our 
 dining-room. There 's no chimney to the kitchen, 
 and all the smoke comes out of the door, — there 's 
 always a pig in the doorway. He don't go into the 
 kitchen because there's a board put up to keep him 
 out. Cooks and other folks step over the board when 
 they have to go in. Mules, horses, cows, pigs, dogs, 
 cats, chickens, guinea-hens, little darkies are all loose 
 around the place. It never rains to speak of you 
 know. Great masses of bougainvillseas, poinsettia in 
 blossom, orange trees bearing both blossom and fruit, 
 cocoanut-palms, bananas, mango trees in full bloom, 
 rose-pink oleanders! are all scattered about on this 
 wide plateau, whence we look off over rolling country 
 far below us, forests, roads, little towns, with cloud 
 shadows and patches of sunlight on them, and then 
 beyond, towards the west — the high horizon — the 
 sea! sometimes pearl-colour, sometimes sparkling 
 with sunshine, sometimes all peacock tints. The sun 
 sets there gloriously every evening at six-thirty, and 
 rises at six-thirty in at my east window, a burst of 
 golden glory. JTow don't that sound pretty nice ? 
 This fine estate (seven hundred and fifty acres) now 
 belongs to Mrs. Lawrence, a little dried-up old lady 
 of my age, Scotch (mixed with a touch of Jamaica), 
 who runs the lodging (two guineas a week). The 
 food is fairly good, fresh fish brought up on some- 
 body's head from Alligator Cove, thirteen miles be- 
 low, chicken excellent, etc. But why speak of food ! 
 
380 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Wait till I strike a porterhouse steak at Manhattan. 
 The fruits are wonderful and some of them excellent. 
 The " Ripley Pine," a thing unknown in the north 
 and holding no resemblance to the pineapple of com- 
 merce there. There is no one here at present but 
 some nice well-bred Canadians. There was a lovely 
 young Englishman I lost my heart to, but he 's gone. 
 I have now seen a fair proportion of the different 
 Jamaica places, driving about in a buggy with trunk 
 behind and "the Angel" in front. It's rapturous; 
 I am never more happy than when I start off for a 
 thirty- or forty-mile trip. It costs a good deal (one 
 shilling per mile), but it's the only way to see the 
 Island. Beginning at Port Antonio, and at last 
 reaching this place, I am sure that these two are the 
 most beautiful spots on the island — the lowest and 
 the highest altitude ! though other ones are beautiful, 
 and my real passion is swimming in the Caribbean. 
 I have met constant hospitality and several delightful 
 people. ... Be forgiving and write your 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen Day Hale 
 
 My Refuge, February 25, 1903. 
 DEAE NELLY, — ... Thcsc you SCO are my simple 
 joys; — the chief of them is my glorious sunsets 
 from the corner of my veranda — every night beau- 
 tiful. They have a strange kind of cloud here that 
 comes up between the sky and me, entirely separate, 
 I suppose very low. It is black, black as smoke from 
 a soft-coal chimney, and pours up the sky like smoke, 
 then gets torn and jagged in great weird forms like 
 those Chinese demons on Japanese kakimonos, don't 
 you know? It makes me think no wonder these 
 blacks are superstitious when they see such frightful 
 forms in the sky. llsTothing comes of it, the black 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 381 
 
 masses tear themselves to pieces and settle down to 
 looking like alligators and other long, flat things, 
 quite harmless. The stars come out and I go over to 
 dinner. . . . 
 
 Your happy Susan. 
 
 To Miss Maky E. Williams 
 Browns Town, Jamaica, March 17, 1903. 
 
 DEAR MOiMiTCH, — . . . Jamaica has kept on 
 being just as delightful. The climate suits me abso- 
 lutely. My passion is driving about in a buggy with 
 all my pots and pans about me. I am just off the 
 crowning trip of all, — more than one hundred miles, 
 four days through beautiful and unusual country; 
 that called the " Cock Pit Country " so snarly with 
 hills and crags, ravines, swamps, waterfalls, preci- 
 pices, that a few roads have been but lately wriggled 
 through. 
 
 We started early in the mornings, David and me 
 and the two mules, and had only coffee and bread 
 (Jamaica butter is nasty). Somewhere on the road 
 I got the habit of buying six eggs from any old lady 
 we met, and while we were changing horses at the 
 next place, consisting generally of a fork in the road 
 with a house or two, I would get the eggs boiled, and 
 a little salt done up in a rag, and some bread. At 
 Tombstone a man gave me six bananas, none for sale, 
 but the country full of them. That day David and 
 I cracked our eggs on rocks, sitting above a beautiful 
 turquoise waterfall, by the side of a river, that went 
 brawling along with great tropical trees overhanging 
 the stream, hung with elephant' s-ears ( a twisting vine ) , 
 and great cords hanging down, and gobs of orchids. 
 At noon very likely we found some place with a bed, 
 and perhaps a cup of tea, where I rested, while David 
 
382 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 took out the horses (changed from mules at Tomb- 
 stone), but nothing much to eat till lodgings at night, 
 and then we drove on again over great mountain-tops 
 with views of glorious rolling country and away — 
 away, the sea ! So finally about sunset Wednesday 
 we came rolling down through beautifid arcades of 
 bamboo, and roads hedged with scarlet hibiscus, to 
 Christiana, where Dan, with his buggy, was waiting ; 
 Dan, the Browns To^vn driver, who took me hence, 
 two months ago to Falmouth and Montego Bay. So 
 that night I slept secure in the keeping of two 
 " coachmans " and four horses out to pasture, in Miss 
 Mullin's excellent lodgings, — my door open on an 
 up-stairs veranda (there was no window) ; outside, 
 the full moon gleaming on a forest of banana fronds 
 that shone and rustled in a soft breeze (only a sheet, 
 mind you!). In the morning I had coffee (after a 
 bath in a big tub), and when I made a face at con- 
 densed milk, a small, dark child rushed into a coffee 
 thicket and apparently caught and milked a wild cow, 
 for she came back with a pailful (boiled). IText day 
 Dan brought me here thirty miles. The whole vil- 
 lage came out to greet my return. It 's a dear little 
 place and besides, a convenient gite on this tour 
 which was planned for me by experts. I am resting 
 here, for my race is nearly run in Jamaica. On 
 Thursday I drive thirty miles, then by train from 
 Ewarton to Spanish Town, thence rail to Kingston, 
 thence drive across the Island to Annotto Bay, and 
 finally Port Antonio, where I want to stop a while 
 before sailing for home. Probably I shall take Wat- 
 son, the S. S. I came in from Philadelphia, April 14, 
 but things nautical in Jamaica are so uncertain ; it 
 may not be Watson, and it may not be Philadelphia, 
 and it may not be the fourteenth. Anyhow it will be 
 Arthur's, Baltimore, by April 20, or thereabouts; 
 and I want to open the Matunuck House May 1. 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 383 
 
 I want to go there, shed my trunk, — my winter 
 clothes are smashed to an unused pulp at the bottom 
 of it, and my summer clothes are in rags. Then I 
 want to come to Thorndike to refit, and press all your 
 hands and have you see me with my fine Jamaica 
 bloom on me. The dust, and eke the water here, are 
 so red that my skin is also, and my hair a delicate 
 auburn. 
 
 All of which, dear, if all goes well, will soon be 
 happening. I have had a lovely mnter, but begin to 
 hanker for " folks," and I 'm always your loving 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Mary B. Dinsmoor 
 
 Spanish Town, 8 a. m., 
 Sunday, March n, 1903. 
 
 DEAR MARY, — Half-shcets are very, very low in- 
 deed as it says in " Katinka," in fact, everything is 
 on the wane, my course is run, I am on the home- 
 track. Sweet Jamaica does not pall; on the con- 
 trary, I keep thinking what I shall do next time 
 when I come, but probably I shan't. We '11 see. 
 
 But I must " write to " your last, the prompt one. 
 My other March 11 letters turned up here three 
 days later ! Oh, yes ! about, the old people. Yours 
 called up all visions of my mother, your Aunt Mary, 
 dear Mrs. Anna Greene, — how terribly we miss 
 them out of our lives ! How can we know how to 
 behave! We couldn't if we didn't remember them. 
 It 's a great loss, I tell you, for these young people to 
 break away from their trellises so to speak, their 
 props, so early in the business. I might say to aban- 
 don their props before they know what 's proper, but 
 the subject is too serious for jest. Of course I miss 
 my old gentlemen also beyond words. But think of 
 
384 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Mrs. Ticknor, fine old figure-head, and don't you re- 
 member the real Aunt Lucretia, dear little old lady 
 in a cap, with a nice laugh. The fact is we are none 
 of us worthy to succeed them. You see, Mary, I shall 
 be sixty-nine next time ; and my mother was seventy- 
 one when she died, so that we chiefly remember her 
 as a yoimger woman than I am now. Ain't it incredi- 
 ble ! Well, the only thing is we have to hang round, 
 and we must do the best we can. She certainly 
 would not have thought favourably of spending six 
 months in Jamaica driving round alone in a buggy 
 with a coloured gentleman. But what a good time 
 she had in her rocking-chair with us all circling 
 about her, and Dr. Lothrop in the evenings. Let's 
 see, she wasi about fifty-nine then! . . . 
 
 To Rev. Edwaed Everett Hale 
 
 45 East Street, Kingston, Jamaica, 8 a. m., 
 March %7 , 1903. 78° 
 dear EDWARD, — . . . So here I am at Kingston, 
 enfin, having put it off till the last, as a place well 
 abused by all tourists, — I really rather expect to 
 like it. It is blazing hot, and the air is lifeless, 
 there's an electric trolley shooting past the house, 
 which is in one of the principal streets. But why 
 say " shooting," when it goes by about once an hour 
 at a stealthy funereal pace. Two darks are lying on 
 their back on the sunny curbstone opposite, and that 
 is all the passing I have seen since six when I rose. 
 My window is east for the first time in Jamaica, and 
 I saw a lovely dawn with Venus and sweet little 
 brand-new moon just trembling with being about. 
 The sky was glorious at Spanish. Town; the night be- 
 fore, I was out in my night gown and running about 
 the (silent) corridors finding things — Mars was 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 385 
 
 overhead, a great cup of red molten gold, all ready to 
 slop over at any moment; Scorpio sprawling in the 
 middle of the southern sky, with the Sabre next him. 
 The Southern Cross upright with its pointers, and a 
 kind of work-bench, which I believe to be Corvus, 
 conspicuous in the S. E. But you never once speak 
 of my stars. I 'm afraid they bore you. Orion is 
 no finer than at home, and I think our winter ones 
 may be as good, only you can't go out (in March) in 
 your night gown to study them. . . . Much love 
 from 
 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Ellen Day Hale 
 
 Red Room, 8 a. m., Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 October 26, 1903. 
 
 DEAR NELLY, — I think SO mucli and often of writ- 
 ing to you that I thought I had; and was surprised 
 to find you were not on the list of the accomplished. 
 You must know I wanted you here for these last 
 days of the season, but I abandoned that Avhen I heard 
 of the Simeon plan, and did n't even tell you I wanted 
 you. Perhaps it's just as well, for the weather has 
 been very capricious, but when it is lovely it is so 
 lovely; I have never enjoyed an autumn so much, 
 I mean as to my situation, w^hich has been just to my 
 mind. This morning, for instance, at sunrise, ten 
 minutes past six, I flew out of bed, ran doAvn to open 
 the front door and look at the thermometer. It was 
 40°, with a great big sun so far south it was soon 
 slanting in to the red room even to the fireplace, so 
 I had my breakfast in the doorway. You see the sun 
 runs so low now, and so south, that it shines in under 
 the roof of the front porch almost all day long {when 
 it shines). But when it don't shine, — and it's just 
 gone behind great clouds and a wind come up, — I 
 
386 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 have to shut the front door, pile on the logs, and stop 
 writing from time to time to warm my back against 
 the blaze. You have experienced these things with 
 me before. Loisy is very amenable. You see the 
 prolonged absence of her spouse Albert (in another 
 world), makes her feel really as if this was home 
 more than anywhere else. She putters round in the 
 kitchen, does our simple wash, cooks delicious things, 
 sews on her clothes, such as putting white-cotton 
 heels into my cast-off black-silk stockings, and after 
 dinner goes up and dresses splendidly in her black 
 gown and big white apron I gave her, to be ready 
 for afternoon-tea. Yesterday when I heard her soft, 
 stealthy tread on the top-stairs, I called out, " That 
 you, Loisy ? have you had a nap ? " " No ! " said she, 
 " I was taking a bath." This is the more creditable 
 seeing that the ram is dead, you know, the tank 
 empty, and all the water we use hauled up-stairs by 
 herself. That force-pump of Papa's lifts the water 
 to tubs and pails front of the kitchen door by Father 
 Browning-power, but he will go no further. It is 
 really too arduous to pump it up to the tank. I have 
 got witch-hazel in the front window, with the sun 
 shining through its yellow shreds; in the corner 
 great chunks of nasturtium cut near the groimd by 
 Polly, and stuck deep into my yellow bowl, grow and 
 blossom just like outdoors. It's quite wonderful. 
 The shoots put out new leaves and buds in the house, 
 and act perfectly contented. Weedens are still here, 
 they never stayed so late, and " Little Governor " was 
 swimming in the surf last. Wednesday. Jeanie is 
 very nice, almost always she comes to p. m. tea, and 
 we sit chatting before my fire till it grows so dark she 
 can't see me talk. Then I light the candles and Loisy 
 brings the lamp, — but soon Jeanie gathers up 
 Barry, the big dog, and bustles, off* in the glowing, 
 fading light of the west, with a small moon above. 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 387 
 
 Then we draw the window-shades, Loisy and me, in 
 fact, I have pulled them down by accident, so we pin 
 up shawls, I read my newspapers till it 's time for 
 my little meal on tlie little p. m. tea-table, of cold 
 breast of Cornelia (I mean her "faowls") and but- 
 tered toast. I am reading millions of things, new 
 and old, but go to bed sedulously at eight sharp. 
 Loisy is reading the " Peterkins " ! She thinks it 
 splendid about the salt in the coffee, but I fear she 
 takes it rather seriously. I am surprised at her 
 prowess in reading. It is painful, but sure. I started 
 her first on the " Call of the Wild," which is splen- 
 did — all about a dog, you know, — and she passed 
 examination upon it with comments far more intel- 
 ligent than those of my late guest, Mrs. . . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Mks. William G. Weld 
 
 7 A.M. 72°. 
 Susan's Roost, Malvern, February 26, WOJ^. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE, — I wlll Write you about my 
 glorious two days' drive to this place before I forget 
 about it. I always think of you as I am driving 
 along in my buggy, bolt upright, with my small trunk 
 strapped on behind, the Angel sitting up in front 
 amongst the driver's legs, and a Jamaica basket by 
 my side, containing my luncheon and a few oranges. 
 My only wrap is my light fur-tippet, and I sometimes 
 travel in my white wrapper, but this time I had on 
 my black-and-white foulard. It rained occasionally, 
 but there was a rug in the carriage to put over my 
 legs. Dan had an india-rubber cover, and if he did 
 get wet the sun came out and dried him up. 
 
 We started at 7 a. m. from Browns Town and drove 
 forty-five miles that day. The first part of the way 
 
388 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I went up tlie Cave Valley road along the side of a 
 sort of Canyon, winding in and out, quite civilised, 
 with little houses dotted along on the heights, and 
 some large estates. It is all wooded, you know. The 
 sun was just touching the hilltops when we started, 
 and soon came into our road and made ferns and 
 morning-glories, wet with dew, all sparkle. "N^H^ien we 
 got to Cave Valley it was still early. Strange to say, 
 this is a flat plain delivered over to sugar-cane, and 
 there is a sugar-mill at work there, and people cutting 
 the canes, and the dead stalks, like Indian corn, strew- 
 ing the ground. I asked a man, and he gave me a 
 long stalk of sugar-cane for me to gnaw the end of 
 it. It is rather good, almost the only sweet thing in 
 Jamaica that is not too sweet 
 
 At Bowbridge we rested the horses in a cluttery 
 little town consisting of a row of shops with no fronts 
 to them. I bought a basket oif a woman's head that 
 I liked. When I asked her if she would sell it, she 
 said, " No, missy." But it seems she had nothing 
 to do with it, for her mistress, a pretty (dark) lady 
 in white, stepped up and said, " Oh, yes," and or- 
 dered the basket off. They went into the chief de- 
 partment store of the place, a shed with one shelf 
 rimning along for a counter, took all the things out 
 of the basket, yams, I guess, and gave it to me for 
 a shilling. Thus I started my luncheon-basket. I 
 think they put their things in a pannia that was on 
 the side of a donkey thereabouts. 
 
 Then began the most glorious winding about in 
 lofty lanes along the edge of mountain-tops, looking 
 off over deep valleys to other hills, all clothed, you 
 know, with masses of foliage. This was Manchester, 
 a parish in the middle of the island where there is, 
 so to speak, not an inch of level ground. There are 
 low places where they have tucked bananas, but often 
 it is sheer precipice on either side along the road, 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 389 
 
 up and down. The mile-posts kept saying so many 
 miles to Kendal, but I wished to avoid Kendal, for 
 there it is railroad, which spoils these places, too 
 much like West Ne"\vton, so we turned off at Spaidd- 
 ing and began asking the way to Mile Gully. The 
 post-mistress said to go a road, which we went. A 
 man on a donkey later on said that was wrong. The 
 trouble is there are two Mile Gullys. I had my (very 
 inadequate) map, and, in fact, we went the right 
 way, only it was longer than my keepers had prophe- 
 sied in Browns Town, and by the time we came to 
 the foot of an awful hill, the horses were pretty tired. 
 We had to pay a boy sixpence to take them by the 
 nose and persuade them up, while Dan walked by the 
 side, applying the whip. I don't say the lash, be- 
 cause that, which was of twine, had come off. Don't 
 mention this to " Cruelty to Animals," please. It 
 might get me into trouble. In general the darks are 
 very considerate of their beasts, and drive gently, 
 and so did Dan. At tlie top of the hill there was a 
 church, named Bethany, and, oh ! the most glorious 
 view away over to the Santa Cruz mountains, for 
 we had climbed the ridge and left the Manchester 
 bowl behind. But here darks were engaged in mend- 
 ing this same dreadful road, which went ribboning 
 down before us. The Chief of the Menders advanced, 
 and in the most affable manner cried, " Welcome, my 
 dear friends, but I must regret that you chose this 
 moment, for you must see that we are engaged in 
 making the road for you." He is a retired army 
 officer, very English, here for his health, with only 
 a part of one lung, appointed Superintendent of 
 Roads for that parish by Government. He went on, 
 " Your friends, the Pickerings, — for I see by your 
 fur-tippet that you come from their Boreal Region 
 — think this the most perfect part of Jamaica." He 
 knew them well. You know they came here two or 
 
390 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 three years ago to get a clear atmospliere for inspect- 
 ing Eros, the new planet which is nearer the sun than 
 anybody else. They made lots of friends here, and 
 Mrs. Pickering was very popular. I believe they 
 were delighted with the island, but I have not seen 
 them since. We asked our man, who was named 
 Garrett, about Mile Gully, and he said, "You are 
 there, you are there," waving his hand, "but look 
 at the road." We did look at it, and I told Dan to 
 go ahead, through the crowd of stone-pickers, who 
 were making it worse in order to be better. At the 
 foot of the long hill we came on the Police Station 
 we had been told to look out for. These are fine 
 buildings, placed one in every parish by Govern- 
 ment. I think they serve as jails, and that the police 
 (all darks), when they meet a malefactor, just take 
 him by the scruff of the neck and haul him into the 
 station for further orders. The service is admirable 
 all over the island, and perfect quiet prevails. 
 
