pp 1-8 Henry B. Blackwell's account bkk. Cincinnati, [Ohio], 1848 pages 10-304 Diary of Alice Stone Blackwell 15 yrs old Sept 14, 1872 February 1, 1872-Sept 14, 1872 p. 303 Sept 26, 1874 p. 294 - index to identification of namesCincinnati Monday February 14th 1848 7 Fixtures a/c To Bills Payable 15 For my note to Bevan, Todd?es for sheet iron to make moulds 50 28 7 Fixtures a/c To Bills Payable 15 For my 4 mos. note of Feby. 3d given John Cline for cisterns 350 " 7 Fixtures a/c To Bills Payable 15 For my 4 mos. note of Feby. 10th given as above to clode a/c of cisterns 347 76 7 Fixtures a/c To Bills Payable 15 For my note of given D. Harris for machinez 1605 " 7 Fixtures a/c To Bills Payable 15 For my note Dec 1st/47 given Frederic Brandt for instruction in boiling sugar 100 " 7 Fixtures a/c To Bills Payable 15 For my note Jan. 20.4mos. given Rebar for sheet iron 490 21 15 Sundries To Bills Payable 19 Harrison & H?ope? For my 90 day note given 1225 92 9 Harrison &H. for sugar as Merchandise for Receiving book. Feb.10. 19 " 1244 92 9 Merchandize To Bills Payable 15 For my 4 mos. note given [*Herb*] Guelick -payable M.& ?. for 999 lbs. of sugar-pa?er Feb. 15.th. 82 42 9 Merchandize To Bills Payable 15 For my 90 day Note given for Bo?? black to Butler & Bro. Feb. 17. M & T. Bk 310 17 Cin. Monday 14. February 1848. 2 15 Sundries To Bills Payable 21 M.B Ross For my note ? 80 days given 510 " 9 to M. B. Ross & Co. for sugar Feb 15. merchandize payable at Lafayette BR. 6 80 576 80 15 Sundries To Bills Payable 21 M.B Ross &Co. For my note 100 day Note given 510 " 9 to M. B. Ross & Co. for sugar Feb 15. merchandize payable at Lafayette BR. 8 50 518 50 22 Sunds. To D.Harris 93 50 23 Schultz E?. trip p? in N.Y. 34 " 7 Fixtures Stamp M. , Therms. K? 59 50 ---------------------March 10----------------------- 15 Sundries. To B.Pay. 21 M.B.Ross&Co. My note @ 90 dys. dated 9th for sugar &. Int. $538.96 & ? dates 10th for $597.15 1.136 11 --------Tuesday 21. March ----------------------- 1 Cash To Sunds. Amt. fr. Cash BR. 2.686 25 Sunds. To Cash 1 Amt. fr. Cash BR. 2.733 86 24 Expended To Schultz 23 Wages. 63 " 45 H. Emerson To B. Pay. 15 For my 90 dy. note Mar. 17. to bal. a/c 427 79 49 Kellog & ??. To B. Pay. 15 My 90 dy. note of Feb.15. for sugar&int 587 17 43 Butler&Bro. To B. Pay. 15 For my 2 notes at 4 mo. dated Feb.12. for 377.30 " 26. " 377.92 755 22 These notes to be paid by Butler &Bro. [?]3. Cincinnati Monday 27. March 24 Expenses To H. Cook 31 For wages to date 40 9 Merchandise To MC. & Pullaw 29 For 6 Bbls. Mol. N.O. pr. Bill 221&gal. 57 59 9 Merchandise To Sunds 49 Kellogg & K. For 50 Bbls. N.O. Mol pr. Bill 495 93 29 MCullough & Pullaw For 100 Bbls. N.O. Mol 26 of 1.080.81 ,, 63 do. (Sour) 16& 411.26 1.49207. 15 Sunds. To B. Pay. 7 Fixtures my 4 mos. note Feby. 24. To Mr. Robson 298 98 41 John Swasey & Co. my 90 of. note Mar. 20. bal. of 101 22 35 Joseph Hey To Bills Payable 15 For my 45 day note Apl. 1st 1848 payable at Life & Trust Co. given former on a/c 150 7 Fixtures a/c To Jeffery Seymour 47 Sept. 1st For his bill of belting for Mills 39 09 00 Merchandise To B Pay 00 Error 00 00 00 Merchandise To Kel. & Ken. Error 00 24 Expenses To H. Felterman 38 For wages~ 31 73 [24]9 [Expenses] Merchandise To Butler & Bro 43 Bill send for black 755 22 24 Expenses To B. Pay 15 My body note Apl 7. to Cin. Ins. & Co. 100 Cincinnati Monday 17th April 1848 4. 50 B. Receri To Hanna I. 60 For body note even date to close of 50 40 36 Sunds To W. Parkindson 7 Fixtures 4 mos. to Feb. 22 & 40. 160. 160 24 Expenses 2 " " Apr. 22 " 80 Board to Apr. 22 26.25 106.25.. 36 W. Parkinson To Expenses 24 For 1 [??] & @ Mar. 100 @ 60. 15 24 Expenses To Parkinson 36 Sunds p@ by him 255 Ins. Richards To Merchandise For Hhos. 10+ 7 Fixtures To J. Parkinson 36 Pd. for in Buffalo 3. V &2 overby on James b. 7 Fixtures To Bills Payable 15 Pd. CV Westover's 90 day not for bill 220 95 9 Merchandise To W. Carnes 28 For 15 Ncol. Bbls (Apl. 25.) 15 7 Fixtures To Sundries 54 V. Miste For Amt Bill Pots 56 25 24 Expenses For Amts charged "Expenses" wrongly Feby. 25. "Allow for Brands" 9.50 Mch. 24. "Leslel for Pots" 24. 33 50 58 J.C. Morris Amt. Bill Masonry 60 Jos. Hey Bill iron work 263935. Saturday 29. April 1848. 57 G.H. Hartwell To Adams & [?] 64 For their acceptance in payt. [?] 1,750 60 B. Receiv. To Yorke, B. & H. 65 For their acceptance on a/c 400. 9 Merchandise. To M.B. Rossolo 21 For 2.1162 gals. 1.64 [?] 338.64 21 M.B. Rossolo To Hel. & Ken. 49 Amt. our ord. 5 Bbls. S.K Mol. 79.80 9 Merchandise To H. & Kennett 49 Coop. & drap. 1.40 57 G.H. Hartwell To B. Pay. 15 For body. note -111.40 9 Merchandise To M.B. Rossolo 21 Amt. by [?] [?] 53.10 7 Fixtures To Sundries 39 Simms Amt. Blacksmith Bill 164.78 34 Wm. Griffith Amt. Carpenter's's Bill 291.23 40 G. Jeffries Amt. Lumber Bill 95.85 39 Stolley Amt. Lumber Bill 61.70 59 Brooks Amt. Bill "connectionists" 133.55 59 Iro. Bonte & Co Amt. Bill .... 11.39 61 W.&R.P. Reson Bill Line .... 141.85 35 Conkling, Wood & Co. Bill Paint .... 21.75 35 Miles Greenwood Bill Castings 115.80 6. Cincinnati Monday 8. May 1848. 24 Expenses To Sunds 48 H. Mass Wages to date .... 75 Henry Filterman Wages to date .... 21.12 63 Druker Wages to date .... 70 46 Ino. Pepper Wages & expenses pr. agreet (& Contract destroyed) .... 115 34 Wm. Griffiths To Merchandise 9 for charge omitted less 65+...15.35 24 Expenses To H. Cook 37 Wages to date 31 46 W. Schmedes To W. Parkinson 36 For 7 weeks boarding to May 6...14 24 Expenses To Schmedes 46 Wages and travel expenses 92.50 7 Fixtures To Conkling Wood Co. Error .00 35 Conk. Wood Co. To Merchand. 9 Sweet water 9 7 Fixtures To Sunds. 51 Burrows Pulv. Mill 40.50 51 C.W. West Co. Scales, Desk, Barrels 52.64 52 Ross & Ricker Sugar Mill 25 24 Expenses To C. W. West Co. 51 20 Empty Bbls. 6.00 24 Expenses To Phillips & Son 52 Stationery 20.401. Cincinnati Monday 8.[?].1848 1. Fixtures To WVGW Robson 49. For his bill of cooper work 1 Fixtures. To Expenses 24 For amt. expensed in labor on Machinery wrongly charged "Expenses" [?] 1 Fixtures To H.B. Blackwell 25 For amt. expended by him in getting up machinery in N. York & Cincinnati + not heretofore credited to him ~ 31 Jas. Johnson + Co. To Expenses 24. dray ~ 2 15. Funds. To Bills Payable McCullough + Pullan. [?] this amt. to square %. 871.64 24 Expenses For allowance + Int. added 25.11. 896.75 Bills Recable. To Trimpe & Ficken For their joint note at 90 days paid [?] by J.A. Trimpe 0.00 ~ 24. Expended To Wm. Dutman For amt. due for drayage to date 87.80 Sundries To Cin Mutual Ins. Co. 0.00 24 Expenses. To Ino. Richards 42 Amt. Bill cooper ~. 253.15 to B. Receivable To Funds. 587.43 65 J.A. Trimpe For joint note of Ficken & Trimpe. 0451. 451. 9 Merchandise 8 Cincinnati Wednesday 21 June 1848. 24 Sundries To Expenses 40 Jeffries For variation in % in For [?] W. Alexander 90 [?] note ~ [?] fav. [?] to Bal.%. 3.82 M. Greenwood + Co. For this amt. allowed on items let 15.80 43 Butter & Bro. For amt. [?] compromise 174.13 213.75 B. Receivable. To Merchandise For Trimpe's 90 [?] note May 18... 0451. For T. W. Alexander [?] note June 19. 136.43 66. J.A. Trimpe To March. 13. For sundries damaged in 452 for which note was given in Merchandise To Butter & Bro. Amt. due on settlement. 388.26 Funds. To Expenses Caldwell. Bal % 1.30 J. B. Russell " " .01 Jeffries. " " .01 Expenses To Funds Simmis Bal % 125. Bonte " " 50. H. Mead. " " 5. Parkinson Brand and board 3 [?] 6 S + H. [?]. 5 " 1.75 8.75 Dray & 1.90. 16.65 2 mos. wages 040. 80. Exp. Single family 87. 167. J. Parkinson To Expenses 2 yrs. rent 2 rooms 30. 30. 9 10 [*(15 years old Sept 14, 72)*] Feb. 1st 1872. Diary of Alice Stone Blackwell. Thursday. Beginning a new volume of my diary, I may as well begin by stating my situation. I, Alice, Elsie or Alsette, am living in the small house at the foot of the hill, waiting till our large burnt house is built up. Papa and Mama and Mary are generally away all day in Boston, Mary Hooper in an Architects office, and my parents at the Journal Office. I am at school from 9 till 12, and from 2 till four; am aged 14, and my chief associate, at least while I am at home is Annie McLeod, our pretty Scotch girl. I am head and Monitor of the 2nd Class, and sit next Hattie Marr, a pretty, fair haired girl who is No. 2. That is about enough introduction, and if Posterity wants more, Posterity will have to do without. Not that I mean to have P. read it - at least, not miscellaneous P. I spent the time before breakfast in copying the Ode to Kitty, which must go today if she is to get it by the 14th. At school Miss Tolman came down upon Ellen McLaughlin in a very severe way, for asking a question about the Arithmetic lesson which Hattie and I were just trying to decide which should ask, and said some things about copying questions which made her cry. I caused a violent commotion in part of the second class by showing Hattie the "Dear Betrothed." at the beginning of one of Kitty's letters The way it came about was this Hattie and Mary Fifield were vio-11 lently disputing for the ownership of the Grand Duke Alexis, ad I told them "I had been engaged for 10 years; that they needn't talk," and to prove it produced the letter to Hattie. Such a commotion as she, Fanny Benedict and Emma Adams raised, that I saw what a opinion of my sense and discretion they must have had, and was decidedly scared lest my character for steadiness was gone forever. Hattie kept trying to pick my pocket of the letter, and exchanging significant looks with me, till we both nearly went into convulsions of suppressed laughter, and I felt twice as well aqquainted with her. After school two or three set upon me at once to steal the letter, but I beat them, and bore it off in triumph. Papa had a caller in the evening, so I spent it reading with Mary. Feb. 2nd Friday. At recess, during the game, Annie Phips and I got to fighting a real wrestling match, and the girls joined hands and formed a ring round us, watching our evolutions with interest, and Mary Fifield called out that she bet on me; I suppose she felt justified in doing so, having herself felt some specimen of my strength. Annie Phips pulled me down upon the bank, but she was undermost, and I kept her so, and the girls crowded round and offered me their congratulations, to the huge disgust of A. Phips who protested that she was the victor. M. Fifield told me she had betted on me, and I crushed her by answering that I did not approve of betting. At cross tag I crossed 12 Sadie Wilson, with whom I am in love, and of course was caught at once, and she gave me "her warmest gratitude," which I was happy to receive. I confided to her the secret about my "dear Betrothed," and she whispers those magic words to me with eyes brimful of fun and mischeif. Took Hattie in to History with me, and raised her curiosity much, by showing her bits of several letters that I had raked up at noon. Mama, Mary, and I spent the evening over the register. I made one outrageously rude remark to Mary, who aggravated me, till I (told) her to hold her tongue. Feb. 3rd Saturday. It is said a scalded child fears cold water; I am sure I do fear being inveigled into a second tea kettle like that with which I burnt myself on June 14th, yet I have walked into one nearly as bad. Annie yesterday got the long expected letter from Ronald Campbell and this morning I teased her about it, and ended by telling her I should go to her room and hunt up the letter. I found a box full, and brought them down to the kitchen, where I opened each and looked at the signature, Annie laughing, remonstrating, and every now and then making a grab at the letters. At last I came to the one I wanted, on lace edged paper, and gave her the rest. I looked at the beginning and end and took one little peek at the middle where I saw a most desperate remark and then Mama interfered, and made me give the letter to Annie, who promised to let me read it, but changed her mind.13 and refused. Mama told me I had never done so naughty a thing since I was borne; and that other transaction suddenly came into my mind, and upset me utterly. I went to school in a very low state of mind though Annie had made some attempts at fun before I left. Hattie had set her mind upon showing me some trick with strings, and I told her if she could do it I would tell her the name of my Betrothed. She did it, and I told her the name was Catharine Barry. At first she refused to believe it, but when convinced laughed and shook her fist at me. Before noon a great snow storm rose, but as I had foreseen something of the kind and worn my waterproof, I was all right. It was really a splendid storm, quite equal to the last, but I spent the afternoon indoors. At Mama instigation I sorted and fixed the huge mass of twine and woorsteds which has been lying in the cupboard, and then rooted Mrs. Brownings Poems out from the library. Mary came home in the middle of the afternoon, when it was just the least little bit beginning to grow dark, and as I was groaning out a wish that I was out, with not quite energy enough to get up and go there, she laughed and said if I went up to the top of the hill I should have enough of it, or something of the sort. Of course that set my back up at once, and I rushed away, put on my things, and set out despite all remonstrances. It really was a very wild storm and I enjoyed it extremely, of 14 course. On the very top of the hill I got a few breaths of salt air, which the storm had brought from the sea: that was the best of the whole. But my Berserker fit was fairly on me, and I did not mean to go home yet, by any means. Down I went past the school house, down through Mill St. and across the railroad, then I turned around and came back the same way. On the top of our hill, in the gateway of our yard, was a great drift nearly as high as the tops of the posts, and I flung myself backward into it, lay there a moment, then rose and went down the hill at a splitting pace. But that my leggings would keep coming down, it would have been almost perfect bliss. Papa got home soon after, wet and cross, but after supper he grew much more amiable. The storm still kept on into the night. I made my peace with Annie after I got home from school, and she actually let me read the letter, in which I found ample material for no end of teasing. Feb 4th Sunday. Wrote out the first rough draft of my composition, and read. The storm kept on part of the morning, and then cleared up very brightly. Did up newspapers in packages at Mama's bidding, and stowed them in the back chamber. [No ?] As I lay in bed after taking my bath I happened to open my eyes and look at the window.15 Great was my surprise to see the sky all red. First I thought of fire, but it was not like fire; then that something was the matter with my eyes; and I sat up and stared but it did not change. I jumped out of bed and looked through the window, and soon made up my mind that they were northern lights. [*Northern lights*] I went down and notified the folks, but they had heard it from Annie, who had been much scared by them, thinking it was the day of judgement, [day] and is still uneasy regarding them. Really they were wonderfully beautiful; a deep dark rose tint, though when the stars shone, but perfectly steady, not flashing and quivering like those at Roseville. Mary and I stood at my window and watched them, till sleepiness and conscience sent me to bed. Feb. 5th Monday Witnessed the idiotic behavior of Maggie Whitton and Carrie Thayer. The boys door, as so often happens, was not opened as soon as ours, and just after I had got in, Charley Bradley[,] came up the steps and in through our door, for which he might have had a check, and went up the boys stairs, while I was proceeding up the girls'. Maggie W. and Carrie T. came hurrying up past me, Maggie two stairs at a time, plainly wishing and intending to get to the dressing room at the same time he did, in which they succeeded. I got in there about the same time too, and heard him making sweet remarks to Carrie Thayer, to my great edification. His presence was 16 inconvenient, as I wanted to pull up my stockings, which I could not do while he was there; but he went at last, and I got them pulled up. But I was fairly disgusted with the sight of Maggie's and Carrie's and C. Bradley's idiocy. Isn't there a girl in school who can keep idiocy out of her head? Not to my knowledge! I fight my best against it, and keep my self pretty well free of idiotic ideas; at least as much as I can; and wholly out out of my actions. And their idiocy really disgusts me. Ugh! There was a great fuss in the afternoon, because of the swooning of Miss Fisher, a teacher in and of the other rooms. Mrs. T. and Mr. Horne hearing of it, left precipitately, and did not come back. Mary Fified was also drafted as an assistant, probably for her