 ISTow you must know that our Browns Town post- 
 mistress had written to Lyndhurst, Mile Gully, to 
 ask Mrs. Coke to take us in at her lodging for that 
 night. Owing to the maiiana methods of the tropics 
 no answer came, but I had to write to Malvern to tell 
 these people here to meet me there, which I had done, 
 Avhen, lo ! just as I was leaving Browns Town, post- 
 mistress got a telegram saying there was no room at 
 Lyndhurst. The reason for the delay was that Ash 
 Wednesday being a holiday, all post-ofiices were shut, 
 and all telegrams only go from and to post-offices, 
 which is why it took a week for my message to go 
 forty-five miles. I left a telegram and a shilling to 
 Mrs. Coke, to say, " Miss Hale has started. Please 
 find lodgings near you," or words to that effect. You 
 can imagine I felt rather goose-flesh on approaching 
 her gates. However, we drove on inquiring for Lynd- 
 hurst. It was a good five miles from our man, who 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 391 
 
 said we were there, and two miles beyond Mile Gully 
 Post-ofSce. Everybody said to drive to a big cotton- 
 wood tree and then straight on through the gate, 
 which would be open, and so it was, and we entered 
 an enchanting glade. It reminded me of those big 
 estates we drove through on the way to, you know 
 what, in California, only instead of live-oaks there 
 are mangoes and bread-fruit trees dotted about. 
 
 We came to the Great House by and by, settled in 
 the middle of a great pen, surrounded by its own 
 forest, a low, long house in a little fenced garden, 
 full of roses. A pretty lady came to the door, whom 
 I met mth ample apologies. She replied rather 
 coldly, " I had to receive you after your telegram. 
 Your horses are here already," i. e., Lawrence's mules 
 already out at pasture along with the Coke beasts. 
 She showed me into the daughter's room, evacuated 
 for me, close by the grand salon of entrance. In fact 
 it was only a bluff their sending word " I^o room," 
 and I will now say that these people are no lodging- 
 keepers but the Fat of the Land, as if I had driven 
 into Martha Williams' front yard and demanded bed 
 and board. It was the post-mistress's fault, and ap- 
 parently the way they do things here, but you can 
 imagine that I felt horrid. However, I so pleased 
 the lady and her family with my charms and native 
 dances that they became enamoured of me, urged me 
 stay longer, to come back and bring my friends, etc., 
 etc. She is about fifty, slight, well dressed (she was 
 on her way to a tea), looked sort of like Louisa Fes- 
 senden. Her husband is one of the chief landowners 
 of the island. She has three sons and seven daugh- 
 ters (and I am sure it was the biggest daughter that 
 objected to having me come). The house is full of 
 glorious old mahogany, family portraits, East India 
 china, plenty books, a piano. We found mutual 
 friends, for her eldest daughter is married to Kerr, 
 
392 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 the great exporting merchant at Port Maria, where 
 I have been staying at the Rectory, and they all 
 wanted to hear about Miss Reece's engagement to 
 Mr. Bovell of Port Maria (my intimate friends). I 
 had a cup of tea and a nap (on my four-poster, as 
 hard as rocks) ; at seven a very pretty dinner was 
 served, soup, fish, roast, grape-fruit from their own 
 trees, black coffee, and we chatted till I dropped with 
 fatigue. 
 
 At six o'clock next morning, after a good bath in 
 my half-calabash tub, Mrs. Coke herself brought my 
 coffee and egg. She and her daughters were starting 
 for (twenty miles) Mandeville, where they go every 
 Saturday to market, to take a music lesson and some 
 other kind of lesson. She had sent word by her man 
 to tell my man to bring up my mules at the same time. 
 Her husband, who had been dining somewhere and 
 returned at midnight, put me in my buggy, and I 
 was off before seven o'clock. Meantime Dan, with 
 my other team, had departed at midnight for Browns 
 Town. So Jacky, me, and the mules started for Mal- 
 vern over the ridge and down BogTie Hill, through 
 the Savannahs and up to Lacovia, thence to this place 
 (I must take another half-sheet). Mrs. Coke put 
 me up a luncheon of minced-egg sandwiches, cold 
 chicken, grape-fruit, and I brought along for her 
 little daughter, who is at school not far from here, 
 a big basket of oranges and her umbrella, which she 
 had forgotten at home. The dreadful part of this 
 was that it was impossible to pay for my lodgings 
 (as, of course, I intended). I had to say something 
 about it, but Mrs. Coke waved me aside as a thing 
 of no moment, and I could only express my shame 
 at intruding, so I was glad to be a beast of burden 
 to convey these things to the daughter, especially as 
 it occasioned me no inconvenience. But this is true 
 Jamaica. The people are just as hospitable as they 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 393 
 
 can be, and, as a matter of fact, they thirst to see 
 ( decent) people from the outside Avorld. Fancy ! Mrs. 
 Coke has never been to Port Maria where her daugh- 
 ter lives, nor Montego Bay, nor to any of the places 
 I have seen in Jamaica, except Kingston, where they 
 now can go by rail. The railroad cuts through the 
 middle of their grounds, but it is so remote that you 
 neither hear, see, nor smell it. To be sure there is but 
 one train each way daily, and the station is three 
 miles off. 
 
 Jacky and me changed mules for horses at Barton's 
 Isles do^vn below. Along there we began to see the 
 sea, but lost it again to climby-climby the Santa Cruz 
 mountains. It was two o'clock when we got here — 
 over ninety miles in the two days. I love it. I mean 
 to have one more go in the buggy before I leave the 
 island. 
 
 And here it is rapturous, as I wrote you last year, 
 no doubt. At present Eev. Chancy and Mrs. are 
 here, as delighted as I am vnth the climate, the view, 
 the people, the animals and all. I have your letter 
 of January 25. I am very bad about writing this 
 year. No time! I will try now to do better. 
 
 Loving Susie. 
 
 To Miss Maey E. Williams 
 
 LucEA, Jamaica, Tuesday, March 15, 1904.. 
 
 DEAE MAMIE, — You must kuow that as I drive, 
 alone, in my buggy, it often happens that I have some 
 one particular person with me, and all my thoughts 
 sort of take the form of telling that person what I 
 see and enjoy on the road. You were that person 
 yesterday, so now I will try to tell you about it, but, 
 of course, all my brilliant thoughts have escaped me 
 by this time. . . . 
 
 Now, you see, I have been staying at a place called 
 
394 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Mackfield for two or three days, and there I had a 
 funny time. It is a beautiful "hotel" high up on 
 a little mountain, remote from the world, with a 
 parapet built all round the really ancient house, like 
 a castle, and a glorious view for miles away, looking 
 down into valleys over beautiful forests. Judge 
 Burke advised me to go there; they are just moved 
 there from Malvern, and when I reached my lofty 
 castle the people showed me the Burkes' house down 
 below, as we look down on Weedens' — only this is 
 much higher. I was enraptured with my room on the 
 battlement looking off over the abyss, there was ab- 
 solutely nobody else in the house except the very- 
 affable landlady, Mrs. Munroe, and her spouse, — 
 for the servants are always poked off into remote 
 holes. But in the p. m. Mrs. Burke, a pretty lady of 
 a good Jamaica family (white), took me to drive, and 
 she told me such yarns about the place that I got 
 quite scared (not really, but perhaps a little nervous). 
 It appears the woman's husband has a dreadful tem- 
 per, beats his wife, maltreats the servants, takes all 
 the money. Now I had thought him quite a beauti- 
 ful man, ugly, but with a courtly bearing, very polite 
 to me, pointing out things in the landscape, so I had 
 confided everything to him, and engaged his horses 
 to take me thence to this place on Monday, — but 
 Mrs. Burke said that was dreadful, that he had no 
 horses, had no decent carriage, had no driver. So 
 I went to bed that night imagining all sorts of things. 
 It is the still-est place I ever was in, silence embodied, 
 I lay awake, expecting to hear shrieks, — and won- 
 dering how I could escape from the place, especially 
 as I was a little short of money, having been now 
 more than a month away from banks and credit. 
 But Mr. Burke, when he came home for Sunday, 
 fixed me all up (took my American check). I guess 
 he gave his wife a wigging for scaring me, and it 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 395 
 
 was rather foolish of her, seeing it was his advice 
 that took me to the place. She had had a row with 
 Munroes, something about a slop-pail; Burkes are 
 living in a house belonging to Monroes, supposed to 
 be furnished, but not. However, I must confess that 
 I got off early yesterday with a feeling like that of 
 escaping from a robber's den, or rather an ogre's 
 castle. The ogre was affable to the last, he smiled 
 gently with his one tooth, receipted the bill which 
 was most moderate, fastened my things on the buggy 
 (a very comfortable one), his wife almost shed tears, 
 the servants stood about pressing my shilling apiece 
 close to their palms. " Mr. Duer," a very respectable 
 coachman, borrowed for the occasion, took the reins, 
 and we drove off. ISTothing sinister happened twenty- 
 six miles to this place, one of the horses stumbled 
 once going down a hill, but that might occur any time. 
 The road was enchanting through immense estates, 
 grass-grown, with ruts between. Here, all Jamaica 
 is really divided into great ancestral pens (which 
 have changed hands for the most part), and even the 
 Government roads pass through them by gates at 
 either end, as if we should drive to ISTew York from 
 Boston through your place, and see your hens as we 
 passed by. So that was how I escaped from the 
 ogre's castle, not thrown into his dungeon at all, but 
 with feelings of real regret. 
 
 Now I want to tell you about their hens, for you 
 are a hen-ist. It was my chief joy at Mackfield to 
 see them go to bed in a tree. It's a small orange 
 tree that has grown up from the abyss, and is rather 
 near this parapet, and every night these ridiculous 
 hens come and crane their necks, and fear to fly, and 
 cluck, and go away and come back, and finally, one 
 by one, makes a gTcat clumsy leap and lands, bounce ! 
 in the middle of earlier comers. Finally the cock, 
 with equal hesitation, but a great air of bravery, 
 
396 
 
 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 makes a spring with a squawk, and comes down 
 kechimk! on a mass of liens, his legs slip down 
 amongst them, he gives one crow to announce to the 
 world that he and his family are turned in, then he 
 spreads himself over them like a bed-quilt, and all 
 
 is still. Strange fruit for a small orange tree. Do 
 yours do so ? Other cocks in the neighbourhood were 
 marshalling their hens into other trees with the same 
 mental agitation and tmnult. . . . 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, May 16, 190 J^. 
 7 A. M. 50°. Wind west but raw with fogs. 
 JS'ELLY, — The first thing I did on Saturday was 
 to take down " Henrietta " by Charlotte Lennox and 
 read it straight through. I had been longing to do 
 this to refute the slighting remarks of little Master 
 Dobson in his preface to " Miss Burney " about Len- 
 nox. Bet five cents he never read the book, and / say 
 it is remarkably sprightly and clever. Anyhow I made 
 the " Elder Blows " roar with laughter when I read 
 it to them in Mrs. Olmsted's house some centuries 
 ago. Of course, that might have been my wit — but 
 not all. There 's a scene in a stage-coach worth pre- 
 serving as a picture of the times, and the characters 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 397 
 
 are excellent throughout. Of course I skipped Hen- 
 rietta's previous history which she related between 
 pages 41-176, at one sitting. 
 
 However, that's no consequence. Mister Brown- 
 ing says I 'm remarkable. He don't know as he ever 
 see a gyirl of twenty ser spry as I be, — and he hopes 
 I '11 continner so. He just delivered himself of these 
 remarks on the occasion of bringing in cedar sticks 
 left from the old fence, for there 's a new one all 
 along the place from the Libr'y to Goodchildses. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Mary B. Dinsmook 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June, 190 If.. 
 ... So I have invented reading in bed with my 
 table shoved to overlap the pillows, with an excellent 
 candle on it. There till nine '' close couched " with 
 the thicket, of course, shedding cold dews and wild 
 flowers on my head, I hear the bafEed pack down- 
 stairs, or hawking up to bed themselves at nine. 
 Then out goes my candle, and me — to sleep. Thus 
 I have enjoyed the " Singular Miss Smith." Have 
 you read it ? It is quite a book or rather a skit, with 
 singular lapses in construction. I wish I knew what 
 you would think of it. I am now reading " Wings 
 of the Morning," a rank tale of ship^vreck. Robinson 
 Crusoe "isn't in it" compared to the lady and her 
 man who found palm-trees and turtles' eggs and oc- 
 topuses and a well-built two-storey apartment, all 
 ready made after going to pieces in a great steamer. 
 Before " The Chosen " came (have you read " Bene- 
 factress"?), I was steeped in Bernard Shaw. I am 
 always fairly well posted, but now I have bought 
 and read all his plays " pleasant or unpleasant." 
 This came from seeing " Candida " in Boston. 
 
398 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 Our great event is Carla Atkinson's arrival. You 
 know she has bought a piece of land from Mr. 
 Weeden, and built a little house on top of a hill 
 overlooking Perch Cove, — sort of on the way over 
 to " No thoroughfare " and Hannah's cart-track. 
 There are seven cot-beds in it, and therefore room for 
 a " week-end " party of seven, including the cook, 
 over July 4. It is very cosy, pretty, simple, modern, 
 and Carla is very hapi^y, — so nice to have this taste 
 of matrimony, so to speak, without the incumbrance 
 of man. People give her setting-up presents, cups and 
 saucers, a settle that becomes a dinner table, and the 
 like, and she consults me on the subject of lamb and 
 butter. There was great cause for anxiety about 
 water and the neighbours were sure there " wom't " 
 none to be got on that hill. To their dismay ( I mean 
 the neighbours') the men boring (I mean boring the 
 hole not our ears with lamentations) struck water at 
 one hundred and seventy feet. In fact they've got down 
 to China, as I have expressed it, and are now drink- 
 ing Oolong tea. She is to have a wind-mill, and is 
 getting five gallons a minute, and can, if she wants, 
 have a perpetual fountain as high as her house. She 
 has one maid (who cooks), who used to live in the 
 Atkinson family, an excellent buxom person, named 
 Statia, who goes to church mth my gilt-edged ladies. 
 And why should I refrain from saying that my Nelly 
 O'Brien is the sweetest thing you ever saw, rosy 
 cheeks, white teeth, bright eyes, invented by her 
 mother, who is my General Purveyor of Help. In 
 fact, when I lift mine eyes, it is not to the hills 
 whence cometh my help, but to Mrs. O'Brien, a 
 coachman's wife vnth. a large family, cross-eyed, ac- 
 quainted not only with grief (her husband drinks — 
 some), but with all the gilt-edged ladies who work on 
 Back Bay. Old Mary Mullin conceived the idea of 
 bringing this Nelly (aged nineteen, this is her first 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 399 
 
 place) to be my chambermaid, and Mary holds her 
 in the hollow of her hand, to do half her work; in- 
 cidentally allowing her to make the beds and (some- 
 times) hook my gown under the left arm where I 
 can't reach. Loisy meanwhile cooks serenely, and the 
 deceased sister's husband is the comfort of my life, 
 doing all those things that Father Browning ought to 
 have done. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 DEAR CARLA, — I keep forgetting to tell you that 
 you owe me nine dollars for nine legs of lamb. I 
 think it has worked very well. This is your lamb, 
 
 poor thing, a mere skeleton, all hind legs, while Rose's 
 are all " fores." 
 
 What a nice time we had at dinner! I am fine 
 to-day. ISTo roaring ears, perfectly normal. 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, Michaelmas 
 Day, September 29, 190^. 
 DEAR SISTER, — The bridge is in my head, and a 
 " Bridge of Size," as well as a " Bridge of Sighs," 
 indeed. It hurt awfully having it in, it cuts the 
 gums so, you know, and in fact the whole side of my 
 face was very full of pain until I went to sleep at 
 
400 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 night. Perhaps the jogging of the train was sooth- 
 ing, but I didn't feel so, exactly. 
 
 However, all was rapture here. The pond which 
 I left a sere green is all aflame with scarlet and yel- 
 low reflected, at six this morning, in glass. Polly 
 says it changed all in one night with the cold snap. 
 Louise hadn't ate the duck, at all, and her George 
 had dug oysters down to the Salt Ponds, so I had a 
 delicious stew of them, very grateful to my abraded 
 palate (and a small slice of cold duck) at five, with 
 a cup of tea. Bed at seven-thirty after a chat with 
 Mr. Weeden and Polly in front of my nice little fire 
 and the two cats. . . . 
 
 I will stop now on this, as my head is rather buzz- 
 ing with recent travel and jig-saws in my mouth. . . . 
 
 Dr. Piper was full of compliments for my " forti- 
 tude," as he calls it. How can a person shriek or any 
 of those things with a head full of napkins tied down 
 by garters. 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 Susie. 
 
 It was very nice for us to be all together, was n't it ? 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, October 3, 190^. 
 
 CAROLINE dear, — I had a regular circus in Boston 
 with my dentist, had to stay a week, longer than I 
 intended or desired. But I have a fine mouthful 
 of teeth now that will last me out, and quite remark- 
 able he says for a lady of my age. . . . 
 
 I had a horrible time. You see a tooth broke in the 
 back of my head, the mainstay of my celebrated 
 "bridge." The dentist decided to move all my chew- 
 ing machinery to the other side of my mouth; 
 whereon he moved in there himself, taking buzz-saws 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 401 
 
 and chewing-gum and rubber pipes and table-cloths, 
 and remained there four days. When he came out, 
 rather exhausted, I was a wreck but the results are 
 excellent. 
 
 Write, write! 
 
 Your loving Susie. 
 