strength. The school, our room of it, being left minus their lawful guardians and rulers, began to fidget, and at last to cut up dreadfully. All the scholars almost were either whispering, laughing, or making demonstrations of some sort: some spoke out loud, some cried silence; a fight arose between George Cook and Winny Tilden, Eddy Jenkins now and then joining in, and the confusion rose to such a height that I had two minds to jump up and say "I exert my authority as monitor; 2nd Class, behave!" but I didn't. Thus far I knew nothing of the cause of the commotion, but in the dressing room Laidi flung up her arms and made believe swoon; and going down stairs told me about it.17 Feb. 6th Tuesday. Drawing lesson of course. About as bad walking as ever I knew of. A perfectly dreadful history lesson, which I studied with Hattie, at her request, expressed in dumb show. We spent too much time in groaning over the lesson, and too little in studying, and shook in our shoes at every question, but got through somehow. Ivanhoe in the evening. Made some poetry about Saidi Wilson, my present beloved. She has a "cold and clear cut face" which reminds me of the picture of the North Wind in George McDonalds book, and when she smiles it suddenly sparkles all over. She dresses beautifully too; I dont mean richly, but everything hangs together so. Also she is head of the school and a splendid scholar; a much better one than I am, though only my age; all which are excellent reasons for adoring her. Feb. 7th Wednesday As I gave my hair a hasty combing before going into school, my comb snapped in two, and I was obliged to tuck my hair behind my [he] ears, and put the bits of comb in my pocket. All of them stared, and Miss T. nearly laughed as I gave in my words. Of course I felt very uncomfortable, but it was the best I could do. Maggie Whitten signed to me to study my definitions with her which I accordingly did, and sat with her on the platform, to my no small discomfort when I thought of my hair; but luckily it did not last long, for we were soon called back. Nevertheless, I came home in a state of utter and exult- 18 ing happiness, having walked with Sadi a[s] far as our ways lay together. I took the opportunity of asking her about the little bit of conversation I heard between her and C. Bradley the day after we spoke our pieces. She said if I had heard my name, (which I had told her) that most likely they were speaking of my piece, for they had been discussing the different pieces, and C.B. had been repeating "My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth." We then spoke of that piece, and as we separated I told her that I had asked, not liking to be slandered behind my back without knowing what it was, and she called after me, laughing, that it was not that, but the opposite; which I told her I did not believe, and went to home on air. Went in to Boston in the afternoon, and had another added to my stock of proofs that all boys are not unmitigated scoundrels. I had hunted in vain for an unused catalogue, and had just resigned myself to my fate and engaged one from the owner, when a black eyed boy who was standing near and heard me, pointed one on a bench, which I straightaway seized upon. Drew Ravenshoe and Annals of a Quiet neighborhood at the Public, and went up to the Atheneum, where I selected one of Coopers, being attracted by the picture of a romantic looking pirate, who had just climbed in a window, and was holding a moonlit conversation with a lady; but found afterward to my disgust that he disapproved Womans Rights and called Queen Bess a19 Monster because she was strong minded. Also The Pilot and Battles at Home. At the office neither Mrs. Hinckley nor I could find the letter of directions which Mama, (who has gone to Maine) told me to expect, so I waited for Papa, who said it had doubtless been picked up, and took me down to a tea store, loaded my satchel with tea, and bid me good-bye. I bought two loaves at H. S. and walked up well loaded with five books 2 loaves and a satchel full of tea. My first writing out of composition has been put in the waste paper basket, and I wrote out another, sitting over the register with Mary and Annie, our lawful guardians being away. Feb. 8th Thursday. Saidi's first words to me across the room were that "what I told her I didn't believe yesterday was true." After our noon waiting she came up half the hall to [with] me, and we went on together comparing notes and grievances as Monitors, and telling which were our worst cases. She expressed the same feeling I have had as to our duty of reporting, and proposed making lists of the order of the files. When I left her at the gate, and went hurrying home, I was in such a state of happiness I had to hug myself to keep from bursting. Made my list in the afternoon. In the evening, my parents being away, I was reading The Water Witch, and when I was sure it was between 7[th] and 8, Mary told me it was 20 to 9, and pointed to the clock which said the same; so I soon after tore myself from my 20 book, went to bed in a hurry, lay awake and rolled. Feb. 9th Friday. My confidence in my species was much weakened. Annie promised me not to tell Mary was Olack meant, and after I had gone to bed she coaxed her into doing it by threats of asking John. This Mary confessed while getting ready to go, and also that when she told me it was 20 minutes of 9 she had just set the clock an hour forward, thinking I was overreading myself; which if not a lie was a first cousin to one. I felt very much vexed, remembering how I tore through the last part of the story without enjoying it, and lay awake afterward; also this second lie of Annie's made me feel as if the world was all lies. But Mary and Annie lie to me like all the rest, and I went to school feeling miserable. After 4 I hurried home, finding Mama had got back from Maine, got some money, and started off for Fields Corner to get paper for my composition, as we have none unstamped. Also I had a hope of way laying Sadi, and walking home with her. I caught sight of her coming through the school yard, and turned slowly down Mill St. Presently she came trotting up behind me, and I went on with her in a state of bliss. She said it was rather a long way to Fields corner, and I confessed it was in hopes of having her company, of which she wished me joy as we parted at the gate. She said I could get paper at Parkers, and need not go to the Corner; so I got 6 sheets for five cents, (not very good paper, Met S. King and G. Cook, and went home hugging myself. Papa corrected my composition, which I began to copy, but it hurt my eyes and they made me stop and hear Ivanhoe.Feb. 10th Saturday. Heard Saidi say she was going in on the 1.11 as several of the other girls were too, and I got leave and marched off, with 2 books to return at the Atheneum. The serpent, the Duchess, Carrie and Lulu, were there, and others came afterward. Presently some one said "Here's Sadie," and in she came, as beautiful as ever, and more so. She spoke to me a little, and in the cars she sat down by me. She talked mostly to Josie and another girl on the next seat, but leaned her elbow on me, and I was happy. As we walked through the station she asked me which way I was going, and finding it was hers, said she would walk with me, unless a car came along, and then she supposed she must take it. She was going to the Museum, to see Gold Dust, [*"Gold Dust" at Boston Museum*] so we talked about Theaters, and I found she had seen "Little Emily," over which we went into raptures. Then we got upon the subject of flirting - she started it - and sat in judgement on Ruth Swan and others. I told her my scrape with the Serpent, and she told me what a bad character the same was getting. I said I didn't see how it was possible for any one, even those boys themselves, to respect such girls, and she said, "Oh, they dont! I've stood by that door with Charley Bradly for two months now, and I know. I'll give you one specimen, just for an example. You know when Mr. Horne asked for a word ending in silent e today, Ruth gave 'love,' and he said that it was just the word that would be likely to come into her head first. Now would you like to have that said of you!" I answered "Of course not," and we walked on talking till we came to the door of 22 a restaurant where she was going to get some lunch, and there she bade me good bye and left me. (My state of mind all this time may be imagined.) I went on to the office, but got no letters; to the Atheneum, and drew "Neighbors Wives," but decided to keep the Pilot. Came out on the 3.35 train. My diary has come to be more a record of Saidie's proceedings than mine; but she is fast taking Annie MacPhails place with me. Lately she has tried to scurry out of the dressing room before me, and today I reproached her for trying to leave me in the entry while the boys come out; and she begged pardon. Ivanhoe. Feb. 11 Sunday, Put a new band on my drawers, and read Henry Kingsley. A story by him in every Saturday, which Papa handed over to me, and Ravenshoe. Every thing of his gives me the same feeling, though in a less degree, that The Boy in Grey did. Walked over to North Quincy, with the mud flats looking drearier than I ever saw them, crusted with ice, and felt gloomy. Mama is getting to be just like Aunt Sarah, snarling all the time. [*Lucy Stone "snarling" -->*] I could stand it well enough, though not half as sweetly as Anna, but that Papa looks so tired and [wa] worn that I think I should cry if I didn't feel so much like swearing. Annie was shocked at my sewing, and read me the 4th commandment, to which I replied by directing her attention to the 14th Romans, and quoting Christ and the corn. Made buttonholes, picked up papers, and Read a little of Amyas Leigh. I think that will always be the story of stories for me, as John Brown is the song.13 Feb. 12th Monday. A report was started that some of Miss T.'s relations were sick, and she would not be there, and the girls began a jubilee; but Mr. H. squashed their hopes by saying she would be in presently. Sadi stood by me at recess, spoke of the play (Gold Dust), and offered to chase me. At noon when I came up before the doors were open she came up to me and said she had got there first; talked of Gold Dust, touched on flirting, and after we were let in came and sat by me and questioned me about Our Mutual Friend, which she has never read. After school he signed to me to look at the clock, and I talked a few minutes with her waiting [at] in the entry. Mary having broken the chimney of the big lamp, which Mary has hunted through Dorchester to replace, despairingly appealed to me to go to H.S. [*H.S. Harrison Square (Dorchester)*] through the mud and get some small chimneys, which I did. My feather was taken in to be curled. Took Hattie Mann into the closet for History. G. Cook was in the dressing room and we could hear him hemming and hawing and getting the hiccups. Ivanhoe. Feb. 13 Tuesday. At recess Sadie asked me the name of Mortimer Lightwood, and the boys threw hard snowballs, none of which hit me. The walking is horrible, and when I had got half way back to school I stepped into the mud and splashed my stockings very badly. Back I rushed, changed my socks faster than I ever did before in my life, and sped back, meeting Mr. Horne, also late. Missed in Geography! Bit myself going down the stairs with Sadie, went home and swore at Annie in Gaelic, at Mary in French, and at 24 Mama in English. (I think it necessary to my reputation to mention that I only said "The Deuce," in English.) Papa had the jaw ache, but read Ivanhoe part of the evening nevertheless. He has bought a new horse, a successor to poor Billy, and a very pretty creature. He has also suspended the white lamp chimney from the ceiling with two strings, our best lamp chimney being broken, and the other lamp being minus a shade. Took Fanny Benedict into the closet, where we found Sadie's Geography, which I returned, and was rewarded by a smile. Mem. never to let Posterity get this. A letter from Kitty. Feb. 14th Wednesday. A gray day. Sadie did not come out at recess, but as she passed me in her carriage going home, she looked through the window, smiled and shook her fist at me. Walking vile. A great thaw. Our front yard is completely filled with water; the hens cannot get out of the hen house, and I can't get in; John has to wade through to feed them. Went to Boston with my waterproof hood over my head; found my way along the streets Papa goes through to the Atheneum, where I got Elsie Venner, A History of Wales, and another book the name of which I have forgotten. Mama then took me shopping, and bought me a pair of gloves and 10yds Scotch plaid for a dress. Came out alone and supped with Mary and Annie. Elsie Venner in the evening. Feb. 15th Thursday. I have caught a Tartar. Positively the most frightful story I ever read. Oliver Wendell Holmes ought to be indicted25 for writing it. I mean Elsie Venner. No wonder Mama told me I had better not read it. Still, I went to it with my eyes open, and if I have brain fever and rave about rattlesnakes, it is my own fault. But I had no idea how frightful it was. I have just finished the first volume. I shan't begin the other tonight; its not safe. That scene where she saves him from the rattlesnake has utterly upset me; I am so nervous I cant even write decently. I must finish this entry tomorrow, and read Amyas Leigh to compose myself. That will do it if anything can. What would Sir Richard Grenville have done with such a creature as Elsie, I wonder? When I wrote that last I was too much excited to put down the days events. There weren't many. Went down to Fields Corner, and inquired for letters, but there were none. I walked with Hattie as far as our ways lay together, and stopped in with her at Fanny Benedict's. Fanny had a headache, and had not been at school. Her house is full of plants, and smells like a green house. There came a letter from Kitty threatening to hang me at the yard arm if I were faithless, as I didn't write to her often enough while I was in the midst of that terrible Elsie Venner. Ivanhoe, the trial of Rebecca, and to bed to dream of the inquisition, and coming back at the risk of my life to save this diary. Sadie gave me an apple, and I [*saved the skins. Mama let me have a ledger for a few minutes and then lit the fire with it.*] Feb. 16th Friday. Forgot what day it was, and went out to History with Emma Adams, but no on said anything. Scurried out of the dressing room with Sadie, 26 who rushes away rubbers in hand and things half on, but cant get down before me. I am afraid our disorderly proceedings will get us into disgrace. When Hattie Burdett came down I knew Sadie would wish to go, so looked at the clock, announced the news, and was rewarded by a brilliant smile. If Posterity ever get this, I am a flirt! and I couldn't make that any stronger. Sadie borrowed my knife, and we got reproved for speaking by the basket after the bell had struck. We drew a background for the first time, and I made bad work of mine. Valiantly resisted the temptation to read Elsie Venner till the lamps were lighted; then read, and stopped just before I got quite upset. Ivanhoe. Feb 17th Saturday. I had forgotten all about my definitions, and hurried off to school, overtaking Miss Gilbert. As I came through the yard, an angel stood up at an open window and called to me through it. It was Sadie looking like a [re] living sunbeam, and after I got in, she exultingly said she had got there first. As I hastily copied out my words, she bade me apply to her for definitions if I needed; which I did. After recess as she hurried past me in the dressing room she said she wanted to speak to me after school; she had a new plan. After our usual scurry down I asked her what it was, and she told me she had written down the names of her worst girls, and told them she would report them, and it had the best possible effect.27 She waited at the foot of the stairs till she had told me. As I afterward walked along with her and Hattie Burditt Sadie was in great vexation because her side had been beaten in the spelling match; we had not chosen sides, but Mr. Horne had put me on hers. Sewed on my chemise in the afternoon, and nearly finished it. Feb. 18th Sunday. Made a fool of myself. It is not my habit to behave idiotically,- over a story at least- but I did it over Ravenshoe. Finding myself crying. I went up to my room and onto my bed, where I lay reading, and winking away my tears when I was crying too hard to see the words. Henry Kingsley will certainly make an end of me sooner or later. First the Boy in Grey, and then Ravenshoe! Went up to the house with Papa, who went up a ladder, and then came down and let me in. [*House at 45 Bontwell[?] St It was pleasant an sunny and blue and breezy, but I disapprove of all the alterations but Mama's low window. Mama went off to lecture, and I, having promised her the chemise should be finished, finished it, while Papa read the Geography of the Sea, and I tried to seem interested, though I hardly heard what he said. Feb. 19th Monday. Sadie called to me from the window again, and we made an agreement to see which would get there first in the afternoon. I was victorious, and deserved to be so , as I started at 5. of 1, and read Ravenshoe under the trees till she came. I had told her of my making an idiot of myself over Ravenshoe, and she sat down by me on the wall [28] and asked to be shown the "crying part". I showed, and she sat by me reading and asking questions till a teacher came, when we made a rush for the door, and I got in first, she holding onto my skirts. After school Hattie Mann and walked to Milton Lower Mills, and back by Dr. Means' church. I had horrified her dreadfully while we were supposed to be properly learning History, by letting her know I sewed on Sunday. I did not enjoy the walk much, but on the home way I happened to mention "Woman's Rights," and she answered by asking if I stood up for them. I said of course I did; she said she did not; I said so I supposed; she said she didn't want to be a lawyer; [she] I said that was no reason I shouldn't; she said she didn't want to vote, anyway; I said she would not have to; she was under the idea every man had to vote unless he could get a substitute, which I convinced her was not so. Soon after we separated on our winding ways, a carriage came up, behind me, containing Sadie, Hattie Burditt, and the two young ones with roses in their bonnets. She stopped, asked if knew where Mr. Silas Hopkins lived, and invited me to get in. We rode on, joking about her fiery steed, and she drove me to the brow of the hill, asked how far my house was, apologised, let me out, and drove to her own place. My eyes hurt so in the evening that I sat with a wet cloth over them, while Papa read Ivanhoe. [*on woman's rights*]Feb. 20th [*29*] Tuesday. Saw Sadie go into the yard, but came up later. Was a few minutes before her in the afternoon. The girls have got up what they call "Mystic Albums," in which you are to write, fold and seal the leaf down, and write on the outside your name, and when it is to be opened. Read in the afternoon, and darned stockings at night. Went out to the stable and held the lantern while Papa fed and watered Billy. Feb. 21st Wednesday. There was a sort of a celebration which I had hardly known of, in honor of Washingtons birthday being tomorrow; singing, playing, declamations and a reading by Charley Bradley of W'n's address. A villainous lot of horrid little boys from the lower rooms sat on settees ranged round behind us on purpose, and aggravated me beyond endurance. When they sang America I sang "God Save the Queen", through the two first verses, which are really idiotic. I dont think any one found me out, though. I got there before Sadie, and called to her from the window, but she did not hear, and Mr. Horne came down upon me, asking me to think how it would look to the people outside. A battle royal took place at recess between us girls, each[ing] having taken the name of some English or American General of the Revolution. Those who had muffs used them as weapons; Sadie had none; she was Burgoyne; Hattie Burditt was Howe; I was Clinton, to be on their side; Maggie Whitton was Washington. The fight ended with a general stampede at the end of recess. Mary Fifield and I practice calling one another all the [*30*] bad names we can string together. Yesterday she sent me two notes in school calling me villainous ones, and after school I sent her one by Sadie. I called Hattie Mann a bad girl while we were in the closet, and she said I was the bad one as I sewed on Sunday, and I replied by telling her she was worse, as she didn't believe in Womans Rights: [*Woman's Rights vs sewing on Sunday*] "Why Alice Blackwell?" cried she, "do you mean to say you think it's as wicked not to beleive in Womens Rights as to sew on Sunday?" I said "I think its quite as much of a mistake," and bade her not turn it into a Womans Rights meeting, but learn her lesson. Went in on the train with Josie Jones, drew "The Guardian Angel," a[s] swindle, I think, from the Public, and renewed Ravenshoe for Mary. At the Atheneum I got Geoffrey Hamlyn, Magdalen Hepburn, and Zerub Throops experiment. Came out on the same train as Mama, but not with her. Drove up. I am afraid the new horse is very nervous by the way he acts. Ivanhoe. Feb 22nd Thursday. Washington's Birthday! The bells rang before I was down in the morning, and afterward they fired guns. No school, of course, and grumblings because we can't have the rest of the week also. I made a lemon pie in honor[*31*] of the day, while Mary made molasses candy, Mama something else, and Annie helped generally. After my pie was in we all set to work and pulled the candy with much mirth. Read, and mended my green night gown. Made some poetry to Toby, very dripping. Papa finished Ivanhoe. Feb. 23rd Friday. Cheifly devoted to hostilities between Mary Fifield and myself. We exchanged various notes of vituperation, and Sadie, who espoused my cause with interest, told me of a place in the reading book where I could find names, and brought her book to me in school to show me the page. The consequence was a stunning epistle which I presented to Mary when she came down stairs. She also had one in readiness; we exchanged, and she took up her station in the dressing room, and we mutually read, laughed, and skook our fists malevolently at each other. My note was much the worst though, thanks to Sadie, and she, Hattie Burditt and I supported her along her homeward way, while she rolled about and butted her sleek round head into us in convulsions of laughter. I devoted recess to composing a thunderbolt, and set off to school with it in my pocket. Sadie and I mutually caught sight of each other from a long distance, waved our hands, and she set out to meet me. We afterward met Mary Fifield with whom I exchanged notes, and we went on, reading. She had gathered up a quantity of long words; but if hers were the longest, mine were the worst. In the evening Mary and Annie went off, and I spent the evening alone with Mama, composing a note for M. Fifield. Feb. 24th, Saturday. Put my note under M. Fifield's inkstand. She found it, and read it to Sadie. We were examined in Arithmetic, and I got 100; for the first time. I worked very hard at it, and deserved to succeed. Mended my muff, sewed new ends onto my sash, sewed up the sides of my chemise, and read Geoffrey Hamlyn. Went over to the house beyond Mr. Putnams for cider and vinegar, with Annie, and when I came back I found that someone who from the description I am sure must have been Sadie and her fiery steed, [as] had enquired for me apparently to take me out riding. Felt very uncomfortable and cross, it being a warm day, and thawing. Late in the afternoon I was fired with a project; namely, to go and look at Sadies windows after dark. I asked Mama if I might borrow Annie, and Annie if she would be borrowed. Mama was doubtful, but Annie was willing, and after supper I was brought into the sitting room, where my parents sat in solemn conclave, and requested to tell my purpose. This I declined to do, protesting however that it was harmless, and after a great deal of badgering, and an emphatic charge to Annie not to let me do anything bad, I was allowed to go. So Annie and I set out through the bright moonlight, she on thorns to know what was going on, for though I had[*33*] exacted the deepest promises of secrecy I had told her nothing. When we came to the place I passed and repassed several times, stopping when I dared, for the moon was very bright. The blind was up, and I could catch glimpses of what was inside, and of a young lady, whether Sadie or not I could not make up my mind, who scared me by looking out at me. If she has recognized me, I shall emigrate to Australia. Then we came home, Annie making frantic guesses as to my reasons for such conduct. We got home safely, and went to bed unquestioned. Feb. 25th. Sunday. Bathed, studied my grammar, recited my history to Mama, and sewed on my chemise. I am really living upon the remembrance of my sight of Sadie in that bright warm elegant room. Did up the dishes with Mary and at Mama's request practiced lady like behaviors at table. It was a success. Feb. 26 Monday. Examined in grammar in the morning. I got 98, and Hattie 80. I feel pretty sure of any Monitorship. I wish I was as sure of Sadie's keeping hers. Examined in History in the afternoon. Mary Fifield said she had left my last note on the dining table, and that her father had got it, read it, and told her that "the young lady who wrote that must have hated her pretty bad." Bad grammar! I struck consternation into her soul by telling her I had shown hers to Mama. She asked what Mama said, and I told her I believed she didn't say anything, only laughed. Asked Sadie if she had read Our Mutual Friend yet, and she said she had begun it, but could not read much at a time as the print was small. We compared our eye troubles, and when I told of my having sat a whole evening with a wet cloth over my eyes, she grunted, and said I might think myself lucky to get off with only one evening of it. She borrowed my knife. A glorious day, with a cloudless sky and a furious wind, which sends the dust whirling along the road and covers the sea with white caps; but frightfully cold. Read Magdalen Hepburn. Feb. 27th Tuesday. Annie threatens to go. A false alarm. Various corrections in the morning[s], and Geography examination in the afternoon. Sadie did not get on her things as soon as I did, and as I passed her I whispered that I should be down first. I heard a scurry of foot steps behind me, and before I reached the bottom Sadie had whisked down the boys' stairs, laughing and silently clapping her hands. After school I wrote out a petition for the loan of Annie in the evening, and presented it at head quarters. I was to be allowed to go on condition that the wind went down. Papa sat with his feet on the top of the stove, saturated with laziness, and rated me for enjoying stories, and formed plans to give me a taste for instructive literature, and ended by making me bring Plutarchs Lives, and beginning to read[*35*] them aloud. Annie came in to have me start, and interrupted this delightful species of entertainment. We set out together through the splendid, cold, windy starlight night, and went down Mill St. to Sadie's. I was bolder than before, as the moon was not up, and actually ventured to creep into the yard, but quickly hurried out again. We went up into the Carter's yard, and looked through a side window with plants, but could get no satisfactory views. However, we made out that there were two males in the room, and I was so scared when I saw one with a moustache glaring right at me as I stood on tip toe looking over the hedge, that Annie and I straightway departed home, not to say fled. Having heard Sadie invite Hattie Burditt to come over and study spelling with her, I was in hopes to have caught them at it. Annie made me promise to tell her what I came out for, but I put her off by telling her it was to look at someones windows, which she knew before, but at last I told her the whole story. I can see she doesn't know what to make of it. Feb. 28 Wednesday. Examined in spelling. Mine all right, I think. Was tormented all day, especially in school, by an odd, but most distressing feeling in my nose, as if someone was tickling the inside with a feather. Went into the city and to the Public with Josie, and got Hide and Seek and Shirley, I don't think I shall like either of them. At the Atheneum, I got a book which I do like, a fairy story of George Macdonalds called the Princess and the Goblins. I read it through in the evening. Papa had brought out and left a minister and a small boy. The minister had a funny hooked nose and reminded me of Jack Brimblecombe. The boy was small and fat and pretty and unpleasant, and Annie and I rated him in the best of Gaelic over his innocent and unconscious head. At supper the minister- Mr. Sterritt, I think his name is- said [*on asis lecturing mention of L. Stone*] he hoped I should lecture, or to that effect, and I answered that I had not brass enough; that I could not bear being stared at. I found afterward that this was a double edged thrust, as the brass reflected on Mama, and the staring on him, as he was looking at me, and then looked out of the window. They departed after supper and Papa came home, and was fed, to my envy and admiration, I finished the jar of cider. Feb. 29 Thursday. I waited with my heart in my mouth for the list of places. I was first, then Agnes, then Fannie, then Hattie, then Jenkins. The first class places are not given out yet, but Sadie seems sure she shall not be Monitress. She went down the boys stairs again, and got down first; though I hopped down two steps at a time; but she got a reproof from Mr. Horne, and came near having a check, so she says she does not mean to try it again. The whole school was in a state of excitement over a surprise party to be given to Arthur Carter that evening, to which most[*37*] of them were invited. I wish I was invited to things sometimes. After school I went down to Fields Corner for a darning needle, as Mama says I must buy her one in place of the one I broke. Emma Adams, Ruth Swan,and Hattie Mann were escorting Charley Bradley home, and they were having some dispute about a letter, which Emma protested she would show C. B. while Ruth declared she should not. They were all struggling together when I passed them and making noise enough for ten murders. When I passed the spot going back the ground was strewn with bits of paper, so I judge they tore it up at last. There were no letters. Read and darned. March 1st Friday. The second class left the room just before the first changed their seats. When we came back Sadie had got the seat next mine! My bliss is indescribable. Wrote notes to Mary Fifield. Mama wanted some cloth from Boston, and bade me get excused a few minutes before 4, and go in for it on the 4.10 train. I did so, and had the pleasure of finding that Mama had mistaken the time, and waiting an hour in the depot. Josie went in on the same train, and directed me on a nearer way to Summer St. and Hoveys. It was quite dark when I got back, and I was horribly scared on the way home by a boy sitting on a fence and hooting, whom my fancy magnified into three drunken men. Bought 1/4 lb. chocolate drops. March 2nd [*38*] Saturday. 