 To William B. Weeden 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 DEAR MR. WEEDEN, — In our family conference, I 
 forgot to say that I have accomplished '' The Chippen- 
 dales." I now return them with thanks. The book 
 is really very clever, and wonderfully accurate. The 
 only question I ask is, if it 's worth while ; moreover, 
 the last fifty to one hundred pages are clear, sheer 
 rubbish ; I feel as if whatever Wards, Wigglesworths, 
 Warrens, Quincys of Park Street exist must tremble 
 lest their fine old ancestors turn in their graves at 
 the rumour even of that surreptitious child being 
 bom " in their midst," and come forth to refute the 
 charge. However, I have been very much entertained 
 by the book, and it puts me back in the early fifties 
 (mine and the century's) when I was in the thick 
 of it. 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Dahabieh " Aziz," off El Kab, 
 February 1, 1905. 
 my dearest CAROLINE, — We are frozen to death, 
 chilled to the bone, quaking in every limb, and drift- 
 ing down river hind-side before, against a howling 
 north wind, which is taking native boats joyously 
 up to Assouan. But we have been there and done 
 
402 LETTERS OF SUSAN" HALE 
 
 it, and want now to get back to Cairo, for our time 
 is up, and the bottom has come out, not of the Wile, 
 but of our delightful, dawdling, amazing (but not 
 warm) trip, since December 16, when we left Cairo. 
 I have your splendid letter of December 18 received 
 coming up river 16th of January at Luxor (where, 
 by the way, our letters are again accumulating). I 
 kind of envy you in Boston, in your nice warm house 
 with every kind of artificial heat at your back, but 
 I hate to have you stay there all winter. You must 
 not let go of travelling. I hope to have many another 
 good spin with you and Louisa, if ever I get out of 
 this scrape ! — not but what it 's a good scrape, as you 
 know. . . . But this is not describing the camel or 
 the palm, for which see my letters thirty-five years 
 ago, when I did them full justice. They are right 
 here all the same, and so are the temples ; but how the 
 towns are changed, Cairo, Luxor, Assouan, mere 
 replicas of Paris, and, alas! and, alas! for Philse. 
 Was the barrage done when you were up last? We 
 rowed into the bed of Pharaoh, as if it were a bath- 
 tub. Cleopatra was holding up her petticoats and 
 Horus preparing for a dive. We had a jovial picnic 
 day there (I suppose you did) ; going by rail to 
 Shellah, then in a native boat, amidst yelling and 
 fighting to the Temples, then rowed to the barrage, 
 which we climbed up on, and Mrs. P. and I were 
 trundled in a little car, the others walking, over rails, 
 the one and a quarter miles long it is, to the locks, 
 where there is a bungalow for the engineers. There 
 our dragoman, Sala, was in his glory. We had a de- 
 licious luncheon on the yellow sands, and saw a great 
 steamer go up through the lock. Then other Nubians 
 rowed us down the old cataracts (what is left of them) 
 to the town again past yellow sands and great, black, 
 gleaming rocks, and through turbulent waters to our 
 cosy boat, a real home to come back to, where we daily 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 403 
 
 watch the sunset after p. m. tea on the divans of our 
 pretty upper deck. 
 
 Then we had visitors (and at Luxor as well), the 
 Whitehouse parents of Kemson are there and came to 
 tea. They are dears, and have been to all the places 
 we have, and settled down on Assouan as the best 
 (I think it is a loathely spot). Then we had two of 
 the five Hooper girls to luncheon (dear old Dr. 
 Hooper's grandchildren). Two are married, three 
 are here, they travel round together with no chap- 
 erone. 'No doubt there is safety in numbers. One 
 wants to know about stars and I told her. 
 
 At Luxor were the Lindon Smiths (he that bought 
 the "Velasquez " for Boston) travelling, no, living, 
 with his Pa and Ma, his pretty wife (a G. P. Put- 
 nam), their two little girls and a doll, living very 
 cheaply in a dahabieh, and copying Horus and 
 Ramses off the walls of Karnak. He is a great friend 
 of Russell Sullivan. She is by the way of being a 
 beauty. They dined with us, and so did Mr. Preble, 
 who is travelling with his aunt, who is eighty, Mrs. 
 Sweet, and pays the bills. My friends the Theodore 
 Davises are at Luxor still, tied up on the opposite 
 bank, because he has business with Queen Hatasu 
 over there in the Tombs of the Kings. I love them 
 all, I mean the party Da\'is, and wish I could be more 
 with them. But we have settled down very comfort- 
 ably to our vie a quatre. The Longfellows are old 
 Nile-ists (their sixth or seventh trip up river), so 
 they are as biases as I am about cartouches and things, 
 and we are doing the smallest possible amount of 
 Temples and donkeys . . . but Mrs. Perkins is full 
 of enthusiasm and goes to everything, reads Amelia B. 
 and Baedeker, and keeps us up to the mark. Ernest 
 is an amusing fellow. We have lots of jokes and fun, 
 read aloud, and dawdle. I will write some more when 
 our future plans crystallise. Loving Susan. 
 
404 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Mart E. Williams 
 
 Ha! Escaped from the Nile! 
 
 Dampfer ScHLEswie, March 10, 1905. 
 
 DEAREST MoiMiTCH, — You shall have this letter. 
 Never was anyone so bad as I have been about writ- 
 ing. It was so to speak impossible on the Nile, 
 ' _ cabined, close, confined ; — but now ! 
 Susan is herself again, her foot on 
 her native Mediterranean. Let joy 
 be unconfined. 
 
 I found your dear letter in Cairo, 
 of February 14, on March 30 ; was n't 
 it quick by the way? One obstacle 
 to writing on the Nile was receiving no letters. 
 I got them all, except three times in eleven weeks, in 
 a bunch on arrival. We stopped at Shepheards a 
 week, came off on Wednesday for this ship. We are 
 on our way to Marseilles and thence across to Algeria, 
 where we shall be about a month, then back to Cannes, 
 in April, to get my night gowns and see lovely quince 
 blossoms and things, then Paris for a week or so, then 
 to snatch some steamer for home about May 1. The 
 winter is over, and these remaining weeks will slide 
 off like turtles from a rock in my pond. Only words, 
 dear Mamie, will describe my experiences; I will 
 promise to be very funny when we meet. . . .It has 
 been (honest) a charming winter and very salutary, 
 and since the weather turned warm I have been 
 happy, but you know those first weeks on the river 
 were really anguish when I prepared my little nest 
 of fur every night in my cabin, and quaked every 
 sunrise in my ice-cold bath. But I 'ni all right 
 now. My celebrated good physique has carried 
 me through. . . . 
 
 I think I must tell you about our leaving our Aziz, 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 405 
 
 the daliabieh — Longfellows', with their maid, got 
 off early, we lingered partly to finish, and partly to 
 have our dear sailors to ourselves. We shook hands 
 with them all on their lower deck. They adore 
 Evelyn, she has been very nice about turbans, back- 
 sheesh, tobacco, etc., while I have amused them 
 greatly by my native dances — ten sailors, the reis, 
 the second reis, the N"ubian cook, the cook boy, — 
 Bed-riddin, the waiter, — Mahommed, the singer, — 
 all these in red turbans with wistful eyes, gleaming 
 teeth, — came up the bank after us and crowded 
 round the carriage, while Saleh, the dragoman, in- 
 terpreted for us. " Saleh," said I, " tell them we love 
 them all." A shout arose from them — they touched 
 their foreheads, some say there were tears in Yellow 
 Jacket's eyes. My Mohammed Said, a sweet boy 
 with slender, buff legs, who always held on to me 
 tight, crossing the gangplank or going to see Temples, 
 had departed with the trunks, — but I had him after- 
 wards in the hotel, and gave him twenty piastres. He 
 is about sixteen, and has a wife and two children. 
 We shall miss these creatures, they are children, so 
 simple. I call them our toys which we have played 
 with all winter ; and now they are put back in their 
 box. I think of putting George Jones, Loisy's spouse, 
 into turban and gown ; would n't you ? 
 
 Speaking of Davis, you know he has dug up Queen 
 Tii, the mother-in-law or something of Amenhotep II, 
 a great " find," with a chariot in excellent condition, 
 a tablet with conversation on it, all manner of things. 
 It is said that Theodore fainted three times with 
 excitement (or more likely the bad air) when he first 
 entered the tomb. They are now coming down the 
 river, but waltzing round as we did probably in ad- 
 verse winds. You know I became very fond of him. 
 He calls me " Aunt Susan," and in an occasional jest, 
 I call him Theodore. ... 
 
406 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I have been terribly afraid old age would set in; 
 but now I believe I shall hold out to get home. Lots 
 of love from 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Caeolhste P. Atkinson 
 
 AND 
 
 Miss Mary E. Williams 
 
 Manhattan, May 18, 1905. 
 
 MY DEAEEST GIRLS, BOTH IN A BUNCH, 1 am SO 
 
 joyous I must write you at once. It almost frightens 
 me to have things go my way so sj)lendidly as they 
 seem to do. I feel as if I must knock wood all the 
 time to keep the charm up. I have arrived this 
 minute, that 's half-past ten, and it is now just twelve. 
 I only waited to get this paper out of my Angel, to 
 tell you all about it. Your dear letters of 14th were 
 both here, with others reassuring me about the safety 
 and health of everybody. One is always nervous just 
 on arriving, don't you think so ? But Parber writes 
 in fine spirits, so I think everybody must be alive, 
 though he don't mention it. (Lovely whistles and 
 things screeching for noon o'clock.) 
 
 In the first place I have had a rapturous voyage as 
 to comfort, with my cabin all to myself, and more- 
 over everybody on the ship fell to adoring me, I never 
 was so " muched " in my life, let alone stewards and 
 " Bad Eraus " that jumped and ran to do my things. 
 There is absolutely no doubt I was the belle of the 
 ship. Very few men, — which was tedious, — and 
 
 the women of a bighly cultured type, which 
 
 bored me, but I could sit in my cabin alone and do 
 my cross-stitch, and read a most dreadfully vile 
 French novel by Marcel Prevost, and an appallingly 
 dull one, Italian, by Deledda, the Sardine. Last 
 evening there were speeches, and I Avas called upon 
 
JAMAICA, MATUNUCK, EGYPT 407 
 
 for one, and sang " Coming through the Rye " with 
 a small German flag that happened to be stuck in my 
 hair, I forgot it was there. I am told that I saved 
 the occasion by doing so. You will think I am dread- 
 fully stuck up, but I am really meek and lowly old 
 womans. Then I had a beautiful smooth time 
 through the Douane, though my trunk was foaming 
 to the top with contraband night gowns and little 
 petticoats, not to say mouchoirs all marked with my 
 name, and pink ribbons run into them; for the cus- 
 tomary man didn't mind them in the least, said I 
 might 'a had more. So I jumped into a carriage 
 with all my goods piled up, and waved at the literary 
 females on their knees before their trunks, and just 
 as we came out of the warehouses, the sun came out 
 and made even Hoboken look like a Garden of Spring 
 Paradise. I caused the driver to open the carriage, 
 and there I sate in a fluffy white boa I have, it cost 
 seven francs fifty in Cannes, and drove up town to the 
 admiration of the provincial New Yorkers. And here 
 I was received most cordially, my telegram (from the 
 wharf) had just arrived, and my favourite No. 604 
 assigned to me. So I came up and read my nice let- 
 ters, and took my night gowns out and looked at 
 them, and now I am writing this. I don't feel half 
 so addled in the head as I usually do, coming off the 
 voyage, but quite equal to going about my business. 
 It is warm, the window open and the river all hazy, 
 and steam coming out of chimneys. . . . 
 
 YouK JOYOUS Susan. 
 
CHAPTEE XII 
 
 LAST YEARS 
 
 (1906-1910) 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 MoNTEGO Bay, January 19, 1906. 
 7:30 a. m. 
 
 DEAR NELLY, ^ — Whatever else happens I must 
 begin my adventures. ... I want to tell about 
 Ulster Springs, where I was reminded, and kept 
 thinking, strange to say, of your little house at Santa 
 Barbara and the fun we had there with an oil-stove. 
 
 But first, the getting off from Browns Town. Oh 
 Heavens, it was high time, for I was becoming so 
 terribly popular (on account of my shillings, soon 
 reduced to sixpences) that the whole populace 
 swarmed around the lodgings, this is slightly figura- 
 tive. But literally, after I got dressed and trunks 
 locked, my hat on, and sate in the veranda, at every 
 moment somebody came with small flowers, or a de- 
 mand of some sort. I had a kind of breakfast at 
 nine-thirty, and at ten mounted my buggy, sur- 
 rounded by Dr. Miller, Gauntelett, Judge Cole, Mrs. 
 Smith, Mrs. Smythe, Mrs. Taafe, and all the darks 
 (Susan, N^ora, Letty, ^ancy, Cecil, and more I can- 
 not name). 
 
 " Start up, Dan ! " I said, and we rolled out of the 
 yard towards Stewart Town. You know I am never 
 so happy as when I thus escape from my keepers, 
 free for hours from the clash of twaddly conversa- 
 tion ; in my cool wash-gown, my serape under me in 
 
LAST YEAES 409 
 
 case of rain, the Angel strapped behind; my trunk 
 gone to S. S. Delta to come by sea (it hasn't arrived, 
 by the way, but it will, no doubt). 
 
 That drive was lovely up to Ulster Springs. I 
 have long wanted to see it. We passed Mahogany 
 Hall, a fine old estate ; there 's a picture of it in that 
 book I 've got, — Dr. Johnson's Guide Book ; then 
 we began to climb, climb, this is in the cock-pit 
 country, you know, so snarly with hills and canyons 
 there are no roads but this, that clings to the cliff; 
 when we were rounding the curve we looked up across 
 the chasm to the palisades up there, sheer rocks bright 
 orange colour, like iron-rust in coral, and by and by 
 lo ! we were up there, but all the time driving through 
 thick woods, looking down on the tops of huge trees 
 on one side, and up to the roots of others on the other. 
 Yet in the middle sort of chasm there are hilltops 
 with houses, and goats going up to them. The forest- 
 side is rampant with ferns ; a wall, thick with them, 
 and some flowers, especially the wild begonia, every- 
 where, much prettier than our house-pot one, its little 
 earrings are brightest carmine and the other pale 
 pink, and it grows more like a vine. Well, it 's about 
 twenty-two miles up to Ulster Springs from Browns 
 Town, and naturally it's at the top of everything, 
 gloriously looking off over mountains rather distant. 
 IsTow you must know Miss Moses is the post-mistress 
 there, and she wrote to beg me to come and put up 
 with her (no lodgings) at her post-office. So we drew 
 up before the sweetest little house, this is what re- 
 minded me of yours, all covered with purple (mauve) 
 Thunbergia, the blossoms as big as a tea-cup. This 
 picture is the whole of the house. The window is 
 the post-office on a veranda with steps ; a door leads 
 into a sitting room (with a piano!) that takes up all 
 the house concealed by a vine, but back of the post- 
 office is a tiny bedroom, where they had conceived 
 
410 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I should sleop, and a sort of passageway where a 
 sweet dinner table was already set with all the 
 luxuries of the season. It was about 3 p. m. The 
 only light of the little place w^as the door with steps 
 leading down to the kitchen across the yard. I had 
 a nap on the little very hard bed in the bedroom. 
 
 Well Anne Moses is twenty-four, she says; she is 
 quite like Mrs. Joe Browning, you know, librarian 
 at Matunuck, very sweet in manner, intelligent, and 
 a power in the place. She has two friends who came 
 in to help cook the dinner and serve it, not in the 
 least menial spirit — for after the meal they all re- 
 tired by turns to this tiny bedroom, and put on rich 
 shirt-waists with pink skirts and did their hair and 
 hung themselves about with beads. I took greatly to 
 these girls, they were so wholesome and nice and had 
 taken such pains for me, and Lena had made the 
 pudding and there was cake, and mounds of fruit 
 which I brought away with me in a. newspaper. Miss 
 Moses is a worker, runs the tox^m as well as P. 0., I 
 should think. She owns two or three cows which 
 have calves from time to time, as a good investment 
 of her earnings. She is to be promoted to Springs 
 P. O., so she will never be there again. While we 
 sate under the Thunbergia vine, people came on 
 horses, donkeys, or legs, to get their letters, and I 
 amused myself by telephoning back to Browns Town 
 how happy I was — we telephoned to Miss Scott and 
 her aid, the P. O. mistress there, and could hear them 
 chuckling over my message, Avhich they straightway 
 communicated to the lodgings. Was n't this fun ! 
 
 But meanwhile. Judge Cole had written to the 
 Sergeant of Police that I was to sleep in the Court 
 House, and though this was a disappointment to my 
 girls, the glory of it was such they could not gainsay 
 it, so after a stroll in the gloaming, they escorted me 
 thither and left me pretty early, as I was tired-er 
 
LAST YEARS 411 
 
 than dogs, but shortly after they left, their minion 
 came up my steps with a tray and hot coffee, as a 
 sleeping cup ! 
 
 Now for the night. The gTeat big stone Court 
 House with not a soul in it or near it, on the highest 
 point of Ulster Springs, looking off on glorious stars 
 and mountains, none of the doors were locked, and 
 my room opened into the great court-room, where the 
 judge sits in his wig, and judges. In the middle 
 of the night I came out and prowled and looked at 
 the stars from the outer door, which I left open all 
 night. The bed delicious, a rapturous dream of ease. 
 At dawn, which isn't very early now, I came out 
 and foimd the east veranda commanded a glorious 
 view. Mrs. Brooks, a deaf lady with one tooth, was 
 rather late in turning up to bring my bath in a cala- 
 bash, which she set down in the room where criminals 
 wait for judgment ; because that floor is only common 
 boards she didn't mind slopping on, — and after- 
 wards she made some rather poor coffee, which I 
 sipped in the sunrise. Dan, it seems, was sleeping 
 in my buggy under the shed outside (not having 
 friends at Court as I did). He put in the horses, 
 and we came off (a shilling pressed in the hand of 
 the old lady) stopping at P. 0. for another and better 
 cup of coffee Miss Moses insisted on preparing for 
 me. She would not take any pay for the lodgings : — 
 but I bought a piece of drawn-work they made 
 amongst them, l^ow warn't that fun ! Later : — 
 9 A. M. Same Day. — Nothing doing in this excel- 
 lent house, so I will fatten this letter, as Lucretia 
 used to say, and send it double. 
 
 Again the drive was beautiful, repeating the same 
 as far as Mahogany H!all, for Ulster Springs is the 
 end of all things in the other direction. It had 
 rained, and mist was hanging over things, in fact 
 it was quite cool for here. We came down through 
 
412 LETTEKS OF SUSAK HALE 
 
 Duncan Town to the well-known (by me) road tliat 
 runs all along the north side of the island, and came 
 to Falmouth by noon ; we had started so early. IsTow 
 here was Mrs. Jacobs in her brand-new lodgings, in 
 a formerly bank building just opposite the Court 
 House. I was in Falmouth my first year, and at 
 Mrs. Jacobs' lodgings, it was then an awful place, 
 the terror of Jamaica, but she even then was a worthy 
 woman, deaf, with one tooth. The tooth is lost now, 
 so I didn't know her at first, but recognised her by 
 the deafness. She was in raptures to show off her 
 splendour, only deeply grieved I wouldn't stay, in 
 fact offended that I did n't, but how could I ! though 
 for creature comforts I would fain have lingered in 
 that excellent bed, in a huge room with grand old 
 mahogany furniture, wide windows with little hang- 
 ing balconies to them, the whole house to myself, 
 doors standing open, great mahogany doors that don't 
 shut very well on account of the brass knobs being 
 loose. 
 