20 past 8 P.M. Sadie was away from school all day, and I heard nothing of her, so I felt it really necessary to go and look at her windows. I gave notice to Annie, and also to Mama, who said nothing whatever, either then or when I referred to it in the course of the day. I took the chocolate drops to school, meaning to offer Sadie some, but she being absent, ate them. Mr. Horne announced that a prize of $5.00 for the best composition on Kindness to Animals, and the Animals paper for one year for the next best, would be given, the compositions to be given in by March 15th. Also a notice of our declamations, which are to be on the last half day before the vacation Oliver Optic, otherwise Mr. Adams, Emma's father, examined us in various things. He is short, dark and square, and she certainly does not inherit her prettiness from him; but he seems good natured. I made candy, and tried to bear the fitting of my dress and sack by Miss Everett like an angel, but felt rather nervous as to my oonyacking from Mama's persistent silence. It was a gray day, and late in the afternoon a wild storm of wind and snow rose. Papa came, bringing me a letter from Kitty, and Annie two, one from Ronald Campbell. Mama decidedly forbid my stirring from the house, and as I saw her mind was made up, I retired to the library and sat down on the floor to be miserable. With the darkening gloom and storm and leafless woodbine outside the window, I felt almost ladylike. Felt unhappy all the evening. Read Magdalen Hepburn. March 3rd, Sunday. My head felt very bad all day; not aching, but tired and sick.38 Read some, looked over pieces, and got my list down to two. Made candy, and wrote to Kitty and Aunt Elizabeth. Confided some of my woes and worries to Mama, who proposes stopping some of my lesson. Washed at night. March 4th. Monday. Had a dreadful time, with no clean socks. Hastily washed the cleanest pair, and put them over the register, but had to go at 20 of 9 with one damp one. Mama sent a note to Miss Tolman by me to give her notice I should come only in the morning. When I brought up my sums she said laughing that she was sorry I was to leave off, but of course did not want me to have headaches. The girls to whom I mentioned it lamented and remonstrated. It seemed so very queer not to go back after dinner! Made a good deal of candy, which turned out very well. Went sliding in the yard with Mary and Annie, and cleared some snow off to lengthen the slide. Mary had to go in soon and Annie had a bad fall, hitting her head. Papa began to read the Antiquary aloud. March 5th Tuesday. Composed and sent Mary Fifield three verses of poetical abuse, after showing it to Sadie, who said it was the best yet. Mary said first that she couldn't come up to that; then that she would fix me. Distributed my home made candy in my usual awkward way, to Sadie and others. Sadie asked how I made it, expressed surprise at the spoon part, and said it was good. That minx Emma Adams sent some to Bradley, and Hattie said she had told [me] him it was from me; but when I quoted the 9th commandment at Emma, she protested she had only said it was my making. It is the coldest day this year; thermometer 3 below 0; one boy at school had a thumb frozen, another his ears. Bright and sunny though, and I was vexed that no on went out at recess. In the afternoon, ironed the towels and handkerchiefs, read The Princess and the Goblins to Mary, cut out and basted the lining of my dress, under Mama's supervision, and made a lot more candy after supper. One of my poor hens, who has been ailing ever so long, had her feet frozen, and was kept before the fire most of the day. Cold!! March 6th Wednesday. Sadie was absent, but some books of hers, among them two stories, were on my desk, and I regaled myself with In School and out during the intervals of lessons. The authorities in Boston say it is the coldest weather there has been for 45 years. I was bundled up the feet deep to go to school, yet my feet were nearly frozen. In the afternoon I made mincemeat for pies, also candy, and read Hide and Seek. Also, I feel very miserable. I wish I had been Alice Lauder or Dunbar, or Marjorie, or Jean Bowman, or Magdalen herself! They believed something then, and seemed to feel it so close and real, and knew what they did believe, above all. I have been roused out of a most gloomy and theological state of mind by Mamma's telling me there is a surprise in store for me tomorrow, and Mary and I asked questions and got ourselvesthoroughly puzzled; but as we did up the dishes, an idea occurred to Mary, and she gave me hints, and at last confessed that last evening she overheard what makes her suppose that they have laid hands on one of my pieces, and are going to have it come out in the Journal! I beat myself flat against the door, put my piecebook up my back, and spent the evening sewing and reading. Papa left for N.Y. after Breakfast. March 7th Thursday. School in the morning. The ruling excitement at present is Mary Fifields party, to take place tonight. [*desire to be like other girls*] I am not invited. I wish I was. Of course Mary has a perfect right to choose her[e] own guests; but I was quite well aqqcuainted with her, and I do wish I could sometimes have a little fun like other girls,and live something as they do. The serpent and several others had their hair in papers, wherefore I rightly judged that they were going. In the afternoon Mama brought home my surprise. It actually is that Toby thing, altered and put on the first page of the Journal, with A.S.B. at the bottom. I was prepared [*ASB's first piece printed in W. Journal*] for it, yet sat down on the floor and shrieked, after my usual style. Mama seems rather disgusted that I am not pleased, and showed[g] signs of turning blue; so I decided to be pleased, and abated my wrath. March 8th Friday. Sadie has a bad sore throat, Hattie Burditt says, and will not be at school for several days. I wanted to go oonyacking, but Mama forbade, and 42 gave me a lecture on drunken men. She proposes to buy a large dog for my escort, as I have confessed the whole matter. I took too much mince pie and cider at dinner, and became slightly intoxicated, to the great eddification of Mary and Annie. Went over to Mrs. Mudies with Mary, taking some work, and I finished a pair of crochetted white mats for which Mama has furnished materials. Slid very successfully in the yard. Mama had a terrific headache, and I nursed her and put her to bed, and tucked her in. March 9th. Saturday. Went out into the recitation room with Fanny Benedict for spelling. Annie has a whitlow on her finger, which is making trouble. Mary has received an idiotic proposal from an invalid gentleman, who had advertized for a companion to an invalid, which advertisement she had answered, supposing him to be a lady. We had the Widow of Glencoe for the reading lesson, and the last 4 lines fell to Charley Bradley's share. I managed to live through it. In the dressing room he twice remarked that it was a fine piece, in a sneering way. Went into Boston, and did lots of errands. Got the letters and the papers at the office, and my pin at Mr. Gardeners. Had bad luck at the Atheneum, for they had neither Macdonalds poems nor Whittiers Home B[l]allads. I got Old Manse and story of a Bad Boy instead, returning the Welsh History and Magdalen Hepburn, and went to the Public, which was crowded, and I had to wait[ith] 35 m. but got both the books I wanted, Zaidee and in school and Out.43 March 10th Sunday. I determined that I would make out the first rough draft of my composition of Kindness to Animals today, and did it, with much trouble, and by no means to my satisfaction. And I have one more to add to my list of dreadful bathing adventures. I was washing in the dining room, and John pumping in the kitchen. I had charged Mary to make him go round to the cellar the other way, but she went into the closet, and he took the opportunity - unconsciously, I hope - of starting for the furnace. He cast one glance at me as I stood horror stricken in my long green nightgown, and discreetly inspected the floor for the rest of the way. I was as completely covered as if I had been dressed, yet I wished myself in Australia, which Mr. Horne says is the Antipodes of New England. Mary and Mama consoled me afterwards. Papa got home from N.J. bearing [*Henry B.B. home from New Jersey*] a letter from Florence, which I answered. A miserable dripping day. Annie's whitlow was very painful, and she went down to her uncle's. A boy came up afterward to say she was not coming back till her finger was better. Antiquary. March 11 Monday. Sadie still absent. Miss T. asked me if I was any better, and I told her I thought my head did not ache so much; but that very afternoon, though I spent it very reasonably in crochetting and helping Mary roll up [fold], sprinkle and take in the clothes, I had the most frightful sick headache, almost, that ever I had in my life, which made me utterly useless, and awfully cross, as far as my misery would let me. 44 March 12th Tuesday. Snowing. Sadie gone. Only one session, but I was let out at 12. Mary Fifield most brazenly came and sat by me in school, and tormented me after her usual fashion. By way of vengeance I wrote some verses descriptive of her personal appearance, and pinned them to the inside of her cap as I passed through the dressing room. Annie made a call here yesterday, looking prettier than ever, but says she is not coming back till her finger is well. She had it cut by Dr. Fifield last night, and squealed till he said "Hut tut, dont make such a noise in a man's house." Just like her, no grarge! My head did not ache, but I felt generally miserable. Made some candy, which did not turn out well at all. Antiquary. Wrote out my composition for the second time. March 13th Wednesday. Hattie Burditt and I chased one another most of recess. I asked her about Sadie, and she said she had not seen her that day; beleived she was a little better, but had been much troubled by fainting fits. I had a letter from Kitty last night. Her writing gets worse and worse, and I suspect she is faithless. She enclosed a letter from my little cousin Lily Rogers, speaking of me very pleasantly. To my great delight I found Annie at work with Mary just as usual when I cam home from school. She gave me some Gaelic and read Ossian and Mountain Adventures, and crochetted. There was a regular rebellion in school.45 Miss T., being slightly savage, bade several of the boys who were convicted of [sa] writing instead of studying their grammar, write out the whole exercise. Upon which Audway disputed. I forget in what words, but ended by flatly saying that he would not write the exercise if she told him to. She told him very quietly and sternly that he should not recite with the class till he[r] had apologised for that remark in some way, and bade him go into the other room to Mr. Horne. He sat still with an insolent smile on his face. She told him that his parents were at liberty to take him away from school whenever they pleased, but while he was scholar, and she was teacher, he should obey; she had never yeiled to a scholar yet, and did not mean to now; she would bid him once more to go into the other room before she sent for Mr. H. to take him. He should not sit in her presence till the matter was settled. He sat a minute or two, then rose and sauntered out. The girls who sat nearer the front than I all say she was perfectly white, and her hands shook; but her voice and manner were perfectly stern and decided all the while. When Audway was out and the recitation was going on she bade Cook stand on the platform; he said he had not been doing anything; she repeated her [*H. broke off Carrie L. in the middle of a verse and gave it to Charley Alexander.*] [*the Widow of Glencoe again, and I got horribly nervous.*] 46 etc. in my composition (I'm sure his punctuation isn't right; it may be grammar. but its not reason or common sense either) and I copied it. Took it to school and was bribed by the Serpent by a piece of candy to let her see it. Agnes Reed and I exchanged and read, and those who had seen mine said I was sure to get the prize and quite raised my spirits. Agnes' was moral, and seemed to relate chiefly to the creation of the world As I squabbled with Mary Fifield to see hers C. B. who sat by, watching said admonishingly "Alice! that's disorderly!' or to that effect. I then insulted him; for which my conscience pricks me a little, as it was needless; but his patronizing tone aggravated me awfully, and I was flustered. I told him it was none of his affair, and retired to my seat. Pinned another note to M. F.'s cap. Oh, wasn't she furious when she came down? At recess there was snowballing. The boys formed a line and flung balls. One hit Jenny Reeds mouth and she went in crying. I felt like going and expressing my opinion of them to their faces. We got a lecture after [school] recess from Mr. H. on snowballs. Went in to convoy out Phebe, and found she had appointed to meet me at the 5.5 train; got Our Mutual Friend, 1 vol. from the Atheneum, and Estelle Russel from the Public. Read in the station till Phebe47 left; then thought of how lonely I should be and came back and cried, much to Annie's distress. Mary aggravated me by inquiries and I fled, and sobbed on the back stairs till Annie begged me down and promised to stay a long time yet; and between her and Mama I was comforted and went to bed with Phebe. March 15 Friday. It came, after nearly six months waiting. I don't care much for what happened in the first part of the day; C. B. sat by me for drawing, and I read Estelle Russel, and Annie and John got up a fight; that was all, I believe. Mama and Papa came, bringing me one letter. I looked at it once; it was a foreign letter; I looked twice; not from Kitty. I knew then, I took it very [page cut off] 48 marble store and told to choose. I chose, and Papa and Mama chose; and we went home. The mantels [*Buy mantles fr the renovated house* ] are arranged so as to make passages, through which you walk, looking at your leisure. I got a cinder in my eye, but it came out. We brought home an Illustrated London news. sent me by Kitty, and a beautiful tea rose bud. Mama lectured me so about having made Annie promise to stay that I felt very uncomfortable, and offered to excuse her from her promise, but she does not seem to want to go. Papa went down to confab with that detestable old Gosse, who wants to cheat him about the horse, and I read Austin Elliot in the evening. March 17th. [page cut off]49 had bidden her tell me she would fix me the next time she saw me. C. Bradley spoke to me for the second time, and not so very uncivilly this time. He looked round at me when he came to see what time it was, and said "Six." Annie left for her two weeks in Boston, amid howls from me and lamentations from Mary. Mama has heard from Mrs. Shoffard asking her if she can find him Harry a place in the country, and I have hopes of getting him with us. Papa left for Santo Domingo. I kissed and hugged [*Henry B B gone to Santo Domingo*] his dear ceanglas' and he is gone. Went over to Mrs. Buckley's, to go with her for milk, taking the high places and the glory of the Lord on the way. There was a splendid wind which I enjoyed going, but we had to wait a good while in a cold barn and I got thoughroughly chilled before the boy came and said he could not spare any extra milk. I reproved some uproarious little boys for tormenting the cows, and went home by way of the moon and the wind and the elms, and what had been the glory of the Lord. Began to set the library right, and read a little in Real Folks. March 20th Wednesday. A strange and wonderful day; a mixture of clouds, sunshine, cold, and a wind that made the elms bend and crack, roared around the schoolhouse, made us all wild at recess, and blew me home after school in a [while] wild whirl of skirts, coat, cloud, hair, hat and dust. Made tart crusts. Emma arrived under convoy of Mama, and was fed and seen to. She immediately set to work clipping slips for the Journal like a born editor. 50 March 21st Thursday. Ran at recess in the wind and cold, and in the afternoon made apple pies, Emma and I being alone in the house. I spilt one on the floor, had to pull up the crusts to put in the water and sugar, and got rather more than double the amount of crust I needed; but Emma came to the rescue, and we made the surplus into tart crusts and dumplings. Did up the supper dishes with Mary and horrified her greatly by accounts of my toe paring exploits and other matters. March 22nd Friday. Drawing, and a long lecture from Mr. Horne on the framework of compositions on Kindness to Animals. Went up to the house with Emma and inspected it, and then went over with her across Neponset Bridge. I am worried as to what piece I shall speak. I like "Mary, call the cattle home," but it hardly seems the thing to speak another drowning piece so soon. Comboose it all! Made oceans of gingersnaps. Mama brought home Mrs. Campbell, and I ate a second supper with them, and did up the two sets of dishes with Mary. [*Mrs. Campbell visits Blackwell*] March 23rd Saturday. Studying spelling with Fanny Benedict C.B. and Sharpe made such a noise that I asked them to be quieter, but they didn't. As we had Geography instead of grammar I could not recite. At noon when I came down to my place, Sadie stood talking with Charley Bradley. I felt almost as if the times of Eldorado were come again. She went upstairs and said as she passed me "I'm quite a stranger here, I suppose?" and smileddown at me again as she past up. Truly the times of Eldorado are come again! Sadie, whom I thought sick in bed, up and out! Her little sister with roses in her bonnet drives up of a morning in solitary state, with the big carriage and 'fiery steed' and pretty little spotted dog. The snow came down thick and fast, while I read Zaidee, and wrote a little more on that idiotic story of mine. Mama and Emma came home snowy, and Mary and I did the dishes of couse. March 24th Sunday. Wrote to Florence and Miss Andrews, and did several little jobs. As I sat by the stove reading Our Mutual Friend Mary moved the kettle and some of the water was dashed upon my foot. I hopped up squealing. and pulled off my stocking. My foot was pretty well scalded where the water touched it, and gave me discomfort, though I kept on cold water, and hopped around like 'my son John' with one shoe off and one shoe on, sympathizing most heartily with the devil, being in his predicament of not having both feet alike. Mama put on Arnica at last, which about stopped it, though it hurt in bed. Took the honey from the box, and did sundry chores. Washed, March 25th Monday.The names of the prize scholars were read by Mr. H. that is the numbers were; and while he kept us on broken bottles during his preliminary remarks, I could hear my heart throbbing in my head. My number was among the rest. He said he did not know which had gotten the $5.00 but was told it lay between two, and that six of the Committe had been unable to choose between them. Several scholars expressed their feeling that it was unfair to have so much difference between the two prizes. I saw Sadie, who had come up with the fiery steed for her little sister and Hattie Burditt, and I told her I had got a prize, and she answered that she knew it. I came in the afternoon, and was examined in Grammar, and saw Sadie again. She called to me and asked what prize I thought I had got; and I called back that I was sure I didn't know. And I proceeded home adoring her. March 26th Tuesday. Had the usual school in the morning, but stayed away in the afternoon, as I don't take History any more. Went into Boston and renewed Zaidee, changed Estelle Russel for Phantastes[m] and got Condensed Novels from the Atheneum. March 27th Wednesday. I am in a very happy frame of mind. I have had a compliment. But I shall keep it till I come to it. I woke up and found it snowing hard, so I went to school all done up, and found to my horror that we were to be examined in spelling. While the others corrected their History I had time for study, so did not fail. Managed with much maneuvering to get my leggings on after school, by making two trips behind the stairs, one to pull up and one to pin. After dinner all was excitement to get me dressed. Emma was executioner, and torments I underwent are indescribable; but the effect was universally pronounced53 extremely elegant. I was dreadfully hurried by the announcement that the carriage, which Mama had ordered to be sent for us, was at the door. Down we hurried, and were driven to the Neponset, Emma putting the finishing touches to my costume in the coach. It had cleared up, but was very muddy. In the depot Emma kept me with my back to the fire to dry the places where she had sponged my sack, but the train came before it was done. At H.S. Miss T. and the girls saw me through the window, and came in, expressing great delight at finding me, as they had feared I was not coming. Fanny Benedict sat by me, Carrie Horne behind me, and Miss Tolman on the seat in front. Emma discreetly sat on another seat, and we had a fine time chattering and talking. Miss T. seeing how splendiferously I was got up said she guessed I knew how to train, only I kept my training for proper times; said she liked to see me train with Mary Fifield, and wished she was with us that she might see us train. [She said she] Under the influence of friendship and dissipation I shamelessly confessed my note passing performances, and then said I was sorry I had told, for now she would keep more of an eye on me; but she said Oh, no she wouldn't! that wouldn't be fair you know; but I musn't send them, in a by no means severe tone. C.B. and Etty Sharp were in another car, but walked up to the Music Hall a little before us, and Mr. H. superintended. The hall was packed and we had to wait some time before we got a bad seat in the prize girls gallery. There were not nearly so many prize 54 boys and they had plenty of room. Some stupid speeches were made during which I noticed, when I attended at all, that whenever any one addressed the boys he was sure to look at and gesticulate at the girls. I saw Mama in the audience, but could not make her look at me, and also Mr. Garrison. Robert Collyer spoke, and two compositions were read. The Governor was on the platform too. We strained our ears, being far from the platform, for the name of our school, and at last it was read, and ours after it, and down we went, I leading the procession. I waited behind some girls whose turn I thought came before ours, till I heard him say "Any more of the Harris School?" and I presented myself as the Harris School, gave my name, and got a small roll, distinguished from those of the second prize by being tied with blue instead of red ribbon. It contained a couple of papers, one entitling me to the paper for a year, and other stating that I had got the first prize, but no money. I then left, as did all of us, and leaving Fanny Benedict with her mother went out home with Carrie Horne. On the platform we were met by a plump, very pleasantlooking lady who spoke to me as knowing my name, and said she had been quite anxious to see me, she had heard so much about me from "her Charley," and as I stared, said "her Charley Bradley," so I found it was his [br] mother. But the idea of his having talked about me! I never supposed he took any notice of me at all. But she went on to tell how he had55 not wanted to try for the prize against me, as I always had the best compositions in school, and it was no use, but that when he found how nearly he had got it, having tried to please her, he wished he had tried a little harder. She also said something nice about talent running in the family, and told how when some of the little boys had been saying it was no use for them to try, as I had such a clever mother to do my composition for me, or to that effect Charley had come down upon them, I don't remember exactly in what words, and told them " I wasn't that kind of a girl." I said I was very much obliged to him, and we talked a little, and she said she was keeping us in the cold, and I went home with Carrie in a state of utter bliss, changed my dress and set the table. It was pleasant to be considered "not that sort of girl" and nice also to have him stand up for me. I always thought he was less bad than the other wretches. March 28th Thursday. Went to school and took the Arithmetic examination perfectly. Was sent into Boston by Mama to take the inside of the Journal to Mr. Upham, [*Mr Upham printed W-Journal*] which I did, finding my way with much nervousness up the seven flights of stairs. I went in with Carrie Littlefield, who went with me to the Public, where I got Salem Chapel and to the head of Bromfield St. Afterward I got Leighton Court and Christie Johnstone at the Atheneum, and went up and looked at the pictures. There is one of Fanny Kimble, a pretty young girl in an old fashed white dress and hair done up queerly standing 56 by her Aunt Mrs. Liddons, who sits with a book looking before her, but Fanny has such a look of pettishness, vexation, amusement, appeal and withal seems just ready to laugh. Mary met me with the announcement that Charley Bradley is Judge Ames' nephew, which astounding fact she had just discovered that day. I then proceeded up to the house, where Mama and Emma were in a towering rage, [with] for I had just read a letter from my Betrothed, in which she expressed most outrageous and traitorous sentiment against the U. S. A. shamelessly arraying herself on the side of England, at which my feelings were naturally greatly outraged. Emma said she had something to show me, and told me to look through a certain door. I did and saw nothing but a tall man whom I took for a workman till looking at his face I saw it was Charley Blair. Of course I did an unfinished swoon and hysterics, and then we escorted him to the little house. I spent the spare part of the evening in filling a large letter sheet with reproaches to Kitty. I made it worse than anything I ever sent to Mary Fifield. and altered ferocious quotations from Whittier for her benefit. March 29th Friday. Being Good Friday, was a holiday, of which pleasing fact I assured myself by going down Mill St., catching Mr. H. coming out, and asking. Emma Left, escorting Charley Blair to show him the sites of Boston, and I did the slops and rubbed through the day somehow. Mama stayed in Boston over night to take a Turk-57 ish Bath and we three unprotected females were left alone. When we went to bed (after an evening of sparring two against one) our preparations against burglars were many and various, at least mine were. I took up with the tongs, put them with the dust brush by my bed, and kept large pin and colognebottle on the mantle. Emma and Mary slept in Mama's room, and I believe their preparations consisted of a bay rum bottle and a toothbrush, the former to break over the intruder's head, and the latter to fling through the register as a signal to me. I meant to come into their room in my nightgown to explain my preparations and have a friendly chat; but their guilty consciences had made them suspicious even of me, for I found the door locked, and Emma harangued me at endless length while I stood out in the cold, trying to make me promise not to injure those within, which of course I disdained to do, till I folded my tent like an arab and as silently stole away, leaving her haranguing the empty air, and got into bed in wrath. When she discovered my departure she proceeded with her harangue through the register, but after a few short and sharp explosions and a biting sarcasm or two I subsided into sulks, [and] silence and bedclothes. March 30th Saturday. My head felt as though I had been hung up by the heels and all the blood had run into it, filling it almost to bursting, but did not ache. Emma prescribed a walk, and we found our way to the chocolate factory. [* Walter Baker Choc. Factory Milton Lower Mills*] We inspected the works, and every one was very polite to us an showed us and explained to us the whole process. 58 The chocolate beans- cocoa -nuts as they are called- are put through a mill and broken fine, and warmed by steam so that they melt and run down little troughs into great kettles, where the stuff is boiled; then run into tin moulds and cooled, taken out and put through what seemed to me the oddest process of all; a brushing over with molasses and water, to make them shiny; dried, and put up in various sorts of packages. One girl, looking just like Bell Rogers, stencilled the names on boxes; another put up broma in silver paper packages; one [set] tied up packages, one pasted labels on them, Among other things we saw what I took to be the pet of the factory, a white Spitzbergen dog with large dark [eyes] round eyes and a sharp slender nose. He was put through his various tricks for our benefit, and every one seemed fond of him. A polite Irishman with a black beard showed us the down stair processes, and gave us a lot of small thin cakes of sweet chocolate, and some pieces of chocolate or cocoa butter, said to be good for burns and sores of all sorts; ( I put some onto my foot when I got home) and we then departed. Hardly read at all, but made the greater part of a chemise, and felt my head stuffed after each meal. I meant to go minus my supper, but Mama who got home very late, advised me to have some, and I did. Mama had had a Turkish bath, and been rubbed down with shavings. [Lucy Stone Turkish Bath] March 31st Sunday. A dreary storm and the trees all sheathed in ice. My stomach ached, as it has done more or less for a fortnight. Wrote to Florence and59 Kitty, the latter an affectionate letter to be sent by one mail, while the thunderbolt of war goes by the next. Washed. April 1st Monday. Miserable with my stomach. Made applesauce on my own hook, read, and was given a spoonful of nasty, nasty, rheubarb. Mrs. Moore and Nina called in the evening while Mama and I were making out a list of the flowers we want from Vick. April 2nd Tuesday. A bright warm spring day. Went up to the house with Mama, and made apple jelly. Annie got home, not well, and set to work upon the washing. Emma says she is not so beautiful as she expected from my description; I think she will change her mind. Mary and Emma went to hear a lady named Rosa D'Erina sing last night, and are full of it. Mary goes tomorrow, for which I am very sorry. April 3rd Wednesday. I have seen her through the window again. Annie and I went down for a cabbage in the evening, and went round that way on purpose. We saw her both going and coming, and it was the only successful part of the performances, for the cabbage was not to be had, and the basket Mama had left was lent by the storekeeper; but those glimpses made up for it all. She stood by the table with the lamp on it - my beautiful Sadie - and we passed and repassed several times. On the way home, I astounded Annie by my proceedings on the way home, which were truly vossa, I being intoxicated with love, and doing all sorts of 60 idiotic things without rhyme or reason, such as tumbling against trees, telegraph poles and fences, and glaring at the sky, which was overclouding blackly from the west. In the afternoon, I actually called on Carrie Littlefield; she seemed glad to see me, but was sleepy, having been up till one at night cutting up. I only stayed about 5 minutes and went on down to Parks, where I bought bread, and then home, feeling acutely that my garters showed. Proned a little, and sustained various sharp tongue skirmishes with Mary and Emma. They wrote in my album. April 4th Thursday.. Mary's last day here. I had made mince pies under Emma's superintendence, which turned out very well, and read Zaidee, and then Annie and I went down to the station to see Mary off. She was to have gone from Neponset, but that idiotic ticket master said the trunk could only be checked from Boston, so she bade us goodbye, and went in on the next train, to start on the regular steamboat train. We saw her through the window as the car went off, and that was the last of our English violet. Mama was greatly disgusted when she head of the train performance, [?]. People called all the evening, and Mr. Blanchard ta-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a ayed. Tried again to fix The Rhyme of Duchess May, got it down to 25 verses, and read it to Emma. April 5th Friday. Made a little more apple jelly, and wrote some poetry to Annie, to her great edification.61 I have behaved foolishly; I wont say made an absolute fool of myself this time; but I ought not to have lost my temper. Yet he did rile me so, I couldn't help answering back. It always does rile me to have people talk about Mama that way. I went up the hill with Annie to put the litter in the back chamber into the closet. The house is being plastered, and a man was at work at it in the room, and he seemed disposed to talk. He began by asking if we were either of us in the fire, and Annie said we both were; which assertion I corrected. She said I was Mr. Blackwell's daughter. He said we must have been frightened, and I said it was enough to frighten us. [*Defense of Lucy Stone + woman's Rts.*] Then he asked what the name of the woman who owned that property was; Miss Jones, he thought. Annie said "Mrs. Stone", and he said "Oh! yes; he saw her in Boston and thought he knew her; she advocated Womans Rights, he believed" in a sneering - no, not exactly a sneering, a slighting, a Prodsnappian sort of way that rather aggravated me, and I answered "Yes, she does," in a loftily decided manner meant to stop impudence; and that was the end of the conversation for a few minutes. When we had got all the papers and pamphlets into the closet I lifted one of a bunch of iron weights and asked Annie if it belonged to us and ought to go in, and he spoke up and said we could leave them there; nobody would trouble themselves to steal 62 them; that if everything that was there was offered him as a gift he wouldn't take it. I said something about it's being worth selling for waste paper but he went on without heeding me, saying "There's not a thing I've seen there yet that's fit for a man to read, much less for a woman." That riled me worse, and I said that what was fit for a man to read was fit for a woman. He said "Oh, well, there were some little bits a man might read which a woman wouldn't like to," or to that effect. I was thoroughly riled by that time, what with his abuse of Mama's books and all, and only repeated my first remark; for a man ought to be ashamed to read things that a woman would would be to. Then, our work being done, we left, but I couldn't help saying as a parting shot they weren't meant for him to read anyway; which was the only really rude thing I said, though Annie gave it to me coming down the hill. Afterwards Emma gave it to me in a milder manner, and between them I got down into the valley of humiliation. And then Emma undressed in my room, we having but one light between us, and as we sat before the register gave me a lecture on phisiology and anatomy, illustrating her remarks on my corporeal frame and trying to warm her cold hands on me. To which I very naturally objected. Whereby she kept me from my natural rest, and I was very sleepy the next morning.63 April 6th Saturday. Emma and I were sent into Boston soon after dinner. I went to the Public and got Jane Eyre,and then joined Emma at the office. Then I went to the Atheneum, but could not get anything I wanted, so took David Elginbrod (in 3 vols. to my huge disgust) and Magdalen Hepburn. Stayed in the office while Emma went out, and kept an eye on an old gentleman to see that he did not steal. Got Hereward from the Public, and came out home. Mrs. Mudie called in the evening. April 7th Sunday. Went into Boston with Emma to church. We tried one church, and it was too full. We then tried the steepleless building on Tremont St. [*St. Paul's*] from which they tore down the pigeon's nests. It proved to be an Episcopal church, and we witnessed a lot of confirmations by a Bishop, who warned his proteges against progressive ideas in religion. Why do the Episcopalians make their ministers look so absurd by putting them into nightgowns with huge frills and flapping white wings, I wonder? I joined in the ceremonies, I flatter myself, with great propriety and devoutness, especially the 'miserable sinner' part. After that we went to the Journal Office and ate the lunch that had been brought in my satchel. We then went [*Horse cars*] to the horsecar station and out home. The cars were soon crowded, and the air very bad, but the end of our journey was reached at length; the end of our journey but not of our troubles. 