 " And there 's a garret," said she with honest pride, 
 in showing me over the house, and climbed me up 
 there. The Inspector of the Port lives there, and 
 indeed he is to be envied his gi*eat room as big as the 
 whole top-story at Matunuck, with a view from Mon- 
 tego to Port Antonio (exaggeration) and strong sea 
 breeze. He used to live in a hole at her old lodgings, 
 which has been the only place for him to be. This 
 rez de chaussee used to be the bank, a great bam 
 sort of place, where she serves excellent meals, to 
 droppers-in from the town, and the Inspector. I am 
 her first real lodger, and she clung to me, " You 
 stayed a month in Browns Town ! " she lamented. 
 " Oh, but you know I have a great many friends in 
 Bro\^Tis Town." " You would have as many here as 
 soon as it was known," said she. 
 
 You may wonder why she has this passion for me, 
 
LAST YEARS 413 
 
 seeing I only passed one night at her horrid lodgings 
 in 1902; — but such is my fatal fascination in this 
 island. Miss Moses' ground for worship was merely 
 that I didn't stop at all at Ulster Springs, passing 
 through the previous time. Another good bed, and 
 the reason I carry on so about the bed, is, that at Dry 
 Harbour is a gridiron, and at Browns Town disgrace- 
 ful, hard and also untidy. There were tsvo ink-spots 
 on my pillow by which I recognised it for ten days 
 before leaving. At Falmouth the sheets were of 
 clean, coarse linen, with the perfume of a kind of 
 dried sticks they have instead of lavender. I saw the 
 Great Bear for the first time there. You know the 
 Pole Star is very low, so near the tropics, and the 
 Bear below the line of hills generally, but at midnight 
 there it was reared / 
 
 up like this over the / 
 
 Carib. Sea. A small 
 niece of Mrs. J. came 
 and bored me inces- 
 santly there, sitting in 
 my room all the p. m. 
 Another pale child 
 who lives in the P. O. 
 brought a cigar-box 
 full of her treasures to 
 show me, some shells 
 she had covered with tinfoil, a few coins consisting 
 of an English ha'penny, and one of our nickels, and 
 wanted me to buy post-cards of Falmouth, which I 
 had already. I didn't encourage her much, and 
 when she went away (I believe I told her to go 
 gently) I asked l^iece if the other was her best friend. 
 " She is not my friend, I do not know her," she 
 replied. 
 
 But ISTiece was a handy little thing, she took all my 
 shoes, three pairs, brushed and polished them and put 
 
 jS^ 
 
414 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 fresh shoe-strings in — dreadfully disappointed when 
 I insisted on going away. 
 
 But Dan came round at 8 a. m. or thereabouts. 
 (Oh, there is a down-stairs bath at Jacobs', running 
 water in a great stone tank you can float in.) And 
 we drove along without adventure reaching here about 
 one o'clock. It is sugar-cane country along the way. 
 The cane looks just like our Ladian corn, only very 
 likely it is ten or twelve feet high, great fields on 
 either side the road, very pretty, glistening with dew 
 in the distance. This sets the forests back against 
 the hills, remote, and of course a blazing sun on the 
 white road, but there is a sea-breeze, and in spots, 
 cocoanut-palms and thatched-and-wattled villages, and 
 little dark children playing naked in the surf. The 
 bay and shore approaching Montego are lovely, and 
 by and by we rattle through the to"wn and up Church 
 Street to the hospitable house — and my worthy fat 
 ladies. I have described it lots of times. It is not 
 too hot here, everything is very comfortable, even re- 
 fined, the table beautifully served, lots of heavy 
 old family silver, too much to eat. . . . 
 
 I must leave you at last, I want to read over all 
 my letters. 
 
 Loving Susan". 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Malvern, February 8, 1906, 8 a.m., 
 Sweet Place, " Susan's Roost." 
 DEAR NELLY, — I havc just Written your father a 
 little letter for his private ear, but now I must begin 
 on my great yarn of adventures, some of my greatest 
 in Jamaica or anywhere. I have been on a horse ! ! 
 I want to write this to you specially, for I kept think- 
 ing of you and our Lily (once Rogers) and what fun 
 we should have had out of it. As for the special 
 
LAST YEARS 415 
 
 horse part, I want, if I don't change my mind, to 
 write that for Polly Weeden, if I do you shall see 
 that opus at Matunuck next summer. But in this I 
 intend to cover the whole ground of which that is 
 but an episode. 
 
 You see I left Orange Hill on Thursday, Febru- 
 ary 1, 7 A. M., just a week ago, and have not so to 
 speak drawn rein since. It is perfectly lovely there, 
 but (as usual you remark) I was glad to get away, 
 for there is no atom of privacy in that most excellent 
 house, one is continually in evidence, in fact, that is 
 the trouble with Jamaica travelling. If I had a com- 
 panion I should be less beset by over-kind hosts, — 
 but then, — the companion would bore me, as much 
 as the hosts do now. 
 
 " Miss Hale, you sneezed in the night. Alice must 
 close your windows this evening " — and so she did ; 
 of course I opened them, but everybody heard me in 
 the house and I was reproved next day — (but I am 
 wasting time). Another thing is that everybody ob- 
 jects to everything I mean to do, — because they want 
 to keep me (and my two guineas), thus: Miss Ena, 
 late the evening before, came out saying: "Father 
 says it is much farther to Windsor than you think. 
 It is a dreadful place to get to. He has been there ; 
 there is nothing to see, and it will cost you getting 
 there a great deal" (it did cost £2, .but that was none 
 of their business. But I must get on). My nice 
 buggy was at the door, this was Thursday, at 7. Oh 
 another thing. It had been raining pretty consecu- 
 tively for a week so Miss Fanny said, " Shall you 
 go if it re-ans ? " and Miss Julia said : " With your 
 cold (that sneeze) you must not go if it re-ans" 
 (rains). "Oh, I guess it won't rain," said I, and 
 sure enough it did n't and Philip of Wallace's Livery, 
 me and the horses, started down their terrific hill. 
 My trunk (this was another bone of contention) had 
 
416 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 gone bj I'ail to IiDswicli. Alfred, of Mrs. Aaron's, 
 had taken it with me to the station day before, where 
 I paid one shilling, sixpence, and had the receipt. 
 
 It was pretty driving out of Montego Bay, away 
 from the sea now, and, soon after leaving " Adelphi," 
 getting into the thick woods of Trelawney. In fact 
 it is twenty-two miles, and with our good horses took 
 just four hours, without the slightest fatigue. We 
 went through the gates of Windsor Pen five miles, 
 before reaching the Great House, all the way over a 
 road all grass except red ruts for the horses, immense 
 great trees on every side, and their own cattle graz- 
 ing. By and by a brawling river was flowing along, 
 deep malachite or rather jade, with swirling curves, 
 overhung with rose-apple, a sort of willow they have 
 for such purposes. An inner gate brought us to the 
 Common, about as big as Boston Common, and at the 
 back of it, framed in forest the sweet house where 
 the J. Donald Hills live, sweet people I met by 
 chance at Browns Town, where they came to a ball, 
 perhaps I told you. She was determined to have me 
 see Windsor, and here I was. They are entirely 
 Scotch, not a Jamaica touch about them. I have 
 never lived with such a real Scotch accent as theirs, 
 they have scones, and all sorts of Scotch practices. 
 Very refined, intelligent, in fact delightful people; 
 she is small and very gentle with large blue eyes, her 
 manner as gentle as Mrs. Matlack, though she is the 
 most determined little creature, she rules him with 
 a rod of iron, and you will see how she put me 
 through. She has had seven children, six alive, three 
 girls now in Elgin, Scotland, at school, two nice little 
 things here at Windsor, and a great big boy on his 
 bare legs, about to be two on the last day of Febru- 
 ary. All happy, joyous, well employed, healthy, no 
 Jamaica malarial repining. As for J. Donald, he is 
 a perfect dear. He is more like Mr. Weeden than 
 
LAST YEAKS 417 
 
 anything else, — but a Scotch edition, you under- 
 stand. When he goes out in the morning to look after 
 cattle (over one hundred head of various beasts) all 
 the hens tag after him, and it seems part of his busi- 
 ness to give them water out of a cocoanut-husk on top 
 of a wall; he is here, but not 
 always dressed in an old yel- 
 low jacket with sort of pink 
 fustian breeches, and shocking 
 boots which he kicks off, and 
 puts on others, on account of 
 the wet grass, and he walks 
 with a slight crook at the knees 
 through being so much on a ^^ . 
 
 horse. In fact he is generally ^^^^^ 
 
 on a horse when the hens are follo-^^^ng him (but this 
 time he happened to be on foot), and calling out 
 orders in a very Scotch voice, a rapturous man. But 
 he reads, and thinlvs great things; takes the ^Neekly 
 7'imes and is greatly interested in their present poli- 
 tics. I 'm sorry to say he called Gladstone an " auld 
 fule," and thinks "wot a mess they made in South 
 Afriky." He has Green's " Short History of 
 England" at hand, and used to read Macaulay's 
 "Essays," but the print of his edition is now too 
 fine for him. If you could see the nature of 
 their lamps you wouldn't wonder. The house is a 
 delight, all on one floor like the others I have 
 described. She paints a little (pas mal) in water- 
 coloiu'S, and had decorative training at a school 
 (Scotch) like South K. Well here I remained Thurs- 
 day, Friday, Saturday and Sunday with the kindest 
 hospitable people, driving through their great pen, 
 calling one day (in the buggy) on the Plunketts at 
 Fontabelle, a large sugar estate about ten miles off 
 in the same forest, — J. Donald in good clothes, and 
 tan shoes ! — or walkine- in and about their o^vn 
 
418 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 woods — but what do you think! She made me get 
 up on a horse to go and see things too difficult for 
 walking, a terrible business to boost me there from a 
 chair, and to wedge my fat leg between the pommels. 
 The horse was most gentle, and we saw wonderful 
 things ; I saw eight green parrots fly out of a cham- 
 pak tree, and I saw for the first time the way choco- 
 late gi'ows, not cocoa, which seems is a root and en- 
 tirely different, whereas chocolate is a great tree with 
 flowers growing out of the bark, and great nuts in a 
 pod (which rats eat). ]^ow on the Monday it was ar- 
 ranged that I should depart going through to Troy up 
 what we call a canyon, chiefly on their estate, no road 
 but a narrow path, and I was to go on a donkey, but 
 what ! ! ! at the last moment no donkey was to be had 
 and I was put up on Nelson, a great horse ! 
 
 Here follows the account of that trip, which I mean 
 to write for Polly. Instead of being nine miles, to 
 take three hours, it was fifteen miles and took nine 
 hours. We constantly had to cut away trees which 
 had fallen across the path with a great cutlass we had, 
 and six or seven times did I have to get off Nelson 
 
 for them to take the 
 saddle off and lead him 
 imder this great slant- 
 ing tree. Then I had 
 to stand on extinct 
 rocks of coral forma- 
 tion and be shoved by 
 main force up on to 
 Nelson again. Dear 
 man, J. Donald Hill, 
 went before on his "pow-ny," but off constantly to 
 tend me, then came Manuel, about Maurice's size, 
 with my Angel on his head, carrying my umbrella, 
 then Downer on foot, leading Nelson, and then me on 
 top of Nelson. It was very beautiful and wonderful, 
 
LAST YEARS 419 
 
 very climbj-climby going up steep precipices, except 
 going down them. My hat was in a flat package 
 slung over Downer's shoulder. It looks finely since. 
 When we came out at Coventry Water, a sort of 
 respite where Windsor ends and Troy begins, merely 
 a field full of bananas, no path, — Mr. Hill returned to 
 his spouse and home. He, you know, never dreamed 
 it would be so rough, for a man from Troy had as- 
 sured them the bush was all cleared away (not 
 much!). "Oh, my," said J. Donald, "I didna 
 dream there could be sic nairs^e (nerve) in a leedy 
 of yore age." And when I bade him tell Mrs. Hill 
 I enjoyed it, he shook his head, '^ I shall na tell her 
 the half on 't, it were too tarrible for her to hear " 
 (but Downer will tell her fast enough, and more than 
 J. Donald knows). For we rode into the town of 
 Troy, in a pouring rain with thunder, and me and 
 ISTelson made this appearance 
 from behind. This is my red 
 Algerine haik pinned round me 
 dripping, my hair down my 
 back, dripping, my combs all 
 lost (but one). But it was so 
 lovely to be pacing along a level 
 path, through the grass, that I 
 did n't mind, and there were no 
 inhabitants. When we came to 
 the P. O. I asked if there was 
 any letter for me, and they 
 yelled out "Yes," and that (the P. O.) was the 
 lodging, and lo ! round the comer in front of the 
 P. O. sate David in my buggy, from Malvern, with 
 the horses resting in the P. O. barn. This was four- 
 thirty in the afternoon. My friend, Anne Moses, 
 post-mistress of Ulster Springs, had ^vritten to Troy 
 friends to look out for me. I w^as taken from N^elson 
 more dead than alive, and led up the outside stairs 
 
420 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 streaming at every pore. That was a funny lodgings. 
 Guess I won't tell about it now. I had all my clothes 
 put in a wash-tub ; next morning, wrung out and put 
 in our buggy, and as we rode along, dried in the sun 
 at our back. Oh, but that bed was good ! Amongst 
 other things I was a mass of tick-bites. It stopped 
 raining in the night, and David and I had a lovely 
 morning to start; it had now become Wednesday, 
 7 A. M. How nice it was to be on a real road without 
 precipices. I had been there before, through Tre- 
 lawney to St. Elizabeths. We drove only fifteen miles 
 that day, through Balaklava to Siloah, where we put 
 up about noon at Mrs. Falder's lodging — that's a 
 funny place ; David saw my trunk sitting at Appleton 
 R. R. Station forwarded from Ipswich, and we picked 
 it up next day. When Mr. Falder came home from 
 " grounds," i. e., hoeing yams in the field, his occupa- 
 tion, he proved to be a dark man, and what! but 
 Uncle to Anne Moses ! of Ulster Springs P. O. He 
 used to live in Browns Town in the tumbledown 
 house opposite my lodgings with his old sister, who 
 was the one that used to send me little bunches of 
 flowers every day, and looks just like her. I got 
 nicely rested there, — discovered a terrific black-and- 
 blue spot on my pommel leg. ^Vhen I came away 
 Mrs. Falder gave me a sweet little chair, mahogany, 
 I am sitting in it. So that day, Wednesday, we came 
 on through Y. S. Middle Quarters, Lacovia, Santa 
 Cruz, got here at 4 p. m. End. 
 
 Your Susie. 
 
 P. S. So don't think of worrying about me, be- 
 cause in the first place I am feeling perfectly all right, 
 and had a glorious rest last ni'ght on a hard but rap- 
 turous bed; when I climbed into it (it is high, four- 
 post mahogany) I exclaimed, " O Rock of Dundas, 
 cleft for me ! " I saw my Scorpio and the Southern 
 
LAST YEAKS 421 
 
 Cross at about five this morning. In the second place, 
 I promise not to do any more rash things ; the rest of 
 my excursions will be either by boat round to Kings- 
 ton, or buggy, or rail (most precarious of all). I 
 think the Chaneys will be up here by and by, — to 
 look after me. It was a foolhardy trip, but I had no 
 idea of it, should not have dreamed of such an under- 
 taking, and the last thing I now or ever desire, is to 
 be on a horse. Little Mrs. J. Donald is responsible ; 
 and she really meant well. She had every reason to 
 suppose the bush had been cut, i. e., the path cleared 
 and then besides, they had no idea of my great age. 
 He knows now full well about my great weight, after 
 boosting me up on the horse, and lifting me down. 
 But everybody here says I am looking younger than 
 ever, and I dare say the shaking-up was good for me. 
 But I promise not to do it again. Besides, you know, 
 it w411 be all over long before you get this, so don't 
 worry. 
 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 September 25, 1906. 
 
 deae caela, — A perfect day ! Why are you not 
 here ! Sun streaming in at every pore or door. 
 There was a frost last night so it feels good, the sun- 
 shine. I have been writing mounds of letters, but 
 there is ten minutes yet before Alvin time. You 
 must, another year, stay long enough to drink this to 
 the lees, it 's the only dregs I like, the very bottom of 
 the summer. There is skurce a cow stirring; even 
 the " Otto's " are at rest. Just a lovely glittering 
 sheen of solitary sunshine from here to Block Island. 
 What a contrast to your stirring life ! It 's terrible 
 to me to think of leaving here. . . . Good-bye. 
 More anon. 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
424 LETTEES OF SUSAIST HALE 
 
 to dress her, and I have made tan stockings out of an 
 old shoe-string, and bought a little tube of burnt 
 sienna to black her shoes with. She can stand alone 
 now, and I am making her underclothes. 
 
 These are my simple pleasures. The food is deli- 
 cious, I eat lots, read wicked French novels till 
 9 p. M., and sleep like a top till 7 a.m. when Angele 
 comes in to fix my (ice-cold) bath. Sounds like 
 the simple life, don't it? Good preparation for 
 Matunuck. Lots of love from 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Hotel de la Plage, April 2, 1907. 
 (Pa's birthday; he's 85.) 
 Kow CAROLINE DEAR, — I liave wondcrful things 
 to relate. Dr. Mermod, a celebrated aurist, specialist 
 catarrhist, etc., etc., of Lausanne was to come to 
 Cannes for one day ; and my doctor wrote him about 
 me. So one day all of a sudden, while I was at 
 dejeuner, I got word that the great man was coming, 
 and lo! after waiting feverishly for him till four- 
 thirty, he burst in like the Angel that troubled the 
 waters when least expected. My doctor was here too. 
 A nice, round, chubby, elderly Angel he was, talking 
 volubly in Swiss French, so I was pretty smart, and 
 not deaf, to keep up with him. He did all their usual 
 little tricks, — with his watch, asking conundrums 
 across the room, and coming nearer and nearer. I 
 can do them pretty well now ; only suddenly he asked 
 something in English which astonished me so I 
 couldn't hear it. He said " twangtee-f arve " and I 
 shook my head; he meant twenty-five. Then he 
 darted away to catch his five-o'clock train. But was 
 a dear really; searched my symptoms, was truly en- 
 couraging, scrabbled instructions for the next eight 
 weeks, and left a recipe for some sour drops to take. 
 