64 For as we walked up Emma and I were conversing about a man whose teeth stuck out; and as we were in the thick of description he passed us! He must have heard; and to make matters worse, I much against my will exploded in laughter, and Emma herself felt upset. Chicken for supper, and an awful head ache after it, so that the evening was spent in attempts at relieving by Emma and Mama, which partially succeeded. April 8th Monday Wrote in trembling and tribulation my note to Charley Bradley, and took it, with the money pinned inside it, to school with me. He came into the dressing room as I combed my hair out, and gave it to him, telling him that there was something belonging to him. He received it with a bow, a smile, and a thank you, and took it into the schoolroom with him. Just before school, as I chattered with Hattie Mann, carefully abstaining from looking toward him, he came along, red and grinning, put it on my desk, and scooted away again saying "Oh, he couldn't! He couldn't!" I was No. 4, whereby sundry noses were put out of joint. The owners thereof being lower; among said noes was the Serpents, who openly told one she thought it unfair. It seems queer to be out of the seat I have had for 5 months, but happily there are no boys near me. At noon as I I passed C.B. I said "I wish ye would, Charley," but, he said "Oh, he couldn't; It wouldn't be fair." Went to N. Quincy looked at the dark water ebbing through the piles and came back. Emma65 and I went over to see the puppies, which were very readily shown to us by a rosy faced girl who soothed the mother dog when she wanted to fly at us, and gave us each one to hold. They were pretty and silky, but they squealed distressingly, and the place smelt so utterly horrible that I was glad to come away. Darned stockings. April 9th Tuesday. School. One session. Left at 12.5. Dampness, mist and slush. Went down for meat with Annie, came across Emma, and all went home together. I carrying the baggage, a heavy satchel, and refusing to surrender it. Emma started on the run, and I thinking she wanted to make me repent carrying the bag, though it afterward came out that she was in fear of pokes from my umbrella, gave chase, and reached home nearly dead, my underclothes splashed with mud nearly to my waist. April 10th Wednesday. At recess Sadie and the rest of us played catch, and she and Hattie Burdett planned a base ball party, which Sadie asked me to join, saying she was sure I should make a good player. Of course I said yes. Finally copied the Molly thing, had it inspected by Emma, and gave it in charge to her to hand in to Our Young Folks. Started for Soda and Letters, but as I passed Carrie Littlefields, an angel flew out upon me and secured me for base ball. Of course I couldn't resist, even after I got into mud over my ankles, while we waited for the other girls, and Sadie was very impatient. We went to the school yard, and it being found that I was absolutely 66 and utterly ignorant of the game, I stood on one side and watched Sadie. Oh, so beautiful and graceful as she was, with her cheeks flushed and her hair wild in the wind! She seemed to me the North Wind herself, and I stood there absurdly catching cold and feasting my eyes on her every motion. At last I tore myself away and came home. April 11th Thursday. Hostilities with M.F. in the morning. As we stood by the wastebasket I shamelessly observed that I was sorry she sat so far off, as I could pass her no more notes; she pretended to be shocked and said "Why Miss Tolman, this morning she called me an insane lobster!" "Well, you call me a rhinosceros," said I; and we fell to it under the very nose of Miss T. who stood by and laughed. In the afternoon Emma and I had our pictures taken. We went into Boston together and selected a gallery after several experiments. I didn't like the place; saw something dreadful on the stairs, and everyone had a villainous countenance except the red-haired girl behind the counter; but we got our pictures in a hurry, as the man said the plates were drying; and such pictures! Emma was simpering and idiotic; I stern, gloomy, defiant and ferocious; decidedly bulldog like, and oh so savage and piratical! We took the whole lot and came out home. A half letter from Kitty minus the beginning, and had a very nice whole one from Aunt Elizabeth. Pamela and stockings in the evening.April 12th (67) Friday. Walked over the Milton Lower Mills, Emma accompanying me as far as the horsecar track, and then going back. I stood on the bridge and watched the graceful undulating slides of the mighty sweeps of brown water going smoothly [of] over hummock after hummock and then breaking up into roaring foam; and I listened to the deep voice of the water, and enjoyed it, and went home. Was tired, had a swelled throat and was dosed with various preparations. [Margin: Showed a most atrocious note of M.F.'s to Miss T. who laughed herself nearly to death.] April 13th Saturday. Such a time with a spelling match! I was given exchequer, and I spelled it right, but scholars would keep popping up and spelling it wrong by way of correction. As I went upon my winding way home, through the school yard [so] Sadie flew after me, overtook and grabbed me, and walked with me as far as our ways lay together and making me the more blissful as she had very little to do with me for some time, and sits in quite another part of the room. Walked up to Milton Lower Mills. April 14th Sunday. Along in the house with Mama. Tied up papers for Mama, and felt miserably unwell. Went up to the house with Mama, and tried to decide on my room, but couldn't and can't. The big upstairs room is beautiful, but right under the roof, else I should surely take it. Mr. and Mrs. Carter came up the hill in their carriage, and said our front door was open, and I rushed down the hill and shut it. Read a little in Jane Eyre. Charlotte Bronte certainly 68 has the knack of inventing the most disagreeable male characters I ever knew of. Both Mr. Rochester and Mr. St. John are detestable; but of the two I greatly prefer St. John. He twisted his feelings to agree with his religion, and Mr. Rochester twisted his religion to agree with his feelings, and both of them overdid it. April 15th Monday. I am getting demoralized fast. It's all that villainous Mary Fifield's fault; she is making me disgrace myself and destroying my reputation. Today we exchanged epithets during the singing of the Festival Music, and fell to fisticuffs in the hall in plain view of C.B. Went into Boston to be vaccinated. Got Rosetti's poems at Boston, but it was Christine R.'s, not Dante Gabriel's. However, they are nice. Mama took [Me] me to Dr. Lucy Sewall, with whom I fell in love at first sight. She is something like Mama; even softer and rosier and chubbier, and vaccinated me so gently that it was really quite pleasant. We took out the housekeeper, Miss Tucker, and the chore boy, Frank Fellows. He is quite young, she quite old, and both very ugly. His front teeth are broken and she has a great scar on her chin, and seems timid and talkative. Mama went away again to lecture, and I read most of time. April 16th Tuesday. Suffered untold miseries from the presence of a strange lady and boy. Snapped when my dress was tried on. Blacked my satchel and washed69 my hairbrush. Annie cross and glum. A sunbeam at school. Sadie spoke to me in the hall when I was going out alone, there being one session. She cutseyed, and said "The Dame made a curtsey, the dog made a bow," and assigned me the part of dog. I wish almost that I were the little dog of the Wilson family. April 17th Wednesday. Sent M. Fifield my first good note, addressed "Stuffing for the fatted calf, Mary Fifield." I also gave her some uncomplimentary verses [for] which she threatened to show Miss. T. and I asked her to lend me them for a minute and promised to give them back; and I did - the pieces. She called me bad names and left. Made some apple sauce and read Hereward The Wake. Miss Tucker knew the Wilsons, and has told me of them to my great edification. Had a sore spot in my chest all day, and when Mama came home at night she put on a mustard poultice and a wet cloth. Took Miss Tucker up to the house and showed her over it. April 18th Thursday. Challenged Mary Fifield to a duel, which challenge she accepted. Much tossing of heads and turning up of noses. Notes all given through third parties, as it is considered the thing to send "a friend" with your cartels. Divers skirmishes. Went up the house with Miss Tucker and showed her the garden. Mama away. April 19 Friday. More letters relative to our duel 70 and a mutual showing of them to Miss. T. In the afternoon went into Boston. On the way to the station met Charley Bradley and another boy. C.B. nodded and smiled, and I nodded and tried to grin amiably. Got Constance Lyndsay and Lucy's two lives from the Public, and Midsummer Eve from the Atheneum. Looked at the Arundel Saints in the picture gallery. I dont like them at all. April 20 Saturday. The day fixed for my duel with Mary Fifield. I am awaiting her arrival. We had a time at school. We exchanged several abusive notes, but at recess she gave me one such outrageous one that I bolted upstairs to answer it, and when Miss. T. came in showed it to her, and protested I would have Marys blood. She laughed and read it, settling her face now and then, to scold some entering boy. Near the end of school [I as] I twitched my nose at M. F. and before I could get it smoothed out Miss T. looked and saw me. Of course she understood it, and she and I both had quite a time to keep down her laughter. I waited in state with my weapons around me, but Mary Fifield did not come. April 21 Sunday. Papa got back from San Domingo, and brought with him a large pineapple, [*HBB home from Santo Domingo*] some guavas, and an enormous bunch of banana's, besides two pods of cocoa nut beans. Of [you] course he was rapturously received by Mama and me, fed and washed,71 and then taken up and showed the house. He brought home a crop of boils, which make him quite lame. Wrote to Mary Hooper and made some apple jelly. Antiquary in the evening. Washed. April 22 Monday. Took to school a pod of the cocoa bean to exhibit and an ivory paper knife to slay Mary Fifield for not keep her appointment. The pod was duly shown to Addie Callendar, by her to C. Bradley and my Me to Miss T. and some of the other girls. The knife I broke against Mary Fifields bony ribs in vengeance for have falsely filled my inkbottle with blotting paper and stuck my best pencils into it during singing time, while she had my seat; a revenge alike unworthy of a Christian and a gentleman; as I told her. Our duel is definitely determined upon for tomorrow afternoon, Papa continued the Antiquary. April 23d Tuesday. The duel came off. I was kept in 5th for sums, so did not see Mary after school. Went home and prepared my weapons, which were as follows: the horsewhip, the tongs, the carving knife, and a pail of water containing a syringe, which last was my chief reliance. Also, I provided a winding sheet for her and a waterproof to serve as Martial Cloak and armor. She rang the bell soon after 4 and greeted me with laughter and bad names. I brought her in, showed her to Mama and showed her the array of weapons, which almost sent her into convulsions. 72 I offered her a waterproof, but she declined it, not having seen the contents of the pail, and we went up the hill loaded with weapons, and probably looking like a pair of cheerful lunatics. She was charmed with the house, and it was some time before I could bring her back to the duel. She pretended to have forgotten her pitchfork, so I lent her the carving knife, measured 12 paces, and squirted water at her till she cried for Quarter, though she did not seemed to mind the wet much except when it endangered her hat. I wrapped her winding sheet around her, was stabbed to the heart with the handle of the carving knife, and proceeded to show her over the house and describe the fire. She was greatly pleased by a large mass of soft powdered and wet plaster and kneaded it with the carving knife till I made her leave. We came down and presented ourselves as spooks, ate maple sugar, discussed book, recounted scrapes, and enjoyed ourselves. I showed her the bananas,lent her Mopsa and walked home with her. She tried to get me in to tea, but of course I wouldn't. April 14th Wednesday. My "Sister Spirit" greeted me with a shake, and has been calling me spiritual names ever since In the afternoon took a long walk over beyond the Old Quincy Place, and brought home a lot of willow catkins and birch tassels. Got a letter from Kitty, and several from the Hooper lot. April 25th Thursday. Went in to the city in the afternoon73 had a hat bought, and went out loaded with books. April 26th Friday. Awfully and outrageously hot. I could have Oh'ed for a lodge in a garden of cucumbers, for the first time this years I went up with Miss Tucker to the house, did a wee bit of gardening and dug up part of the patch for my beans. There was a big wind toward evening, whirling weird white clouds of dust along the road, and Annie and I went out and got blown. April 27th Saturday. School of course. Got there very early, and had to wait for the door to be opened. As I was in the room alone Sadie came in, came over and spoke to me, and stood over me and gave me my definitions, making me supremely blest. Ball at recess, and Sadie walked for home with me as our ways lay together Dug and planted beans with Miss Tucker, and absurdly put all the speckled beans to soak. April 28th Sunday. Wrote to Florence and Aunt Nettie, and washed just before supper. Went up with Miss Tucker to plant the beans I so assininely put to soak; such of them, that is, as were [not] much swelled. But we found that the way of transgressors is hard. Mrs. Mansfield came, and people passed, and we had to keep hiding the shovel as best we could, and I smiling innocently, but at last we got it done. Went up to watch the milton woods burn. April 19 Monday. A long singing lesson, and short arithmetic. Eddy Jenkins is really getting troublesome; speaks to me in the yard, tries to monopolize my attention 74 before school, and will talk to me, and screw himself round and watch my proceedings with an idiotic grin on his smooth pink face, till I long to wring neck. I detest that boy! Planted beans and potatoes. The notice of declamations was given out. My chickens are hatching. April 30th Tuesday. My first instalment of chickens - 7 - were cooped by the kitchen door, and Toby was duly boxed and scolded to make him. keep away from them. Sadie and I were on the same side in baseball at recess, so I had the advantage of her cries, admonitions and warnings. She always gets animated and excited over the game. Went to to Fields Corner with Miss Tucker and did some errands. I charged Papa yesterday with the buying of Real Folks, and he brought it home. Went up to the house. May 1st Wednesday. The 17th anniversary of Papa's and Mama's wedding day. Two years ago today that I began to keep a diary. Well! I skipped down stairs in my nightgown, got Real Folks, and presented it with the proper congratulations. I heard them laughing over the inscription (To my Revered Parents) followed by an apology for my lack of reverence. We were examined in Arithmetic, and mine was 100. Read Real Folks. Desire Ledwith seems to me like myself something like. I have got into a very bad habit of trying to sift myself out, and find what there is of me; and it is unpleasantly plain that there is a great deal of75 [*ASB self analysis*] selfishness; and awful deal; also laziness. It's got to be punched out of me; and I've got to punch it! Mary Fifield called by appointment. We ate 4 bananas and drank two bottles of cider. I walked with her to Emma Adams', where I left her. On the way she unfolded to me her views of the 'the pearly car,' and awful views they were. Mama told me a Ledger had come, that she had left it behind, and never meant to let any other come into the house. I said I should get it the next day when I went in; she said it had gone to be cut into wrappers. Papa said that was adding insult, as indeed it was; why need she have told me? She could have kept to back and said nothing. To stop me off right in the midst of Mark Heber's Luck! I straightway went off to bed mad, with tears in my eyes. May 2nd Thursday. Rainy. Grammar examination. 100 much to my surprise. Had calculated to have 88, reckoning up my uncertainties. Went in the afternoon, [?] [?] May 4th 76 Saturday. Spelling. Mine all right. At recess as they chose sides Sadie wanted Mary [Fifield][?] to choose me on their side, but she didn't till the very last one. A spelling match. I was a chooser and chase first Sadie, then Mary Fifield. Sadie whispered me who to choose, and I followed her advice implicitly. She went to and fro at least half a dozen times, for whichever side had a choice chose her. My side was beaten by one; a nearer match, Mr. Horne said than there had ever been before. Mary F. brought me Tanglewood Tales, which I read during the pauses of study. Harry Spofford is to be here soon, and I am very glad. Dug up some horseradish from up by the rainwater tub, taking the tops, with a small bit of root to each; dug up with a small patch of ground by the apple trees over the foot of the hill, and planted between 50 and 60 roots in rows of six roots apiece. Ironed out my sash, and finished the red and black letter holder. May 5th Sunday. There were 9 chickens at first, yesterday [?]77 he supposes that creation is a sort of machine, set going once for all; and Mary Hooper says that the little wrongs -- trials of young chickens and such -- are for the good of the whole. But -- the God I should like to believe in wouldn't squash individuals for the good of the whole if it wasn't for their good as well. And being a Blackwell, I keep all the worry to myself; there really seems no one to tell -- who I could tell. Miss Andrews is almost too good and perfect, but I fancy if Alice Carle were here, I could put my head down in her lap, and sob the whole of it to her. After writing that last occurred a special Providence. Mr. Blanchard called, and told us that Robert Collyer was to speak in the little church by the school house; so I hurried up the dishes and went with my parents. We got a seat near the pulpit. The pew behind us was filled with our girls; The serpent, Nettie Wharne, Carrie Thayer, Hattie and Lulu Mann and my enemy Mary Fifield, with whom I instantly began to cut up. She passed me an oyster cracker on her fan, and I ate it; we talked, laughed and called one another names till Mama stopped it. At last Mr. Collier began, and I didn't attend to anything else. it was wonderfully strange that he should have taken just that subject. I think God must have put it into his head; at any event it went right home to my sore place and did me good. It was the long prayer, and if he could have seen right into my mind he would have said just what he did. I actually cried a little, but it being in prayer time wasn't seen. 75 I think what comforted me as much as anything were his emphatic shalls. "The dumb shall speak, and the deaf ears shall hear." and so on. I had got what I needed before the end of the prayer. Then came the sermon; a very good one, but no especially applying to me; about the Unitarian church. The best of that part to me was the looking at him; he has such a pleasant, hearty, cheery ruddy, jolly good face, strong and pleasant at once, that it is a comfort to look at him. But his gestures were very funny. He kept suddenly lifting up his head as if he heard or smelled something, or had been spoke to while woolgathering, and he swayed from side to side, and flung his great self around in the pulpit, and was so incessantly moving that it almost made me dizzy to look at him. He seemed to have found out the secret of perpetual motion. There were 3 hyms sung for the whole congregation, and I sang too, though I could only find the words of one. When it was over, and the blessing said, the girls behind rose en masse, with exclamations of rapture. "Wasn't it splendid? Did I ever hear such a sermon? Wouldn't I like to hear him every Sunday, and three times a day?" And so on. I saw he had come down and was talking to Papa and Mama, so I went back and was introduced. He shook hands with me, and put his head down and said "Kiss me." I was taken by surprise, but gave him a real smack, in the fact of 600 people - who weren't looking at us, though. He said "Oh you little darling!" and went on talking to me folks, and I listened.79 till Mama began to take him up on the subject of Woman's Rights, and then I cleared after the girls At least, cleared hardly expresses it, for you could hardly stir in the crowed; but I overtook them at the door, and let out about the kissing to Hattie Mann. She said "Ohhh! He didn't! Might she tell?" I threatened not to leave a hair on her head if she did, and waited for my parients. Mr. Collyer had been smoking; that I am sure of; but I could just have hugged him. I love him! Mr. Carter said I had got more than my share; and I told him he was envious. Home we went, and I to bed. May 6th Monday. Had no peace of my life at school, for Hattie Mann- the perfidious creature! - let out to Mary Fifield about last night's performamances before my face and eyes. I stopped her for a minute when she had got as far as "she kissed -" and Mary instantly flew into a state of the wildest excitement, screaming "Who? Who?" "Mr. Collyer," gasped Hattie between my hands, and "They set up a yell!" Mary, of course, let out to half the school; the viper! and they were alternately crying "Oh for shame!" to me, and lamenting and, abusing him because he had not kissed them too. And I was reported to Miss T. as having "Upped and kissed the minister." Went up to the house with the great shears, and mowed part of the border with them. It began to rain, and I was driven into the summerhouse. Papa left for N.Y. May 7th Tuesday. Waited impatiently for Harry Spofford, till Mama reported that a boy was going 80 up the hill, and she thought it was Harry. Lo, according to orders, I put on my hat and started up the hill after him. He was coming down again, called out to me "Is that you?" Shook hands and kissed me, and we proceeded down the hill. He is thin, pale, black, rather ugly, astoundingly tall, and the picture of his mother. We fed him, and I went to school; played ball at recess, and came home again. After dinner Harry and I went to the station. We had to wait there a long time, and the 1:54 did not run, and we had to wait for the 2.14. He left me in Boston, and I changed books and went up to the printing office, and carried out a fearfully heavy satchel, containing 4 books, 40 papers, more or less, a bottle of yeast, and various smaller articles. I forgot to say that I showed Mr. Horne my piece, and stand committed for five pages of the Rhyme of Duchess Mary. Harry came home after supper, and was fed with Frank. May 8th Wednesday. Stewing hot, but played base ball at recess. Went up to the house and carried with me shears and seeds. Harry and I dug up the bed (I ought to put his name first as he did most of it) and I planted the seeds and finished trimming the border on one side. Stewed almost to a jelly. And I here record a shocking fact. Harry, who I always have quoted as the one exception to the rule of [tat] total boy-ine depravity, is as bad as the rest; as great a tease as Charley Blair. Annie was scared nearly out of her [sender?]. As I was81 looking out of my window I heard her shrieking to me to come down; I went, and found a little green snake that Toby had brought in sprawling on the floor, and Annie holding up her skirts in the further corner of the kitchen watching Toby poke it about. I got the broom and swept it out, refusing to kill it, to her great wrath. Afterward I was scared by thinking Toby had swallowed it alive. Before school I was writing to Florence, and was interrupted in the middle of my letter to chase the yellow cat over to Mr Putnams with a young chicken (the 5th of mine he has eaten) in his mouth. I saw him disappear under a shed with it, and proceeded to ring Mr. Putnam's bell, and tell him that if he did not keep the cat shut up we should have to kill it. May 9th Thursday. Awfully hot. Was int a state of violent perspiration nearly all day. By Hattie Mann's invitation went [out] over to her house to play croquet, meeting her at school at 4 oclock. We play 6 games; I beat in 3 and she in 3. She showed me her maltese kitten, as pretty a little creature as I ever saw, with a red ribbon around it's neck. Then she said she would walk part way home with me, instead of which she seduced me into going over to the P.O. with her. As we neared that goal of our desires Ruth Swan passed us in a carriage, and flung me a paper of gingersnaps, saying there was something to feed my wrath upon; and I fed Hattie on them. There were no letters, but we got ourselves weight; Hattie weighed 104 82 pounds and I a little over 109. It was 106 last time I was weighed. As I cam home Mary Fifield passed me in a carriage, poked her head out of the door and cried, "Sail! Sail on!" Read one of Robert Collyer's sermons in the evening. I like them, and sometimes can fancy I hear him thundering away in the pulpit. I would walk six miles and back again every Sunday to hear that man preach? A Ledger was charitably sent out by Mrs. Hinckley, but I heroically refrained from reading anything but Mark Heber's Luck. May 10th Friday. Still very hot. No news. Grated horseradish. Tied my garter about Tobys neck as a collar, and he disappeared with it, to my dismay, but brought it back. No letters Great wrath of Harry. Annie and myself on that account. Harry slandered my Betrothed, thereby mortally insulting me. Young Villain! May 11th Saturday. A vigorous fight at recess. Hattie Mann enlisted Mary Fifield, and both set upon me at once, telling me my hour was come. I was aggravated by their coming two at once, and also by Hattie's having boxed my ears from behind, and got really angry when my hair was violently pulled. So I gave Mary a kick on the shin, which made her roar, and put her 'hors du combat' for a while, and scratched Hattie's wrists viciously. Having had a violent struggle, the fight at last ceased. I was ashamed of myself for losing my temper, [bu] though it was very aggravating. I thought Mary was not sufficiently paid for her share in the aforesaid assault and battery by the kick, so I invited her over for83 the afternoon and prepared a salted banana for her. She not being here by half past three, I decided that she was not coming, so put on my old dress and went up the hill, to help Mama and the boys prune and fix up. I cleared out the dead part of the yellow rose bush, and cut out a lot also from the prairie rose, getting along pretty well, in spite of my fears of a large black and yellow snake which Harry says he saw, and only getting one thorn into my thumb. As I was getting chilly and thinking I might as well go down, I heard someone calling "Alice! Alice!" and saw Mary Fifield near the foot of the hill. Down the road I rushed, brandishing the pruning knife in the air; and we went in. I presented her with the salt banana, which she began eating, and contrary to my expectations did not spit it out, but said "Why what makes this banana so salt?" "Salt?" said I, opening my eyes innocently. "Yes," said she "awfully salt, just taste there," and I took a very dainty nip, and spat out that little. "How queer," said I. "Mine isn't so." I suggested that it might only be the flavor of the rotten part, and that she should try further down; as I had only salted the end. this arrangement was satisfactory, and she selected a book. Mama afterwards came in and let the cat out of the bag. Mary vowed vengeance, which now I fear she will keep only too well. I walked home with her, and we had some fun and chases on the way. Bought bread at Parks, and saw Charley Bradley parading up and down on horse back. May 12th 84 Sunday. Read and got along as best I could Went up to the house and worked some; weeded a little and trimmed a considerable part of an althea. Afterwards went up again with Papa, went into the house and sat under the trees. Picked some very young cones to show Mama. Harry had a bad headache, and lay around in chairs with his eyes shut, looking white and miserable, which distressed me. I made him a cup of sage tea, which he drank with unexpected meekness, soaked his feet and bayrum-ed his head. While he was undergoing that last process he said "How Mary Fifield would laugh it she saw what you are doing!" and I said "She's quite welcome." Soon after the lamps were lighted he betook himself to bed. Bathed. Read one of Mr. Collyer's sermons in 'Nature and Life,' and liked it. Cut something concerning him out of a paper. May 13th Monday. I accused Mama of scratching out something in my diary, and she confessed to having done so. We had a conversation, which[ed] nearly resulted in my giving up keeping a diary, and burning the old ones, but the affair ended satisfactorily. Took Piries Japonica and fruit blossoms to Mary Fifield. May 14th Tuesday. Harry aggravated me by saying he should get a divorce from his wife unless she took his name, which seemed to me both a skit at Mama and an assertion that he had any right to decide for her in the matter. Transplanted a row of violets to the side of the Summer-house and pruned rose bushes Am feel very unhappy because I can't love God. No letters.May 15th 85 Wednesday. Gathered some half blown lilies of the valley, the first of the season, and took them to school. Encountered Sadie, who perceived them with rapture, seized and smelt them, and thanked me when I gave her them. Said they had a bed, but being under the trees did not blossom so soon. Let me her definitions to copy. Mary abused me for not give them [for] to her, and on the strength of it filled my inkstand with peanut shells, and knocked me on the head with my own History. [Went] After school as we came out Sadie said her mother was sick of rheumatic fever, and the flowers were just the thing to give her. Said she would pay me back in rose-time; I told her we had lost of roses; she mentioned cherries, apples, pears etc. but we had them all, and I told her if she wished to pay me to come and see me sometime; to which she made no answer. Josie Jones tried to make me promise her some. Passed two notes to Mary Fifield and balled at recess. Went into Boston with Josie, who made the conductors let me pass free, much to my disgust. Her father has something to do with the road. I charitably let her inflict her company on me from the station to the Public Library and Hamilton Place. Went carpet-hunting with Mama. We saw some beautiful ones. and I dont know which to choose. Decided on a dress at Hoveys, and came out home. Got books. May 16th Thursday. Took 3 bunches of Lilies to school; gave one to Josie, one to Hattie Mann, and the other to Mary Fifield. Went in a second time to look at carpets with Papa and 86 Mama but did not decide on any. We went into one large store where we were taken up and down in an elevator. My eyes were sore, and hurt me. Finally worried out that idea that Mr. Collyer put into my head, as to whether I had just to try my best to do my duty in that station of life unto which I am called or whether it is no use unless I love God, which I dont. I decided for the first. I wish I could love him. Maybe if I try my best to do right he will help me about the loving; certainly I don't see that I can help myself. Papa and I jumped upon a moving train, which Mama missed, and we afterward drove about with a trial horse; that is Papa did; I sat shivering behind. May 17th Friday. Hattie Mann gave me some violets. Played base ball before school and at recess. Cut a picture of a queer creature out of Harper, and paste it on white paper; wrote under it "This is the animal that fills people's inkstands with rubbish. Scat your brute!" and gave it to Mary Fifield. Went in for the third time with Mama to look at carpets and finally decided on a dark crimson. Still no letter! Heard Mrs. [*Mary A Livermore*] Livermore in the office detailing her woes and vexations to Mrs. Hinckley, and enjoyed it. I always like to hear Mrs. Livermore talk. Came out alone, and walked up with Mr. Horne and Sarah Glass. Harry had a headache. May 18th Saturday. Ball at recess, and a good deal of Sadie's notice. Two two great bouquets of lilies of the valley to