LAST YEARS 425 
 
 Now, my dear, the facts are these, which my doctor 
 had explained to me, and this one corrohorates. My 
 ears are very good ears, and one especially better than 
 nsual for old ladies, — what is troubling me is roar- 
 ing noises in my head. Seems this is a common 
 malady to approaching old age, — the arteries leading 
 to the head get stiffened, and it is more difficult for 
 the blood to pass through to the head, so it don't like 
 to do so. So the blood makes a noise going through, 
 and the* ears, being right there hear the noise, which 
 is disagreeable for me. If you give your mind to it 
 you will understand. It seems it is quite common to 
 people growing old, and all aurists know about it, and 
 I guess my other doctors have known, only they hated 
 to tell me. It was kind and wise of my Doctor 
 Bright to tell me. His plan was to build up my 
 " general health " in order to make me able to endure 
 it, and in fact I was (and am) getting ready to get 
 used to the noise, as one may and does always accus- 
 tom oneself to the inevitable; and we have, both of 
 us, got used to worse things than having a perpetual 
 steam-engine in the top of the head. But lo! now! 
 comes the ]\Ian of Lausanne, and says it has in many 
 cases been arrested and may be in my case, with his 
 treatment, and my "remarkably fine physical condi- 
 tion," for a lady of seventy-three. It's exciting, is 
 it not ? They say, by the way, that I shall live twenty 
 years, — anyhow — and so maybe I can go and open 
 the Panama Canal. . . . 
 
 But I want you to know just " where I am at," for 
 you are my only comforter in this pass that I have 
 come to. . . . 
 
426 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Khode Island, July 16, 1907. 
 
 MY DEAK CAEOLiNE, — T miist give jou a glowing 
 account of my circumstances, they are so fascinating ; 
 but you know I'm a wreck, and it's impossible to 
 combine time and wits to write, so I am rapidly ceas- 
 ing to be a Lady of Letters. In the iirst place I'm 
 deaf as a post, but that's no matter compared with 
 my roaring ears, which makes my head giddy, and 
 makes me wobble when I walk. But that 's no matter 
 either, compared with the fact that my cook is dead, 
 my celebrated Loisy ! Also, my ram is dead, the old 
 hydraulic ram that used to throw water from the 
 pond to my tank in the top of the house. I have a 
 brand-new (and hideous) wind-mill instead, but it 
 don't wind worth a cent. It comes between me and 
 my lovely pond, spoiling the ^^ew utterly. I see it 
 now from my window with its tongue hanging out, 
 not doing a darned thing; while Mary, my house- 
 maid, is hauling water in pails and tugging them up 
 to the top-storey to the empty tank. 
 
 I have a new waitress, a foaming idiot ; she started 
 in to cook, but she can't cook, so I have another, but 
 the new one took to her bed to-day, so Twoomey 
 (that's the Idiot, her name is Minnie Twoomey) 
 cooked the breakfast while I set the table. I 've got 
 the parents here, and Nelly, and Miss Clark, Pa's 
 secretary, and Polly Smith {nee Weeden) and her 
 nice little baby that Pa christened on Saturday, and 
 the baby's nurse, and its father, Nat. Smith, who is 
 a dear, and carves the turkey on Sundays. 
 
 Well, you see, I came here on the 20th June with 
 Mary Keating and the Foaming Idiot, and these 
 others came a couple of days later. Owing to Loisy's 
 decease (though her excellent husband, George, does 
 the chores, comes and makes the kitchen fire, cuts the 
 
LAST YEAKS 427 
 
 hay, etc., etc., every morning, and goes away) every- 
 thing was lost as you may imagine, and owing to the 
 death of Pa Browning who (did formerly) all my er- 
 rands, nobody but me knew where anything came 
 from. After a day or two, I took to my bed, — an 
 awful period when there was nothing to eat in the 
 house, when the cook used to ask Mr. Weeden for salt 
 pork and give orders to the mail-man to kill a lamb, 
 etc. They had no carving-knives in those days, 
 because Loisy had hid them last year under my bro- 
 cade gown, locked up in the cedar clothes-chest, and it 
 proved I was sleeping on the saw which was put be- 
 tween my mattresses for the winter, on account of 
 rust. You can easily see that in this situation I had 
 to get well, and I am well ; and things are now going 
 like a breeze, all except the wind-mill. 
 
 I rose up from my bed one day and telegraphed 
 to Mrs. O'Brien, who provides me always with maids, 
 thus : " Must send seven-dollar cook without fail 
 Wednesday usual train meet Miss Nelly Back Bay 
 station," for ISTelly and her ma were coming that day, 
 and they brought along the funniest little old lady 
 you ever saw. The first thing she did here was to 
 sit down in an ivy bush, and get poisoned all over ; so 
 her poor old face is like a volcano to look upon, but 
 she cooks splendidly, even better than Louisa. Of 
 course there was nothing in my pantry and larder for 
 her to cook off, with, by, through or because ; but by 
 dint of sending to Wakefield (five miles) by every 
 moving thing that was going that way, I have now 
 got the house full of tin pans, skewers, salt pork, 
 wooden pails, clothes-lines, pepper, spaghetti, corn- 
 starch, rolling-pins, jam, rye meal, and there is a 
 constant procession arriving of roasting beef, lamb, 
 broilers, turkeys, fish, lard, butter, and eggs. Three 
 cows are tethered in the cellar to be milked at any 
 moment and there's a new box of one dozen salad 
 
428 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 oil, and some sand soap. What makes it the more 
 interesting is that (of course you know), I have no 
 money on account of Homestake burning up, and also 
 that I forget everything now, and go about with little 
 lists in my hand which I put down in the wrong place 
 all the time. There 's one comfort ; that I have some 
 very good clothes, and that owing to losing twenty 
 pounds and more, my figure is a dream of loveliness, 
 my hips are a regular willow-pattern. Also, our 
 native strawberries are just in perfection now, a 
 month late, and we live on them at every meal, and 
 my red roses that grow up in my little lot in the 
 woods are late also, and Mamy Tucker brings me 
 great masses of them every day or two. 
 
 Pa Hale is wonderful this year, very good about 
 signing checks, very well and active, and, dear man, 
 full of compassion for me. He talks all the time to 
 cover the fact that I don't know what they are talk- 
 ing about, and is altogether a dear. He is closely 
 guarded by his wife, his daughter, Nelly, and his 
 faithful Abby, the secretary, who incidentally brings 
 him his early morning coffee when the Idiot has for- 
 gotten to get up. 
 
 I also add, for I see I 've omitted it, that my house- 
 maid, Mary Keating, is perfection. She is what is 
 called " A Superior Person," and what 's more, she 
 is superior. She takes the whole charge of the top- 
 storey, and all the beds and bed-linen, the wash and 
 all that in them is, and besides that, does all that I 
 fail to do when I have temporarily lost my mind. 
 Write me how you like this letter, and believe that 
 I am as ever 
 
 YoTJK JOYOUS Susy. 
 
LAST YEARS 429 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, August 5, 1907. 
 ... I am pretty well now, and only rather deaf, 
 compared with yonr dear mother, whom I look hack 
 upon as a model of cheerfulness and courage; and 
 now you tell me she had my noises, still more so. 
 How little we realise things till they come upon us 
 personally. I helieve I have been a perfect fiend of 
 indifference, even intolerance, of deaf people, and 
 now it's me. Well, I am determined to become the 
 most Delightful Deaf Old Lady that ever existed and 
 I am practising to that end, with such examples in 
 mind as your mother's, but I don't hit it off yet very 
 well. Takes time. Yesterday (there was a horde of 
 people here in the afternoon to tea), I tried the plan 
 of talking incessantly myself, so as to hide the fact 
 I didn't hear anything they said, the result was no- 
 body paid the slightest attention to my (doubtless 
 brilliant) remarks, but turned their heads upon the 
 millions of automobiles that now shoot by us on the 
 newly torn-up-and-put-back road below the house, and 
 said " m-m-m ? " when I paused to take breath. One 
 plan is to keep me reading aloud (out of the Tran- 
 script) but that palls in the long run. No matter, — 
 I can write still. There are several things to be 
 thankful for and one is not to have been in Boston 
 for Home Week. . . . 
 
 Your loving Susie. 
 
 To Miss Charlotte A. Hedge 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 September 7, 1907. 
 DEAR SARLOTS, — I am ouchanted with your letter, 
 not that I am glad that you are also etwas scliwer 
 horig; nor that I want you to be deaf, but I think 
 
430 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 it is excellent for us to be alike, and able, as it were, 
 to swap jack-knives with our impressions. Yours are 
 exactly like mine, only I don't believe you were ever 
 half so naughty as I have always been about deaf 
 folks. Gran'ma Perkins, you know, was a pretty 
 trying specimen with her " m-m-m- ? ? " And then 
 the Bursleys' Aunt (my age) Somebody that used to 
 sit in a corner, unblinded by the flashes of our wit. 
 I always wanted to kill them all. 
 
 You must know that I had been thinking of be- 
 coming an example of the Perfect Old Lady, for, like 
 you, I love growing old, and have been in the habit 
 of saying that each age I came to was the most inter- 
 esting yet. But here comes roaring ears, and knocks 
 me flat, l^obody ever told me about that (perhaps 
 they did, and I paid absolutely no attention. In fact 
 Carry Weld says her dear old mother, — she was a 
 plucky example, — used to have awful noises in her 
 ears all the time). But no matter. I am now deter- 
 mined to acquire the art of being a Perfectly Fasci- 
 nating Old Deaf Person. This resolution of mine 
 furnishes me with ample occupation, — often lacking 
 to the aged, — watching out to see that I don't get 
 cross or suspicious or inquisitive, or those things. I 
 was thinking, you know, of becoming bed-ridden as 
 soon as I got bald, but now there 's no fun lying in 
 bed with roaring ears. 
 
 We are having a rather funny time here now, with 
 Bartlett Gray, who can't understand me and I can't 
 hear him, and Carla and Polly and Nat., who mouth 
 at me in the Jeanie language and bellow at him in 
 Old Style, and forget and whisper to each other the 
 most public remarks. 
 
 But to return to your much enjoyed letter ; speak- 
 ing of teeth, something happened to mine lately, and 
 I had to send them to Piper in Boston. When they 
 came back, by mail, I said, "Oh, that's my teeth." 
 
LAST YEARS 431 
 
 Alviii, the mail carrier, promptly replied, "Mine 
 have never travelled so far." The parcel was regis- 
 tered, and I had to sign for it. I also have many 
 other afflictions (not altogether due to old age, that 
 is, not all of them). I can't remember anything, and 
 especially nouns and names, and think constantly of 
 my dear mother's "Mrs. What's-his-name." Then, 
 besides, you know, I haven't any money, for my 
 chief investment has gone to Potty- wotty (for the 
 moment; they say it will rise again) ; and as every- 
 thing will happen in a bunch, they Avrite me from 
 Jordan and Marsh that my fur cape will cost twenty- 
 one dollars to be re-lined ! ! My fur cape ! — with 
 which I have passed these ten years in the Tropics, 
 giving out now just as I am planning a winter in 
 Chicago. I feel like King Lear out in a thunder- 
 storm. 
 
 I must stop, and begin to write my Series : 
 
 1. How to grow old Gracefully 
 
 2. " " " " Pluckily 
 
 3. " " " " though Deaf 
 
 with illustrations and examples from friends and 
 contemporaries. 
 
 Mr. Weeden, by the way (who sends his cordial 
 regards after hearing your letter), is a wonder. He 
 is my age (seventy-three), has all his wits, teeth, etc., 
 etc., and rides and swims daily. 
 
 YouK TuzosH. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Hotel Thorndike, October 3, 1907. 
 
 . . . Meanwhile I am here a prey to doctors, and, 
 
 in spite of them am really much better. My head is 
 
 not so wobbly, and I actually yesterday walked all 
 
 the way from Mass. Ave. to the Garden, and to this 
 
433 LETTERS OF SUSA^ HALE 
 
 house, through the Park on Commonwealth Ave. It 
 was lovely in the shade of those huge trees {we saw 
 them planted) and fat pigeons were bouncing about, 
 fed by small, pale boys with crutches. The autos 
 rattle me, though, crossing streets and tracks. . . . 
 
 Dr. Leland (354 Commonwealth Ave.) is getting 
 interested in my ears; and he really makes me hear 
 better. He treats my head as a large pincushion, 
 and drives spikes into it, from any old place, and 
 then blows things through, that may come out any- 
 where. I 'm not so very deaf, you know, I 'm per- 
 fectly good for a tete-a-tete conversation, but I don't 
 hear the talk at a table, and for that reason, I regard 
 my career as a luncher and diner-out, at an end. But 
 I 've had a good deal of fun out of it, have n't I ? So 
 why pine ; — like skating, — and the waltz, — glad 
 of it. I^one of my doctors take the slightest interest 
 in my roarings, which make me feel like living in a 
 railway station, — or, I'll tell you — like that night 
 we passed at a junction in California, with trains in- 
 cessantly bumping in and out of our ears, don't you 
 remember ? When I 'm alone, I am perfectly happy 
 (always was) because my noises are like distant 
 waves on a beach, but whenever anyone comes, the 
 clatter begins. However, I 'm learning not to mind, 
 at any rate, not to mention the subject, and I dare say 
 I shall become attached to my bellowings. You see, 
 dear, I never by any accident lose grip of my excel- 
 lent spirits, which don't go back on me. I think I 
 inherit them from my mother, who died just a year 
 younger than I am now, at an advanced age. 
 
 There are compensations. I have lost thirty 
 pounds and my " shape " is a dream of rapture, " un 
 vrai mannequin'^ the modiste in Cannes called it, 
 and P. S. Glover (who is making over my black bro- 
 cade gown I wore last in 1904) is enchanted with 
 me. My eyes are perfectly good, the only reason I 
 
LAST YEARS 433 
 
 don't read more is that these books bore me, they are 
 printing now. Oh ! but my teeth. Dr. Piper has 
 them for the moment, for a little catch broke off that 
 attached them to what I call the bed-post. So I spend 
 a good deal of time Avith Piper, but that will be all 
 right. I can't remember anything, but that is no 
 matter, it's people's names that bother me, and (all 
 summer) what there was for dinner. In fact run- 
 ning the house at Matunuck was rather too much for 
 me, and that it was which brought me to my recent 
 low estate, but I put it through bravely and all the 
 people enjoyed themselves and me. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Mrs. William G. Weld 
 
 Chicago, December 31 {old 1907). 
 
 DEAR CARRY, — You Splendid Gal! Your letters 
 are worth $100,000,000 apiece and put me in the 
 finest spirits, especially this one, which I will re- 
 spond to at once, while the foam is at my mouth. 
 
 The strange part of all this is that I 'm in the finest 
 spirits all the time. It must be that the humouroils 
 side is so on top; this poor old wreck sitting off by 
 herself, in a hole, enjoying herself. . . . 
 
 Yesterday was a fiendish day here. We have the 
 vilest assortment of all different kinds of weather, 
 and I am so scared of falling down and breaking my 
 hip and having to stay in bed the rest of my life 
 because it can't be pieced, like three old ladies (my 
 contemporaries at eighty-five) I've lately heard of, 
 let alone grippe which has arrived here from Boston, 
 that I don't stir outdoors. But people come and 
 play with me in auto-scrabbles, and take me to 
 things. . . . 
 
 Meanwhile I had a lovely Christmas in my comer 
 like Little Jack Horner. People sent me flowers and 
 
434 LETTERS OF SUSAis^ HALE 
 
 cards and plants in pots and I went to two Christmas 
 trees, and bad my o^\ti dinner, a delicious turkey, 
 with a little plum-pudding and holly stuck in it (and 
 a pint of champagne). My "flat" is bedecked with 
 holly. I have more books to read than I can stomach. 
 By the way, I sent you Gelett Burgess purely for the 
 pictures of old San Francisco he describes so well. 
 I kept thinking of you as I was reading it, — so it 
 was nothing to do with Christmas, dear. I don't 
 make presents, but Salty sent me from the office ten 
 crisp dollar-bills which I spread abroad to elevator 
 boys and janitors and the like. I'm reading now, 
 " Sheaves," which begins charmingly, but E. F. Ben- 
 son is apt to peter out towards his end. Mrs. Delano 
 has lent me a rapturous " Biography of Mrs. James 
 H. Perkins" by Edith Cunningham, don't you 
 know ? Have you seen it ? It 's only for private con- 
 sumption, full of old-time talk, and all manner of 
 Forbes and Channings and Cabots and Higginsons 
 and Lymans. Did you read the " Ordeal of Marcus 
 Ordeyne " ? Kind of rattle-pated, but amusing. . . . 
 
 Blue! Chicago the same. The Tribune (most 
 alnusing paper!) is full of ghastly accounts of the 
 " Unemployed " and their sufferings, and ladies as- 
 sure me that the " well-to-do " are giving up extra 
 servants, and pinching themselves. . . . 
 
 As to clothes, we are like mermaids, lovely to the 
 waist, nothing farther except short black skirts. 
 Their functions are chiefly at clubs listening to papers 
 (I don't hear any of 'em, but that's no matter), so 
 that our tops only are of any account. The filth is 
 something fearful. Cleansing houses do a driving, 
 thriving business. You should see my bath-tub, — 
 could plant a garden in it, but this dirt is not off me, 
 only more put on. . . . Lots of love, dear. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susy. 
 
LAST YEARS 435 
 
 To E. A. Chuech 
 
 137 Lincoln Park Boulevaed, Chicago, 
 February 4, 1908. 
 deae me. chuech, — I am shockingly behind in 
 literary correspondence and can't believe it is more 
 than a month since the date of yours (December 19 !). 
 Last year ! And now I am enclosing a small check- 
 let, and acknowledging the arrival of the yellow bag. 
 But I have the joyful news that Homestake Dividend 
 is safe in Wakefield Trust Company, where they may 
 as well be kept for the present. You see I am still 
 in this "fearful" city — for it has deserved that ad- 
 jective of late, in its very blizzardy manners and cus- 
 toms. I have not set foot outdoors since a week ago 
 Thursday, preferring to watch the play of the tempest 
 from my big window. A wonderful scene of sleet 
 and snow and fog and blast : people staggering over 
 slippery gulfs holding on their hats, avoiding their 
 umbrellas, breaking their legs and necks. Midnight 
 fires destroying theatres, — suicides, murders, di- 
 vorces, in the daily paper, which forms the chief part 
 of my breakfast, and mercury 8-zero. I went to a 
 Thomas concert on that last outing in an automobile 
 with Mrs. Delano, who is a charming lady who 
 " holds me in the hollow of her hand " with thought- 
 ful attentions and invitations to pleasant functions. 
 It was cold even when we left here; and when we 
 came out of the Symphony Orchestra Hall (you know 
 it was planned by Theodore Thomas and built for 
 him — but he died almost directly afterwards), the 
 blizzard had begun! The broad street was packed 
 with autos all waiting for their mistresses (scarcely 
 a man to be seen — they prefer the Saturday evening 
 concert). Impossible for these to get to the side- 
 walk. Wheels buzzing and whirring, chauffeurs 
 
436 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
LAST YEAKS 437 
 
 stamping and steaming, snow flying, here and there 
 an effete horse prancing, — dark, dark, at four- 
 thirty o'clock, and electrics gleaming through the fog ! 
 A weird sight! Two chauffeurs clutched me and 
 led me over the slippery side-walk, pushed aside two 
 or three machines, and boosted me into ours, — snort- 
 ing and whirring to get off. My big fur cape was 
 inside and in a minute we were flying through the 
 storm ... I am now waiting for the arrival of 
 spring before another enterprise like this one. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 Susan Hale. 
 
 To Mes. William G. Weld 
 
 Pass Cheistian, Mississippi^ 
 March %Jp, 1908. 
 MY DEARS, — Where are you ? I must write you 
 about this lovely funny little spot, and begin by tell- 
 ing you I 'm better, not a great deal better, but so 
 as to be about, in my lovely veranda in the sun in my 
 wrapper with my hair down. You see we escaped 
 from Chicago on the somethingth of March (viz., 
 Saturday, February 29) and arrived here belated (of 
 course these southern R. R.'s) long after dark Sun- 
 day, and I fell upstairs into a nice bed the next day 
 (twenty-eight hours from Chicago). I thought vol- 
 umes of you on the train, " in the dining-car," or wal- 
 lowing in the trough of my section, but I did n't ■svrite 
 you, did I ? I think not. We crossed all the rivers 
 in the Geography that rise in the Something Moun- 
 tains and fall into their own mouths or the Missis- 
 sippi ; but chiefly by night, for our route, the " Louis- 
 ville and Nashville," is so arranged as to pass through 
 none of the interesting cities of the Middle West. 
 Our object was to get here; — without improving 
 our minds if necessary, but Get Here. 
 
438 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 It's a quiet, sleepy, little place close on the shore 
 of the Gulf of Mexico, which is now placidly plash- 
 ing right across the road. The road is the Shell- 
 Eoad, which, as I conceive, button-holes the bottom 
 of all the Southern States. The shells are oyster 
 shells and the oysters are inside of us ; for our food 
 (sea-food) is mainly oysters, crabs, clams, shrimps, 
 redfish, bluefish, any old or new fish, in fact I con- 
 ceive the Gulf to be one vast chowder-pot. But the 
 chief thing is it's warm, warm as summer but not 
 hot. There is a " yard " in front of me full of bright 
 green grass and great live-oak trees, with white roses 
 in blossom, climbing round their trunks. When we 
 arrived, these trees were all shining with dark-green 
 leaves, their winter garment, but now these are all 
 fallen, raked up and~i3umt up, and the whole town 
 is aglow with light, bright, tender foliage, and blos- 
 soms falling through the air like green caterpillars. 
 Oh, it's enchanting. I have not seen any springs I 
 like so well, and mind it 's March, of all disgusting 
 months. 
 
 It 's a quiet boarding-house kept by three genteel, 
 decayed ladies, in the house of their ancestors, which 
 is full of decayed genteel, mahogany furniture. Our 
 room is ample and comfortable, with long windows 
 opening on the " Gallery " up one flight. The little 
 town is absolutely quiet, only one auto in it, and that 
 a sort of elderly fire-machine. A few cows and horses 
 stroll about the belt of grass between me and the 
 Gulf. There are big hotels, but remote ; and the vil- 
 lage consists of three shops and the Post-oflSce. Ain't 
 it lovely ? \\Tien I say Ave, of course I mean me and 
 Mary Keating, who shares my room, in a comer-bed, 
 because there wasn't another. The inmates are 
 chiefly middlish-aged ladies with button-behinds and 
 pompadours and only three husbands amongst them. 
 I can't hear or remember their names, so I call them 
 
LAST YEAKS 439 
 
 Mrs. Omaha, Mrs. Minneapolis, Mrs. Louisville, for 
 they come from these cities, — they change every few 
 days, but the type remains. They are very kind, 
 and bring me wonderful flowers out of the woods, 
 Cherokee roses, violets, etc., etc. The drives are, or 
 is, monotonous, along the Shell-Road, which is dotted 
 with fine villas, later on, in summer, occupied by the 
 magnates of New Orleans with their automobiles and 
 sich. 
 
 So I rarely stir off the veranda, but eat fish-food, 
 write, sew, and sleep. I 'm not so very deaf, but the 
 racket in the dining-room prevents my joining in 
 "General Conversation," which I now regard as 
 gabble-gabble. There are three nice ladies at my 
 small table who think I am very funny, and so I am, 
 you know. 
 
 But now the bottom is out, and my passage is en- 
 gaged for April 4 in the Creole, steamer for New 
 York from New Orleans, and we spend next week in 
 New Orleans to see it, which I never did, did you? 
 It's only five days to N. Y. and I expect to enjoy 
 that. We shall arrive Manliattan Thursday, April 9, 
 and I mean then to let Mary run home to her kind ; 
 and go myself to Olana to stay with Louis Church 
 in their warm house till May or thereabouts. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susy. 
 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 Always yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 Matunuck, August 5, 1908. 
 DEAEEST CARLA, — I am bursting to tell you about 
 our tempestuous night, but it's almost Alvin time 
 and I must scrabble so I have signed first (of course 
 I can't spell in such a flurry). 
 
440 LETTEES OF SUSAK HALE 
 
 Know : however, that at tM^o-iifteen last night I was 
 wakened by shakings and flashings and bang-bang- 
 ings and whirlings as if all winds were loose. In 
 fact a terrific thunderstorm, worse we all think than 
 those that burned the barns. At first I thought I had 
 stopped being deaf, such horrid noises filled my head, 
 but no, they only triumphed over my usual drums. 
 The room was black with darkness, but every minute 
 or so the panes flashed with white light and zigzags 
 of orange, and bang-bang-whang like cannons, and 
 sheets of water. The house rocked and shook and re- 
 covered itself like a ship in a gale, and this kept up 
 going on. We 're thankful that I^at. was here to 
 man us; he rose in his bed and pervaded the house 
 shutting windows, reefing chairs (to be sure all the 
 chairs are away being seated). He met Mary Keat- 
 ing in her rescue work. Little Mary wept, little Nat. 
 only thought it was time to get up, so he sate up in 
 his crib and said, " Gar-ga." A calm seemed to come, 
 and we all turned over and plunged our noses into 
 the sheet (it was hot you must know), when bang- 
 bang began again, rattly-smash, zigzag, flash-flash, I 
 should think an hour (shouldn't you, Polly? she is 
 sitting right here). Sheets of water fell, chiefly into 
 my cellar as the doors of it were open. Your house 
 is all right. We looked for it in the morning. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Charlotte A. Hedge 
 
 Matunuck, Eiiode Island, 
 August m, 1908. 
 
 deae saelots, — Your splendid letter is here 
 and I will answer it now, on the spot (before I for- 
 get it, to tell the truth), for my mound of neglected 
 letters is so terrible I don't dare to look at it, so 
 
< 
 
 Jl 
 
/ 
 
LAST YEARS 441 
 
 it gets worse and worse. All you say about our 
 infirmities is most cheering; though it irritates 
 me to have young people pretending that they also 
 forget things (names, etc.) as if it were at all the 
 same thing as never remembering anything! But 
 you see, you and I Tcnow. ISTo matter. There 's good 
 stuff in us yet, and we can comfort ourselves by re- 
 flecting that the things we have forgotten are worth 
 more than all they can remember. 
 
 It came yesterday (your letter) in our noon-tide 
 mail; and in the afternoon about five I was sitting 
 by myself on the front piaz. (cooling off after a wild 
 circus with the children and my work-basket, which 
 resulted in their being taken off by the nurse, leaving 
 the work-basket, and incidentally me, a wreck). 
 Well, Mr. Weeden dropped up the hill just then and 
 sate down for a good talk ; and I read him your letter, 
 which pleases him much. He is really quite wonder- 
 ful (just a year younger than me). He 's got all his 
 wits and things about him, and has recently had 
 achieved a performance in his mouth which secures 
 all his own teeth to him for life. He rides on a 
 horse he 's got o' purpose, and he never misses his 
 daily swim, has a fine appetite not in the least de- 
 stroyed by Jeanie's more than ample table. He is 
 perfectly fascinating with his G. children; all chil- 
 dren love him. He knows just the right game about 
 showing them his watch up in his lap. He departed 
 after an hour's chat with an ardent message of re- 
 membrance for you. " The Madam," as she is called 
 in general has had a houseful all summer. She is 
 untiring. . . . Last Saturday I invited the whole 
 colony to Bean Bags, but the Lord or Somebody 
 willed otherwise, for it rained like mad, so nobody 
 could come (literally) and I went to bed at eight 
 o'clock. 
 
 YOUE LOVING TUZOSH. 
 
442 LETTEES OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Caeoline P. Atkinson 
 
 KoxBURY, Massachusetts, October 11, 1908. 
 
 ... I fancy you all off to-day hunting for the 
 mouth of Charles River in Worden's Pond. In my 
 day it was like looking for a needle in a haystack, — 
 but oh! how lovely winding in and out that dark 
 stream and getting stuck sideways in any narrow 
 turning. It will be a fine finale to your season. 
 
 Yesterday Pa and I drove in their New Parks, 
 which are very beautiful, though more conventional 
 than the Kingston Road. They have planted such 
 quantities of things with berries on them one would 
 think it their sole idea ; the result is rapturous just 
 this minute for there are barberries, lots more kinds, 
 can't think of the names of them, — lots of witch- 
 hazel all in blossom now, and the foliage of every- 
 thing just calculated for autumn effects. Our stable 
 sent two fat horses atteles to a splendid open landau, 
 and Pa and I sat up like King and Queen. Every- 
 body knows him, and gazed Avith awe upon him. I 
 tried to hold up my end of the stick by sitting up 
 
 very straight in 
 my pompadour ; 
 but I regret to 
 say it got wobbly, 
 and my hat pre- 
 sented this rakish 
 appearance on my 
 return to my 
 room. No mat- 
 ter. But I am 
 doing my hair 
 pompadour every day, and it looks quite fine only 
 the top is a regular rat's-nest. I hope to improve 
 upon it later. 
 
LAST YEAKS 443 
 
 It is rather nice here, the family are all so kind 
 and devoted, and I am really feeling finely. I think 
 I 'm getting nsed to all my ailments, and don't mind 
 them so much. Fact is people don't notice whether 
 you hear them or not. Jeanie has taught me a lot 
 of good sense about this. . . . 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 39 Highland Street, October 15, 1908. 
 
 DEAR CARLA, — If I don't Write this now you won't 
 get it before Simday, and I want it to be a greeting 
 to Nat. and Polly as well, for I think they mean to 
 be there with you. So here's to the Matunuck 
 Crowd ! and may it never be less. 
 
 The weather is rapturous, and I hope it will hold 
 over for you. I was reading to the family last eve- 
 ning a fascinating article about the " Turn of the 
 Leaf in Autumn." Seems it's iron in the sap that 
 makes the bright colours, when the iron grows rusty, 
 because the sap goes away from it, like any old nail. 
 That's interesting, ain't it? Seems when it's time 
 to dry up, there 's a little gate shut across the leaf 
 where it joins its stem, and when the sap comes up, 
 the door being shut the sap turns round and goes 
 back into the roots, which perhaps, like bulbs and 
 potatoes, get fat upon it. But the poor old leaf, 
 before it falls, gets brilliant tints from the residuum 
 of iron. It's iron, seems, anyway that has to do 
 with the colouring matter of leaves, — and those pale 
 white leaves you see in swormps are because there 
 is no iron in the marsh. I always supposed it was 
 because the sun did n't get in there, as in fact it don't ; 
 but maybe the iron goes with the sun. Excuse my 
 mentioning these things. I don't know as I feel any 
 better about the autumn leaves whether they are full 
 
444 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 of old jimk or not — but one must keep up with 
 Science. . . . 
 
 I am having a nice time here, everybody is good 
 to me. I never saw such a family; always on the 
 rampage after ordinations, M^eddings, fimerals, any 
 old lark, — this means Pa and Nelly, for Ma and I 
 creep to our respective holes as soon as they leave the 
 house, and only poke our noses out for meals. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 AND 
 
 Miss Mary E. Williams 
 
 Washington, D. C, January 12, 1909. 
 
 MY DEAR CARLA (and mamie), — My head is spin- 
 ning with looking over the apparently (undimin- 
 ished) pile of my letters, but I am longing to write 
 to you all this time, instead of sticking to working 
 them down daily. How the time flies. It is three 
 weeks to-day since I came here, that 's just half the 
 time, for I am already pulling wires for February 2, 
 when I think to get me to New Orleans. ... I have 
 been looking over my list of answers to letters, and 
 I can't see that I have ever written you since I came, 
 but that can't be ! I probably dropped you and 
 my dear Mamie thanks for your lovely Christ- 
 mas thoughts. I had a nice collection of things 
 and they filled a window-seat I have here. What a 
 rush upon red this year. It makes my corner very 
 
 gay. 
 
 But, I want you to know about my doings. My 
 hat with the hen on it, in connection with my Kakas 
 fur, and my pompadour to pin things onto, have done 
 a gTeat work. Yesterday I " attended " Mrs. Gar- 
 field's tea, "a smash" as a lady in the dining-room 
 
LAST YEAKS 445 
 
 here called it. I sate by Mrs. Cowles and helped her 
 make the tea, after a chat with Mrs. ISTewberry at the 
 coffee end. Had no idea who these dames were, but 
 read it in the newspaper this morning. . . 
 
 I have been to two or three other teas. I can't hear 
 anything, and don't catch the name of anybody, but 
 that 's no matter. I am much more steady on my legs 
 and can walk safely from here to Kelly's house. In 
 fact the side-walks and paved, flat roads are glorious 
 in W. except after a flurry of snow when no man 
 (however dark) dreams of shovelling. Agues Pres- 
 ton (my Jamaica friend) came here on purpose to 
 play with me and see Washingix)n, from Philadel- 
 phia, spend two nights and the day between, here at 
 Grafton; and Nelly put us through the paces: — 
 Senate (to see Pa), where we also watched Tillman 
 and others below us, — the row just beginning to fer- 
 ment — Cabot Lodge, Mr. Depew, and other Repub- 
 licans. Saw Judge Holmes sitting up on his bench 
 with the other Supremes. Saw Frances Willard in 
 a marble gown standing up on a pedestal next to 
 Romulus and Remus or Somebody. Were presented 
 to V.-Pres. Fairbanks, who is a dear, and saw the 
 Weather Man that makes the weather for everybody 
 (whether or no). . . . 
 
 But what I like best is to stay right here, in my nice 
 room, where I am safe, and my morning prayer in 
 my bath is that ISTelly will not come and rake me out 
 to do things. My bathroom is a dream, it 's all my 
 o"\vn and has a window in it, so made that I can keep 
 it open all the time and see things, while nobody can 
 see me. The water is just cold enough not to be too 
 cold, and I can sing my morning songs umuolested. 
 It's still dark when I get up at seven and by seven- 
 thirty Mary has come and harnessed me into things, 
 and then "Wilson" brings the breakfast on a tray, 
 with fruit, and I even have an orange first. Mary 
 
446 
 
 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 gets the Washington Post and goes to lier breakfast, 
 and thus I can dawdle until Patty with her carpet- 
 scraper and broom pursues me round and round, like 
 a large fly. If I can get nerve, while she is infesting 
 the place, to do my hair for the day, 
 it 's all very well, but perhaps she 
 comes and sweeps under me, and then 
 I have to give it up until later. I 
 go down to luncheon which is really 
 my dinner at one, and by the way, 
 Mrs. George W. Goethals, whose hus- 
 band is at Culebra, sits at my same 
 / //// ) /I — little table. Her name was Effie Rod- 
 / '-mr-LL i man, and her son, Freshman at Har- 
 vard, belongs to the Friday Dancing 
 Class; — but I should think a real Rodman would 
 feel funny to be named Goethals, and how the 
 dickens are they pronounced ? She is very pleasant, 
 quite handsome, and extremely dressed, and on the 
 Go(ethals) incessantly. . . . 
 
 YouE LOVING Susan. 
 
 To Miss Chaelotte A. Hedge 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, June 8, 1909. 
 Nice Sarlots to write her Tuzosh ; and yes I did 
 get yours at New Orleans, and was and am a pig not 
 to have answered it; so I will now write at once, 
 which is the only way to catch me ; but it 's discourag- 
 ing to correspondents to get the boot on their leg 
 again so soon. All you say (as always, my dear), is 
 absorbingly interesting. I wish I could have been 
 at the Williams' occasion, if it had been a week or so 
 earlier I could have gone to it in my new Chopak 
 suit, but just as well to hear about it ; and about the 
 christening. There is certainly a great deal of 
 beauty in that family, and I love them all, beginning 
 
LAST YEARS 447 
 
 with Moses (pere). I heard of this tea through 
 Weedens, who flew there in their buzz-buzz from 
 Providence, starting after luncheon and getting back 
 to dinner at the uzle time. Sorry also by absence 
 my losing the sight of your mother's best black-silk 
 gown. 
 
 I am now, by the way, sitting in a mauve-plush 
 wrapper which I used to wear in the first scene of the 
 "Elixir of Youth," as the Old Grandmother (the 
 " front " I wore, now answers as pompadour beneath 
 these same locks, now, grey, of my own front hair). 
 Those gowns are again stylish, with tight sleeves and 
 slinking hips, and my figger is precisely the same. 
 And that reminds me of the enlarged daguerreotype 
 you speak of. Is it not amusing? I sent one to 
 Carry, as I should have done to Anne, if we had her 
 here still; but in general, I think it's bad form to 
 circulate one's own image. 
 
 As for things, how they do accumulate, how often 
 I wish to exclaim, " Oh don't give me that ! " Mrs. 
 Evelyn Perkins, for instance (the one I travelled 
 with), is constantly giving me things. Sometimes, 
 to tell the truth, I like them, as a Japanese kimono or 
 something which is a dream of grey crepe with great 
 blobs of pink on it. But don't for Heaven's sake 
 have people give me books ! By the way, I have an 
 enchanting one just now, " The Magic Casement," all 
 possible fairy poetry from Queen Mab down, selected 
 by jSToyes, himself no mean poet. Otherwise I am 
 reading for the millionth time the " Correspond- 
 ence of Samuel Richardson," edited by Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld. Delicious. Those people of the eighteenth 
 century (Queen Anne's) knew much better what they 
 were about than we do. They had time for things, 
 wrote drooling long letters, had some knowledge of 
 each other's characters, and what books they had, 
 they read. They had a thing called " Leisure " which 
 
448 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 we don't possess, although, to be sure, they, even then, 
 regarded themselves as being in a hurry, and spent 
 much time and paper in explaining why they did n't 
 write oftener; the facts being they had nothing to 
 communicate, and as a general thing, wrote much too 
 frequently for comfort either to themselves or their 
 correspondents. 
 
 I've been here now since May 15, and, — barring 
 the fiendish cold, rain, wind, fog, sleet, damp, — 
 rapturously employed playing with my own things, 
 which I have not seen all ^vinter. I love my old 
 elbow-chair up in my own room, and the long cheval- 
 glass where I can for once see the whole of myself; 
 and my breakfast in the porch, where " she ain't 
 crazy but she eats outdoors." Mary Keating does 
 the whole thing; makes the kitchen fire, makes the 
 coffee, makes the toast, broils the chop, sets the table, 
 everything except to digest my food, and, if she is 
 imwilling, I don't even do that. But this is at 
 an end, for to-morrow my other maid comes (new), 
 and moreover the other inhabitants arrive, Carla, 
 Matlacks, Polly and her tribe in their own house, 
 which is done, not with me, Weedens soon, then 
 Rose, and outlying provinces become peopled, like 
 Roger Perkins, Sibley Smith, Larry and others. 
 Of course I want to have them come, for we are 
 a very congenial crowd, and everj^body is good to 
 Susan. 
 
 There ain't no ice, you know, because the pond, it 
 didn't freeze, or if it did, casually, Elisha wasn't 
 round and didn't cut any. Such a thing has not 
 happened ever since 1872 when the life here began. 
 The ice-house is just newly shingled, so it's nice and 
 dry inside, and we are using the old shingles for 
 kindlings. 
 
 The land is a dream of early summer, Kalmia 
 (laurel) full of fat buds ; lilacs, yellow lilies, iris on 
 
LAST YEARS 449 
 
 the wane, hawthorn, honeysuckle, " everything that 
 pretty bin " in profusion. All my summer wood has 
 just been diunped on my strawberry bed, full of blos- 
 soms, but that's no matter. 
 
 YouE TUZOSH. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 No letters since Friday; nervous as a witch. 
 Matunuck, 7:30 a.m., June 9, 1909. 
 
 BUT NELLY, — I Want to tell you something fas- 
 cinating. In the first place I've got a delightful 
 book ; have you read about it ? It is all possible Fairy 
 Poetry (Keats, etc.) selected and put together by 
 JSloyes called " The Magic Casement," and contains 
 all manner of familiar things from "Hark, hark! 
 the lark" down. 
 
 Well, I was sitting reading it in the west-long- 
 window with the wistaria outside all smelling good, 
 — this was yesterday afternoon, — and enwrapped 
 mth Tom Hood's " Plea of the Midsummer Fairies," 
 do you remember about it ? It says 
 
 " there were many birds of many dyes 
 . . . and all were tame 
 And peckled at my hand where'er I came." 
 
 Well, just as I was all mixed up with this, a great 
 fool robin, just hatched, very fuzzy, came bounce! 
 and jaimned himself into the wistaria vine, and sat 
 staring behind a bunch of it at me, quite imprisoned, 
 he could neither get in nor out. I had seen him be- 
 fore. Mary thinks he is just hatched out of a small 
 oak tree on the hill. A person I conceive to be his 
 father, stalked up and down the drive, buttoned up 
 in his red waist-coat, and chirped in an indifferent 
 maimer, as if his wife had told him to go out and 
 
450 LETTEKS OF SUSAK HALE 
 
 look for offspring, who was lost. But offspring 
 could see tlie parent, and Pa Robins went away. So 
 we sate quite still, till I began to think it was time 
 for him to go home, and he seemed a bit uneasy, 
 so I softly put my hand into his ambush. He gave 
 a gTeat squawk and sprang away, and flew with the 
 ease of a Wright's Machine back towards his hill. 
 Was n't it excellent ? I felt as if Queen Mab and 
 Puck would be there directly. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Charlotte A. Hedge 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 Septemher 5, 1909. 
 
 dear sarlots, — Isn't this a dreadful business 
 about the North Pole being found, all the mystery, 
 all the charm, gone out of the Geography ? It 's now 
 just like any other old place, say Watchaalascatch- 
 kan, Iowa. And such a commonplace man discover- 
 ing it, named Cook. He just made a hole in the 
 ground and came away. Why didn't he see blue 
 devils, salamanders, and shooting flames, and the 
 shades of Hudson and John Franklin and ISTorgens- 
 cold and Swerdros hawking round and wringing their 
 hands saying, " He done it " ? 
 
 I 'm forcing myself now to turn my thoughts to 
 the Antarctic Pole — there remains mystery, ro- 
 mance, inaccessibility ; and I can't get over my child- 
 ish impression that it 's warm there. I am hoping 
 you will sympathise with me in this new aggression 
 of the twentieth century. How flat the world seems ! 
 He, Cook, seems to have taken absolutely no comfort 
 in the fact there was no longitude. Write your 
 sympathy. 
 
 I noticed, last night, no perturbation in the Pole 
 
LAST YEARS 451 
 
 Star. I was fearing it miglit refuse to go round a 
 Cooked Pole. 
 
 Yours, 
 Susy. 
 
 To Miss Charlotte A. Hedge 
 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, 
 September 15, 1909. 
 
 DEAR SARLOTS, — To tell the truth, I never could 
 endure the works of Philpots, and have never opened 
 one of them. I am quite sure it is on account of his 
 name ; but I should hate to have any book of his in 
 the house. You ^^^ll, I 'm sure, excuse and even enjoy 
 this vigorous language. I once liked Hardy's things, 
 but I don't think I could now, and there is also a 
 man named Howlitts or something, I can't bear. 
 
 Young's '' Night Thoughts " is good enough for me, 
 especially wheie he says: 
 
 " Oh ! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought 
 Lost to the noble sallies of the soul 
 Wlio think it Solitude to be alone." 
 
 But I have also got a fat book of " Appreciations " 
 I believe they are called, of George Meredith, and 
 that is quite pleasing. And I 've got Huneker's 
 " Egoists," which tolls all about a quantity of people, 
 cranks, that it wouldn't be proper for us to read 
 themselves. 
 
 But to return to the Pole. This mush is dreadful 
 they have got us into. Cook and Peary reported daily, 
 column by column in the same daily paper, Mrs. 
 Cook and Mrs. Peary bridling and waggling their 
 heads. Last night when I looked out I seemed to 
 see Two Pole stars, — and I dare say they are get- 
 ting forked. ( To be sure, I also saw two lighthouses 
 on Block Island. It's some form of superannuated 
 yision, I believe.) But no matter. 
 
452 LETTEES OF SUSA¥ HALE 
 
 'Nellj invites ine to stay with her at 29 Gorham 
 Avenue, Brookline, and I may come to it later, but it 
 is still enchanting here. Yesterday a dream of a 
 day. Carla Atk. is my neighbour, you know, and 
 "Polly" Weeden, now Smith, has two delightful 
 children. We mean to hold on through this month 
 at least. Mrs. Jeanie Weeden has a "motor" and 
 lately hawked me in it up the Island of Ne^vport and 
 back in the twinkling of an eye. 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 TuzosH. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 Matunuck, Rhode Island, October 19, 1909. 
 
 OH ! MY DEARS ! 
 
 WHOEVER READS THESE LII^ES 
 
 as it says in the "Mysteries of Udolpho," or some 
 one of my old novels (" Cherubina" in fact) — may 
 know that I am all packed, all swept and garnished, 
 although it is yet twenty-four hours 
 
 Before 
 
 The Fatal Knell 
 
 (Knock wood.) 
 
 It 's all very nicely arranged. Carla and I are going 
 with Willard to Kingston and from there together 
 to N'ew York and spend the night at Manhattan, and 
 thence next by morning train to Hudson, where you 
 know I mean to stay till to'rds the middle of N"ovem- 
 ber, when I return to ISTew York, and Mary K. joins 
 me, to sail in IST. Gr. Lloyd, S. S. Prinzess Irene, 
 November 20. Ain't it splendid ? Rich, affluent, 
 not lacking in the remains of personal charms, ac- 
 companied by an accomplished though educated maid, 
 I wend my way to further conquests upon the Medi- 
 terranean shores. You see, that having sent all my 
 
LAST YEARS 453 
 
 books I haven't read to the Robby Library, I am 
 reduced to the perusal of Miss Bumey's '' Cecilia/^ 
 and this is the way it proceeds; an excellent work 
 and I am surprised to see how modern it is; the 
 prattle of Miss Larolles might be easily transferred 
 to any Boston reception, not to mention Washington. 
 I hate to go away, for it is still lovely here. . . . 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
 To Mes. N. W. Smith 
 
 Olana, November IJf-, 1909. 
 
 DEAR POLLY, — ... It 's woudcrful the things 
 that go on in Boston. I had no idea there was a 
 new Art Museum till I heard that Jake was exhibit- 
 ing himself in the Old One. By the way, did you see 
 Phil, anywhere round? Every body (of my age) 
 writes me of the new Opera House, for we all recall 
 the joyous days when the new one was the poor old 
 Boston Theatre ; and there we used to sit night after 
 night and see Grisi and Mario and Rachel and Jenny 
 Lind, and hear those dear old-fashioned operas like 
 " Lucrezia Borgia " and " Trovatore " and the "Bohe- 
 mian Girl," and " N^orma," and I wore my hair just 
 like the old photograph we have now (enlarged) and 
 no hat, and nodded to everybody in the house as we 
 scuttled down to our own seats before the footlights. 
 My! those were stirring times, and our men came 
 round and talked to us, and we had librettos with 
 English words and long play-bills with the names 
 of the performers. I felt exactly as if I owned the 
 whole house, and that it was the finest in the world. 
 Well, that's just about sixty years ago. But no 
 matter; ain't I going to sail on the 20th to foreign 
 parts! . . . 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
454 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 To Miss Caroline P. Atkinson 
 
 Pkinzess Irene^ November 27 , 1909. 
 CARLA DEAR, — Es ist seliv duukel and only six- 
 thirty by my clocks, but the 5a(i-stewardess hiked 
 me out from my delicious salt bath and I 'm back and 
 had my coffee, and will write you till Mary comes and 
 dresses me. We had a wonderful day with Azores, 
 yesterday, passing slowly along under that one that 
 has not got Pico on it. I never saw it so beautiful, 
 in fact I have always regarded the Azores as tedious, 
 but now ! it lasted from one, just after early luncheon 
 till two-thirty, all the time very beautiful, all swathed 
 with rainbows of brightest hues like those fires on 
 the stage tliat ladies dance in within their clothes. 
 The high cliffs dotted, don't you know ? With little 
 villages such as come in a box, and immense great 
 waterfalls with real water in them, — "Slow drop- 
 ping veils of thinnest lawn did go and great chasms 
 casting shadows." (Mary K. was wild. It's the 
 first " scenery " she ever saw except the R. R. Station 
 at Concord, Mass.) We all stood pressed up against 
 the rail, rather wobbly, with great lapus-lazuli waves 
 plashing over the shore. Then I was so tired I went 
 to bed at once, and had no dinner, and slept till just 
 now, perfectly refreshed when I got my bath. . . . 
 
 Your Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Alger, le 5th Decembre, 1909. 
 OH ! NELLY ! — It 's Sunday, and my birthday, and 
 by these signs I should be writing to you, if joy alone 
 didn't cause me to. Open window, sun shining, 
 toM^els drying in my balcony, little rolls of butter, 
 coffee (vile, of course) and honey. (I will tell you 
 this each time I write.) 
 
LAST YEAKS 455 
 
 Well, you see I must look now at everything in the 
 spirit of seventy-six. Would it not be funny if I 
 should live another seventy-five years, and become 
 one hundred and fifty; they are inventing things to 
 prolong life. On the other hand M. Somebody I 
 have always supposed to put faith in says the tail 
 of Halley's comet may sprinkle us next May in a 
 gas which will make us all die rapturously. Very 
 well. . . . 
 
 Your Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Hotel de la Plage, Cannes, 
 
 December '25, 1909. 
 
 Oh! Nelly, this is really Christmas, and I will 
 celebrate by writing this to you instead of to-morrow. 
 I am entirely cleaned out of nice little gold-pieces, 
 by the reason of tips, and had to scrape together my 
 last five francs for Mary's church. I am saving Papa 
 Leopold II on a fat five-franc piece, and washed him 
 yesterday with ammonia and my nail-brush to keep 
 for a luck penny. We have also got a twenty- 
 franc note Algerienne which don't pass here. But 
 there is lots of money in the Credit Lyonnais, and 
 they placed it all at my disposal, they were so pleased 
 to see me. 
 
 But we've been having a terrible time with the 
 
 Grand Duke Michael Somethingvitch. You know 
 he is dead; and three war-ships came over from 
 Bizerta and stood out here with little lights on them 
 
456 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 in the night, and one took him away in his coffin 
 through the Straits of Dardanelles (by permission 
 of Turks) to be buried in Peter and Paul's church 
 at St. Petersburg, and his nephew is now Grand 
 Duke Michael, and I saw him on a horse at the head 
 of the convoi, and behind him tramped millions of 
 matelots, in berets and dark-blue shirts, whom I con- 
 ceive to be from the Russian ships, though more sol- 
 diers and sailors came from Nice. And there was 
 a mound of flowers drawn by horses, — couronnes 
 with broad ribbons with the names of tlie Queens 
 who had sent them; and then priests in white and 
 gold bearing a great cross and things, and everybody 
 took off their hats ; and then the old gentleman him- 
 self in a gilt hearse Avith four horses, and then the 
 municipality of Cannes, with their hats off and quite 
 bald, and then a quantity of private carriages with 
 the people not in them. There were military bands, 
 and one of them was playing Chopin's "Funeral 
 March," which is the most solemn thing I know. I 
 heard it in Constantine in a march Funebre of sol- 
 diers, twenty years ago or more. It was all very 
 impressive, and I was in a little carriage lined up 
 between autos, by the side of the road in a little 
 cross-street from Rue d'Antibes. When I got back 
 here and looked for the war-ship, it was gone. How 
 they got him into it I can't imagine, can you ? Mean- 
 time Mary Keating had put for la gave, which was 
 wise of her, for that was where everything culmi- 
 nated, and she saw the couronnes and the names on 
 the ribbons ; — and saw lots of the procession which 
 went back to Nice by train. 
 
 You see Old Grand Duke has been a fetish here 
 ever since I first came, and Louis and I used to see 
 him in a little cart drawn by two ponies (I think), 
 and his valet behind. He was about one hundred 
 and sixty then, more now; and mucli beloved here, 
 
LAST YEARS 
 
 457 
 
 though I believe his family didn't care much for 
 him. But they came out strong ^\"ith the ohseques 
 certainly. . . . 
 
 Loving Susan. 
 
 To E. A. Chfrch 
 
 Hotel de la Plage, Cannes, Feance, 
 January 26, 1910. 
 
 DEAE MR. CHURCH, — Wliile I was at my bank 
 yesterday, waiting for my money, this delightful old 
 lady came bustling in, pushed me away from the 
 
 window, and began to do business. They were all 
 delighted to see her and smiled and shook hands, and 
 she held out a great bunch of bank-notes she had: 
 Cent francs, 100 cent francs, gold, heaven knows how 
 
458 LETTEKS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 much. She didn't come to draw money, not a bit 
 of it; but to deposit. I guess somebody had been 
 paying rent up to January 1, don't you ? You don't 
 suppose she came in a carriage do you ? She walked, 
 had this umbrella, though no signs of rain were 
 visible. She asked after all their children, shook 
 hands all round and bustled out again. " That 's a 
 jolly old lady," said I. "Yes, she is," they said, 
 and rubbed their hands. That's the way I look 
 when I come to see you and deposit my rents, 
 ain't it ? 
 
 Your letter is sous-main of the 9th January. It 
 sounds to me very well and prosperous, and for a man 
 of business you manage to get a wonderful lot out of 
 life, opera, sailors' home, and all that reading you 
 manage to put in. I 'm interested in what you say 
 about Perabo. He was a new-fledged lion when I 
 knew him (more by token of which he must be get- 
 ting old by this time). I remember I was doing 
 something funny at some charitable entertainment, 
 when he was pianist. He won't remember any- 
 thing about me. I remember (or think I do) that 
 the entertainment was for the Homeopathic Hos- 
 pital and that afterwards w^hen I wanted to send 
 somebody there I couldn't, because I was a Uni- 
 tarian. But perhaps I 've got it mixed up. Peace 
 to its ashes. I can't read Mr. De Morgan's works. 
 I got swamped in one of them and barely escaped 
 with my life. I have in my possession here two 
 copies of " Bella Donna," a vile book in my opinion. 
 I couldn't get through with it, and had somebody 
 tell me the ghastly wind up of it. People give it to 
 me because I have been twice in Egypt, and am toler- 
 ably familiar with the Nile, all the more reason for 
 avoiding a book that stains all the picturesque effect 
 of the scenery with evil imaginations. I 'm sorry, 
 for I think Mr. Hichens is very capable. But I'm 
 
LAST YEARS 459 
 
 reading French, all the time, and just now have hit 
 upon a charming novel — so far — most of them end 
 in disaster. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 Susan Hale. 
 
 To E. A. Church 
 
 Hotel de la Plage, Cannes, France, 
 February 13, 1910. 
 
 dear MR. CHURCH, 
 
 Business ! Business ! 
 Wonderful sight! 
 Money coming in instead of going out! 
 Little and Bro"wn doing business ! 
 
 113 copies sold of " Last of the Peterkins " ! 
 I am thinking of buying an automobile and 
 shipping it home. 
 
 Jesting aside, I 'm surprised, for I thought these 
 things would go straight to you ; but this was ad- 
 dressed to Matunuck ; so perhaps you have not re- 
 ceived the account of Houghton and Mifflin due about 
 now. 1^0 matter ; this will support me a good while, 
 anyhow it puts me up to writing you a little letter. 
 It is enchanting here this sunny morning I am writ- 
 ing in my open Avindow with the sun shining in on 
 me, and the lovely, lovely Mediterranean outside all 
 veiled in soft light ; the sea, the hills, the sky all blue 
 and vague, and dreamy little sails dawdling about. 
 Mary K. has gone to church and everybody else ex- 
 cept me is in church, and there is not a sound below 
 on the boulevards; unless a chance dog, or a green 
 parasol goes by on the side-walk. Tell Mrs. Church 
 that existence is impossible here without a green 
 parasol. The shops are full of them, and everybody 
 is wearing them (except me) ; I won't. I love to be 
 
460 LETTERS OF SJJSAN HALE 
 
 in all the sun there is ; but here the people are afraid 
 of it, and the men walk about with umbrellas. To be 
 sure I might buy one with my $14.12 just received, 
 but likely that will go for books from London. It 's 
 so easy to get them here, no duty, and only one day. 
 I subscribe to the London Daily Telegraph, and I am 
 trying to understand their election and their 'New 
 Parliaments. I don't want the Lords to be abolished, 
 do you ? It 's so splendid to have them sitting up in 
 their crowns and ermine. I wouldn't do away with 
 them for anything. 
 
 But let me tell you the fields are all green, and 
 great rivers babbling through them, and almond trees 
 in blossom, and little dandelions like ours, and little 
 poppies, and deep pink anemones, and masses of yel- 
 low mimosa on great trees. The hotel is full of tour- 
 ists do^vn from the j^orth ; it 's the thing for the Eng- 
 lish to come here in Lent. In fact Mr. Asquith and 
 Mr. Lloyd George were in town last week, recuperat- 
 ing. I did n't see them but I hope they saw me driv- 
 ing in my little carriage piled up with mimosa. 
 Here's Mary K. to dress me, so good-bye for the 
 moment. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 Susan Hale. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Hotel de la Plage, Cannes, Fkance, 
 jeudij February '21),, 1910. 
 DEAE nelly, — It 's raining ! ! of all things, and the 
 Bataille de Fleurs will have to be put off again, and 
 their nice flags and awnings are all getting wet. 
 " Pity not had him yesterday," as small garcon re- 
 marked when he brought my plateau just now. 
 
 But I can't trouble much about us on account of 
 the poor old Parliament. Do you keep reading 
 
LAST YEARS 461 
 
 about them ? Ain't it terrible ? They can't pass their 
 budget, and they can't have any money to pay each 
 other with, until they've fired all the nice Lords, 
 to please Mr. Redmond; and nice Mr. Balfour has 
 a cold, so he hates to have to speak and try and com- 
 fort them. I have pictures of all of them, cut out 
 and pinned in a book I 've got. It 's in vain to use 
 Fullum's aphorism and say, " 'Tain't no consequence, 
 they was Irish," because the trouble is they be 
 Irish. 
 
 Well, I shall get my London Telegraph again this 
 afternoon and then we '11 see. . . . 
 
 YouE Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Hotel de la Plage, Cannes, France, 
 February 28 (last day of winter), 1910, 
 Why ! Nelly ! Poor old Willy ^ is gone at last. I 
 guess he is glad. I read it yesterday in my Sun, and 
 can think of nothing else since. ISTo doubt you are 
 writing me about it ; but our mails are all a tort et a 
 travers. The Sun has a pretty good article; and I 
 send their additional comment. ]^o doubt some of 
 his schoolboys have become Sun-reporters or so. But 
 he was six years younger than me. They say less. 
 He had a splendid faith, and no doubt felt he was 
 going straight to his father, I mean Uncle Edward. 
 You see (I've often told you) he was six when they 
 came back from living in England, and I was twelve. 
 His home was pretty forlorn, and my mother took 
 him right in; he adored her. He came often to 
 6 Hamilton Place and I was made to go to play with 
 him in Summer Street (which I hated) — but we 
 used to play bear, with me for the bear living under 
 the great yellow-marble centre-table with gold legs. 
 * William Everett, 
 
462 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 I've often told you how he used to walk with me 
 round the Common in petticoats with a beaver hat 
 and cane, shouting, ^' Anna virumque cano^ All 
 last night I was thinking of these things and longing 
 to jump up and tell you about it. . . . 
 
 Your Susan. 
 
 To Miss Mary B. Dinsmoor 
 
 Cannes, France, March 12, 1910. 
 
 Oh ! my dear Mary, " Quelle joia ! " as Lucretia 
 used to say, don't you remember? We didn't, but 
 that was a part of our eccentricities. Well, as I was 
 saying quelle joia to get a fat bunch of half-sheets 
 yesterday about dark, unusual hour, so I spent the 
 time till dinner reading and re-reading them, after 
 Mary had got me dressed in my striped-grass gown, 
 whereas I had done my hair earlier in the 
 business. . . . 
 
 But you are so dear to write me about Willy 
 Everett, for I am still feeling very sad and sort of 
 grieved about it (different from some deaths). There 
 is so much that was forlorn about it, and at any rate 
 so much in him unappreciated. I 'm glad you kept 
 up your dealings with him. I tossed all night after 
 I got the news (read it in my N. Y. Sun, February 
 lY), thinking of the days when he was a little boy, 
 and we played bear in the great, gloomy drawing- 
 room of his family in Summer Street. I was the 
 bear, I think, and lived on all fours under the great 
 malachite or alabaster centre-table with gold legs, 
 and I used to come out and growl, I believe, for him 
 to run away. He w^as six and I was twelve. You 
 know (probably don't) that (last spring, before Papa 
 Edward died) I was staying with them in 39 High- 
 land Street and by great strategy a dinner was ar- 
 ranged by Willy for us, just us two, to come to 
 
LAST YEARS 463 
 
 Quincy, and we drove over in state; the dinner was 
 parfait, the whole a perfect success. Edward was 
 scared to death and on his best behaviour, Willy also 
 had his Sunday muzzle on, and they were so polite 
 to each other, it was painful. You know Willy loved 
 Edward, but was always enraged with him, and Pa, 
 aware of this, was sure to put his foot in it. The 
 consequence was that every subject either man was 
 interested in was carefully avoided, and even the 
 weather, the crops, the possibility that Mars is in- 
 habited were but lightly touched. I did n't open my 
 mouth, but sate and stroked the cat. But it was a 
 great success, and left a good taste in all our mouths, 
 and gives me the image of his perfect, carnal comfort 
 in his ynenage, these latter days. He was surrounded 
 by three females, all his abject slaves ! a cook, a sort 
 of mannsome housekeeper, who waited at table, and 
 his typewriter amanuensis, who was subserviently 
 tyrannical, as she should be. . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susie. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Cannes, Paques, March 27, 1910. 
 Oh, Nelly, do you remember when we sate all in 
 the dark in the Toledo Cathedral, with shadowy 
 crowds veiled and kneeling, still, still, till midnight, 
 when a burst of light came and somebody said " Christ 
 is Risen," and every body jumped up and kissed each 
 other? And then I am thinking of the Holy Week 
 in Jerusalem, when the procession came down from 
 the Mount of Olives with palms, that Sunday; and 
 Easter we went down to what they call the Tomb, 
 under church of Sepulchre. And then a Good Friday, 
 in Mexico, little small place where Aztecs did a little 
 play of the " Betrayal of Judas " and one performed 
 Christ, to a vast crowd of Indies out in a great field. 
 
46i LETTERS OF SUSAX HALE 
 
 And more things I have forgotten and partly in- 
 vented which are described in my Archives, and came 
 round in bed last night when I woke up at 2 a. m. 
 
 But now I have got an Easter egg which came up 
 with my breakfast, all gaily coloured with a picture 
 of a little sort of faun carrying a basket of Easter 
 eggs, with hoofs to him. And close by me is a fat 
 bunch of these violets picked for me by a lady, out 
 of her own garden. I saw her do it, in exchange for 
 a franc. It seems a rain that we had was what they 
 needed, for the whole country is covered with them, 
 wild; but these of mine are cultivees, up behind the 
 '' Californie." . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Cannes, Monday, April I^., 1910. 
 Sailing two weeks from to-day! 
 
 Might write to Manhattan, Neiv York. 
 
 Oh, Nelly, I must forsake all and tell you these 
 things. No matter if I don't write the right letters 
 to everybody (or anybody) ; we shall get there all 
 the same. 
 
 We had aAaation yesterday, and I am converted! ! 
 It was lovely. Plage (me up-stairs and Mary K.). 
 These are swarms of people looking on. It soared 
 so beautifully and looked exactly like a bird, and not 
 a big bird either ; any old bird, — and took ten min- 
 utes, I believe, to go way across our horizon and 
 back again. So we may come home in one ; but my 
 transportation is all engaged (and paid) for Early 
 Victorian methods. . . . 
 
 But now, Nelly, to change the subject, I want you 
 to read not only " Merope " by Matthew Arnold, but 
 his own preface to it in his latest Complete Edition 
 Poems which I got from London lately. I 'm send- 
 
LAST YEARS 
 
 465 
 
 
 
466 LETTERS OF SUSAN" HALE 
 
 ing it to Edward ; and do joii make him let you have 
 it. It is all in the line of that Greek man we were 
 reading, you know, in Roxbury, last time I was 
 there. . . . 
 
 And Homestake is paying again ! ! One hundred 
 and four dollars on March 25. So I feel rather easy 
 about not being cast into prison on my return, by 
 Kidder and Peabody. . . . Lots of love from 
 
 Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Cannes, Hotel de la Plage, encore 
 vendredi, April 8, 1910. 
 
 DEAR nelly, — ... My mail just walked in with 
 Minna Goddard's letter to say they will arrive here 
 to-morrow in their motor with Corinne, the maid, 
 and their chauffeur, to spend one night with me. . . . 
 
 I may add here that this motor business has de- 
 stroyed all the punctual habits. Early Victorian, in- 
 troduced by steam-railways, and so incidentally, by 
 my own father. '' ISTo hanging round : but start now 
 or you'll lose your train." On the contrary, these 
 unfortunate chauffeurs sit waiting for hours at the 
 door and very likely in a pouring rain, until their 
 marms come strolling out with a dozen more hat- 
 boxes, — gigantic in size (also an innovation); I 
 wish you could see the things they stuffed into one 
 yesterday, — a baby, a nurse, a small dog, a bassi- 
 nette on top full of dirty clothes; a man, his two 
 wives, their hats (in boxes), the maid, the chauffeur, 
 the courier, the man's own cane, everybody's um- 
 brella, a green parasol, a purple ditto; besides their 
 hand-i)aggage. The trunks had gone before (by rail, 
 I presume). . . . 
 
 Yours, 
 Susan. 
 
LAST YEAES 467 
 
 To Miss Caeolini: P, Atkinson 
 
 AND 
 
 Miss Maky E. Williams 
 
 Cannes, Fkance, April H, 1910. 
 
 ISTow, my dears, the bottom is out, and I am tearing 
 up letters and sich, and exploring the depths of my 
 trunk for places unknown to Mr. Loeb. We are 
 leaving here next Monday as ever 
 was, and doing everything by 
 Fridays; arrive from Marseilles 
 Friday, in N'aples on the 20th and 
 from JSJ'aples to New York on the 
 29th. Makes me nervous, it's so 
 soon. 
 
 It 's gone like a flash ! though a lovely tranquil 
 winter. I suppose there never was an old lady that 
 did so few things as I have done, but no matter for 
 that. I took a young gentleman to drive the other 
 day. He is a dear. I should like to annex him ; and 
 he would like to be my kind of gentleman courier, so 
 I wish I could have him instead of Mary. . . . He is 
 English, named Robinson, and is the organist here 
 in Cannes at St. George's Church (where the Duke of 
 Albany is buried), and he took me in there; it's a 
 little, very perfect (modern) Gothic chapel, with 
 stained-glass windows, and holds the lovely marble 
 tomb of the Duke, peacefully reposing, with crossed 
 (very beautiful) hands. Then Robinson opened his 
 organ and played (no doubt) lovely fugues and 
 things. I had to pretend I heard them, but of course 
 it was to my ears only skurling. His father is a 
 rector in Oxford, and two brothers are curates. Ain't 
 it just like an English novel ? His voice is a lovely 
 baritone ; he is adored by the English colony. 
 
 I 've got an old gentleman I call " the Cat-faced 
 
468 LETTERS OF SUSAN HALE 
 
 man," for joii see I can't hear any of their names. 
 He says my French is Ijeautif ul ; and there 's a 
 widower Mary and I call " the beautiful man," with 
 two children and an awfully cross mother. Her maid 
 has just gone away because she can't stand it. . . . 
 
 Your joyous Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 "N. G. Lloyd Prinz iDeinrich. 7 :30 a. m. 
 Thursday, April 21, 1910. Cahin 126. 
 
 Oh my! oh, Kelly! oh reizend schon, only Mary 
 has got the ink. But never mind, perhaps you can 
 read this and perhaps I'll mark it over (guess not). 
 
 You see I 'm once more on the rapturous wave ; 
 and how I do love it! I feel just as if I was seven- 
 teen and had nothing the matter with me, except that 
 I know more languages. I 've just come out of a 
 luscious cold salt Bad in a great tub, and stewardess 
 has brought lovely IST. G. Lloyd coffee and rolls. I 
 bet there 's no one else up yet on the ship. 
 
 But you must know we 've had a funny time ; for 
 the wind was so bellowing (a hise or something) that 
 ship couldn't start, so we went to bed tied up to a 
 great warehouse and spent the night at Marseilles in 
 perfect motionlessness. But at da^^^l just now I 
 heard and felt the chug-chug and saw rocks out of 
 the port-hole, presumably not Monte Christo's island. 
 Mary's cabin is away at the end of the ship ; she is 
 very jolly, we feel like larks to be in our old haunts, 
 and Princess will be still more so next week. . . . 
 
 YouE Susan. 
 
LAST YEARS 469 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Dampfer "Peinz Heinrich," 
 24 hours later, Friday, April 2^, 11 a. m. 
 
 DEAB NELLY, — And here we are still wobbling in 
 Mediterranean w^aters. All night long, the dreary 
 fog-horn sounded, and at 6 a. m. was nothing to be 
 seen, folded in with the same fog. Just now there 
 is a visible horizon, but we were still, — half the 
 night, — no matter ; one place is as good as another, 
 and I must say that Mary K. is splendid ; she takes 
 everything en philosophe. She is now getting rid of 
 her French coppers for post-cards of the ship. . . . 
 Fog, fog, everywhere and we may be another night 
 on board ! 
 
 Your Susan. 
 
 To Miss Mary B. Dinsmoor 
 
 Grand Hotel, Napoli, 1910. 
 What month is this? Mehbe April ^2. 
 
 dear MARY, — Rapturous ! After a long and very 
 wobbly voyage, ray head still swimmy-swimmy, I sit 
 here reading a fat bunch of home letters waiting for 
 me, and yours takes the cake. Think of the "kind 
 seer " turning up again. I envy you being chez once 
 more even if you are debarred from your bureau- 
 drawers. Well, " I shall soon be with you," as Har- 
 riet Byron said when she thought it was all up with 
 Sir Charles on account of Clementina, I shall (knock 
 wood) be soon jumping out on my piazza at Matu- 
 nuck, say May 15, or perhaps 13. We sail from here 
 next Friday, 29th, Princesse Irene, you know. 
 
 My dear, this voyage was fiendish; and I've got 
 the taste of it still in my mouth. We left Marseilles 
 in blithesome mood, — that was Wednesday, 3 p. m. 
 
4T0 LETTERS OF SUSAI^^ HALE 
 
 — with an angel "interpreter" we know there; saw 
 the trunks ; saw the " Angels " in our cabins. Very 
 well. Everybody left us (and went away) tied to the 
 wharf ; and there we stayed till dawn the next morn- 
 ing in fog, the wind was so fierce. I heard the 
 chunky-chunky begin of the engines, in bed about 
 sunrise, so all that day, Thursday, we were wobbling 
 in the fog, and all Friday, until six p. m,, when we 
 were rudely thrust out, without dinner (which no- 
 body wanted) to the cold docks of jS^aples. All this 
 time there was nothing under heaven to do, no good 
 places to sit, a great upper dreary deck with nobody 
 on it but me and Mary K. and only one steamer 
 chair, and the ramparts, — I mean bulwarks — so 
 high you could n't see anything if you sate down, be- 
 sides there wasn't anything to see, only fog. Only 
 fourteen passengers at two sparse, round tables for 
 luncheon, only two ladies, the rest in bed. I sate for 
 the most part in the corner of my cabin, to the detri- 
 ment of my spine, reading an Italian novel, to get up 
 my languages. I got lost once going up to see Mary 
 on her lonely deck, whence all but her had fled, and 
 was only extricated by instrimients from the bowels 
 of the ship. Well, no matter, it 's over now, only I 
 feel like a dog. We rattled in an old-fashioned omni- 
 bus (three horses) over the paving stones, for miles 
 and miles you know to this hostelry, but here I have 
 a charming room and everybody (although all dead) 
 recognising me. That 's a gift of hotel men, they 
 carry on the illusion or tradition. I generally expect 
 to find the Charles Longfellows sitting at dinner. 
 But they ain't here now because they did n't come. I 
 don't for the moment want to see, feel, hear, taste nor 
 smell anything till I get over this wobble. There, 
 did you ever hear me give a voyage such a black eye ? 
 
 Yours, 
 SusAJsr. 
 
LAST YEARS 471 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 N'ew York, Friday, May 13, 1910. 
 NOW NELLY DEAR, — Doii't worrj, biit I have a 
 paralysed arm since that storm I wrote you about, my 
 left one, so it 's not so very bad, and Mary is an 
 angel. We go to Matunuck to-morrow, and Arthur 
 and Edward are both here. Will write from there. 
 I am not sick at all, only helpless. 
 
 Your Susan. 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 Matunuck, May 15,1910. 
 
 OH NELLY ! — It 's rapturous, everything so nicey- 
 nicey, Mary K. a wonder. I got here by " uzle train " 
 all right, and Dr. Gardiner's horse, I mean his auto, 
 was browsing on the lawn; for Arthur had warned 
 him in a telegram that my wrist was paralyzed, you 
 know. He was splendid and says that people usually 
 are paralyzed when they come from abroad, and such 
 things. I am not wobbly now on that account, but 
 because Mary and me have not got over the voyage 
 yet. So don't worry about me because I am so happy 
 to be here. It never seemed so good before. Great 
 robins on the lawn, and dandelions and things and 
 May perfect. Everything was ready for us and 
 Mame Tucker still on the ship after the finishing 
 touches of house-cleaning. Lots of love from your 
 happy Susan. 
 
 Arthur and Edward were angels. Nobody else 
 here yet. 
 
472 LETTERS OF SUSAI^ HALE 
 
 To Miss Ellen D. Hale 
 
 MatunucKj Rhode Island, June 22? 
 DEAR NELLY, — For once it is warm at Matunuck, 
 in fact broiling at 7:30 a.m. Breakfast on front 
 piaz. Everything looks lovely, honeysuckle, wild- 
 roses all about. Good for cripples as well as bipeds. 
 My parlour is full of flowers everybody sends, for it 
 is the heyday of the roses, and every bowl is filled. 
 These are Ma Browning's ramblers. She is very 
 proud of them. N'o news and we may have a N. E. 
 storm before night. 
 
 YorE Susan. 
 
 My doctor takes good care of me, but I am quite 
 useless.