her and Hattie. I hid them under my cloak, but Josie smelled them out, and of course I was surrounded; and if the rightful owners had not opportunely arrived, they might have missed their flowers, though I did my best to save them. Went into Boston again, kept office87 a while, and came out bringing flowers with Mama. After supper went up the hill to dig a place on the mound for the verbenas we brought out, leaving Mama, who was coming after, to bring the plants. She didn't so I went back for them; when I got them up I found she had changed her mind and did not want them planted till next day. After some wandering about the house came down, leaving Mama to go back with Papa, Mr. Carter and the Hinkleys, who were driving up the hill. May 19th Monday. Made some cookies all myself. They were very good, only not quite sweet enough. Then I tried a thin cake made the same way, only with apple and pear blossoms which I put in to flavor it (but they didn't. Washed my chimese, made my bed, read Nature and Life a little, and fed my chickens. A very dreary, rainy disagreeable day, followed by a very rainy, misty, dreary, disagreeable evening After supper we all took a ride with our new horse, whom I want to call Du Gueschin, but we had some trouble with the harness. At last we started, and rode over to Mr. Haines', getting back about half past eight. He is a splendid goer, and does what Papa calls ambling. Papa paid $400. for him; a frightful price, and is beginning to repent, so tries to see all the beauty in the horse he can; and it really is a splendid creature. Bathed. May 20th Monday. Ball. Carried a huge lot of valley lilies to school, and distributed them. Of course 88 there was a rush for them. Got Kitty's answer to my renunciation at last. I cope it word for word. "Madam: I accept my dismissal. I fling all your charges in your teeth! Base slandered of a gallant sailor, I defy you to prove me a traitor! I have never hitherto believed, but am now forced to do so, that 'All women are faithless." Beware! My anger is excited, and I hereby vow vengeance. Defiance till death to slanders! Protection to the oppressed! R. Kidd Captain R.N. H.M.B.S.S. Vanguard H.B.M.D.A.C. I don't understand all those titles, but have not doubt they mean treason. Now I suspect Kitty means to follow-up her vow of vengeance in person. The letter is not dated, and I think she left it behind for Aunt Elizabeth to post. I think Uncle George is escorting her home. If there wasn't something up would she have waited 17 days before answering my letter, and sent such an answer, just about the time she must have received my conciliatory letter. Now to the winds, all my vain dreams! The persons name shall never defile my diary again- till next time. I perpetrated some dismal poetry, and planted two hills of musk melons secretly. Got a young folks, and to console me for The Person's villainy, find that the Molly thing is accepted. But I haven't told. Went down to the Square for some bread and to call on Mary and show her "The Person's89 better. She was out, but I met her, showed her, and she said it served me right, and wanted me to finish my unsuccessful call; but Sadie appearing and poking me with an umbrella bade me walk home with her, and of course I followed my Leige Lady. I went with her to Fields Corner, and she said her mother bade her thank me for the lilies. I left her and went home. At recess the leader of the other side of the base bawlers said that such a girl was hers. "Well, Alice is mine; aren't you, Alice?" said my sovereign; and I said "I am." She said "I am proud to own you, Alice." I said, "I am proud to belong to you." Then the girls laughed and we played. May 21st Tuesday. Went into Boston in the afternoon, renewed two books and changed the rest, left a message at Goldthwait's, and lugged out the heaviest load I ever took yet. Gathered a bunch of lupines between here and Naponset, fed my chickens and helped Miss Tucker do up the supper dishes. Read in the evening. M.P. No. 2 May 22nd Wednesday. Gave Carrie Horne her lilies - put lies first and Miss Tolman what was left of the chrysanthemum things, after the assault in the yard. Sadie chases me at recess, and when I batted the ball away said "Good! I stand up for Alice!" A row between Annie and Miss Tucker. Finished the maple sugar. Worked at the house. Planted seeds under Mr. Murphy's directions, and got Frank to roll out the stump, on which I planted various things. Dug up part M.P. continued. 90 of a bed by the summer house. Got a letter from Kitty, which has entirely reinserted her in my affections. May 28th Thursday. Lent M. Fifield Ungava, and got a mis-spelled note in return, full of protestations of hopeless adoration, accompanied by threats of suicide. Had good luck at base ball. Our side got in and stayed in till the end of recess, and made the rounds safely twice. Rainy. In the afternoon made three lemon and one orange pie, also a lot of tarts and some bad lemonade. May 24th Friday. Took flowers to school, and played base ball. Sadie almost always chooses me, to my bliss. Worked in the garden, planting, weeding, etc. and dug a pailful of greens, for which I am to receive $.15. Nearly broke my back doing it. Began a letter to Kitty. May 25th Saturday. Rainy. Thunder and Lightening. We had [thunder and light] one of Mrs. Caudle's curtain lectures for the reading lesson, and such a time as we had over it! A universal chuckling and tittering filled the room; Hattie Mann was as red as a boiled lobster, and Josie Jones had her face down on her desk in hysterics. We were al[l]most all of us shaking like jellies, and my voice shook in spite of me when I read. We got worked up to a high pitch of nervous excitement, and were kept 10 m. after 12, because Willie Elder and Etty Sharpe were too much overcome to read, and had to be waited for. They would get up, begin, stop short and shake all over. Went to Boston through a91 furiously heavy rain, kept office and got Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures. Came home, gathered lupins and saw a snake. May 26th Sunday. Worked in the garden and got catnip for Toby. Wrote to Kitty. Took a ride in the afternoon over to Mr. Jackson's greenhouse, where we saw some beautiful plants, though he was away. I didn't enjoy the ride much, being cold, and squeezed onto the front seat with Papa and Mr. Carter, who talked horses and politics. May 27th Monday Took flowers to school and hid them in the long grass on the bank till the owners appeared, yet had to stand a violent siege. I had given Hattie Burdett some lilies, and Sadie, who had none, accused her of having got uncommonly fond of me lately; but seeing one of the calicanthus buds, she begged it of me, and having received it said she had always considered me an angel. I instantly underwent a storm of reproaches from the other girls, who had tried in vain to get the said bud. School is not to stop the week after the fourth; a prospect most horrible, and at which we scholars are justly indignant. Trimmed 5 or 6 altheas, and tries to doctor the rose bushes for bugs according to the receipt in Scribners Monthly, but did not succeed very well. A letter from Florence. She has seen that thing in the Young Folks, and I must write and shut her up, or my plot will be prematurely exploded. 92 whatever that may be, and half the rest stayed away on that account. Mr. Horne gave us a long and stupid general examination. In the afternoon hurried down to school, and [took] got permission from Miss Tolman, who arrived just as school began, to spend the afternoon playing truant. The rain accosted me from the schoolhouse to Tremont Temple, and cleared up [i] when I got under cover. Spent a very stupid afternoon, as neither Mr. Garrison nor Mr. Collyer spoke, though Mr. G. was there. I sat in a dark pew and made my eyes ache trying to read the Caudle lectures. There was a sharp-faced young lady on the same seat who reminded me of Desire Ledwith. Mr. Garrison shook hands with me at the end of the meeting though, which was something. Dried my feet at Mrs. Larissey's fire, took supper at[ro] Marston's, and then went to the evening session. Mrs. Campbell spoke, Mrs. Livermore splurged, and I dozed through it in the gallery. Two young puppies on the bench behind me disturbed me by talking, sneering at the speakers, and kicking the bench, and when they went away one of them patted me on the back and said "Goodbye, dear." Horrid little scoundrel! When the Editress of The New North West, a lady I don't like at all, began to speak, I retreated to the dressing room, and waited, sleeping and thirsty, till the meeting was over, and we drove home with Du [?] who had been left at a liveryMay 29th 93 Wednesday. Made my head ache over the arithmetic examination, and was invited by Hallie Mann to play croquet with her in the afternoon; which I did. Hallie and Luke and I played first several games, in all of which I was beaten; then a Miss Whiton, whom they called Esther, joined us and we played two more games, in the second of which Hallie and I won; and I left with the glory of victory upon me. The apple trees were full of cankerworms which swung in the air about our heads; and the girls were constantly [sk] shrieking to have them pulled off their necks. Mrs. Campbell [margin] fell asleep with one. May 30th Thursday. Decoration day and a holiday. Worked in the garden trimming currant bushes and weeding the strawberry bed. In the afternoon went into Boston with Miss Tucker, got the letters from the P.O. and returned 3 books at the Atheneum. The public was closed. Came out in the rain, got wet, and washed. May 31st Friday. Miserably rainy, as I did not wear my water proof to school. Grammar Examination. Made a lemon pie and some burnt tart crusts. Miss Tucker nagged me till I was ready to burst with rage, and privately exploded to Harry, who reciprocated. Had a long rainy dreary disagreeable dreary ride, during which I lost one of my garters. Just 1st Saturday. Spelling examination. Weeded the strawberry bed, planted the marigolds, and put wood ashes on my melons. Annie left, looking, O so pretty, and 94 left me feeling O so miserable. Robert Collyer- not the Laird animal- is going to preach in Boston Tomorrow and I am going to hear him. June 2nd Sunday. Drover over to the Sound End with Papa to hear Robert Collyer. We got a seat under the desk in the front row, where we heard every word, though when he stood up I could not see more than the top of his head without stretching my neck. Of course it was a good sermon; very good; the text was "Let your light shine" and I came home with a vision of sparks dancing before my eyes, and a determination to snuff my candle. He acted very much as he did in Harrison Square, rolling about in the pulpit and gesticulating violently; and once he amused me very much by leaning over the desk and shaking his fist at the congregation, o add force to his remarks. During the hyms I sang when I had the words, and Papa, who did not have them at all stood up and howled melodiously. I like to see Mr. Collyer get excited, and red and shiny, and he is so much in earnest that you must respect him if you dont agree with him; though I do. After the sermon Papa wanted me to go up and speak to him, but I was afraid he would think I wanted another kiss, so I didn't. We drove home through the beautiful weather, with every horse chestnut a mass of bloom, and Papa seeming much happier than usual, and I feeling extremely good. Hadn't I been to church and taken my testament with me? Drive to Squantum in the afternoon and got white violets. A fight with Papa and Antiquary.[*95*] June 3d Monday. Went to school, and found there was none, so went into Boston and decided on a grey and rose carpet, the expensiveness of which rather rubbed my conscience, dined at Marston's, looked at papers, and changed my Public Library books. Selected 4 at the Atheneum and found none could be taken out. Rode home with Mama and bought a lot of things at Field's Corner. June 4th Tuesday. School. Drawing. Base ball. Hattie monitor. I No. 6. and next Eddy Jenkins. Weeded the strawberry bed with Harry. I told him what Annie said about his having a fine voice, and he said he hadn't, for it was changing; but I saw him lying among the strawberries grinning and he sang and whistled all the rest of the time. Mrs. Campbell came. June 5th Wednesday. A great storm. Went over to Squantum in the afternoon on account of the storm, and got soaked above the knees, so that I had to change everything. Went around Moswetusket hill and picked some seaweed. Mrs. Campbell scared me by hinting that I was going to die, and I had an imaginary lung fever on the spot. But I am alive, though Mama lectured me and was disgusted with Mrs. C. and Miss Tucker for letting me go. [*Mrs. Margaret Campbell visiting Blackwells*] June 6th Thursday. Read Woman in White to Mrs. Campbell in the afternoon. A Ledger came, and was duly devoured. June 7th Friday. Went in to Boston and chose my wall paper. A Grammar ex-in afternoon. Mine all [*96*] right but that detestable sons' in law - horrid creatures! Tried to make up my mind to bear my expected deafness and was pleasantly reassured by Mrs. Campbells proving it was my heart I heard beating. June 8th Saturday. Was interrupted in the thick of 'the Cameron Pride' by Mama's suggesting with a sweet smile that I should empty the slops; I did it, barely refraining from an explosion. I hate - oh how I do hate that amused pity and grinning 'poor little mouse' that one's elder sometimes inflict on one! I understand now how Kitty hated the "Poor little fool of an oppressed race." Went over to Hattie Mann's by invitation, to darn stocking. Annie Phips came, and after she left I had some fun with Hattie. We fainted and tried gymnastics, then took a walk, stopping at the P. O. and Hattie treated me to a pickled lime, which I ate and enjoyed. Papa and Aunt Marian came, the latter looking sweet and Quakery with her white hair like silver. And Capt. Kidd's diary came!! I squealed like a steam whistle, and hugged it to my bosom. Had the nightmare, possibly because I kept cloves in my mouth all night in[stead] fear of toothache. June 9th Sunday. Mince pies, and made up a bundle to Kitty. Bathed. Annie came in the P. M. according to promise, and was hugged. Went up to the house with Papa and Aunt M. Washed. June 10th Monday. A shindy at school with Mary F. In the afternoon went into Boston to see the dentist and get my picture taken, as Aunt M. wants one to match97 Florence's (a very good one which I covet). The D. was out; the pictures universally pronounced the best I have had taken for years. June 11th Tuesday. Harry moved to his room in the upper house. We bought a cow. Had a dread- ful time getting up in the morning and going into Boston in the P.M. but am[d] much much too hot, mosquitoey, and aggravated by Miss Tucker's pres[c]ence to write about it now. I went to Neponset, and got upon the train without a ticket; got off at H.S. and came back for it. Got some pennies from Miss Tucker and scurried to Neponset. Got there barely in time, found to my horror when the conductor came round that the fare was 22c., and I had but 15. Was allowed to go at half price. Dentist out. Changed books, waited for Papa at office, went with him to choose gas fixtures, and drove home with the duke. June 12th Wednesday. School in the morning. Washed windows and swept up at the new house, and didn't enjoy it. Thermometer 78 in the shade. Stewed in my summer things. Am worried dreadfully by the bellowing of our cow, who roars at intervals of from half a second to five minutes. It's really unbearable! Have been stimulated by Stretton to a wish for the par- ticulars of the Indian Mutiny or Sepoy Rebellion, or whatever is the correct and historical name of that disturbance in India 14 years ago. June 13th Thursday. Another stewing day. No ball. Washed a window at the upper house. Found an account of 98 the India mutiny in my history, but short and not very satisfactory. Sufficient unto the day was the heat thereof; and more so. June 14th. Friday. The anniversary of my great villainy. One year ago today I did the meanest and wickedest thing I ever did in all my life; and learnt a lesson against curiosity which I hope will last me one while. It is a stewing day, the hottest yet; and oh so mosquitoey! The house is in a most uncomfor- table state, as we are just in the betwixt and between of moving, and have no rest for the soles of our feet, except on bare boards. Nothing particular has happened. Those villainous carpet men have broken their appointment again. A thunder shower in the afternoon with light- ning that scared me onto the bed. I have been reading over the account of that vile performance in my other diary; and I think I feel in a small way as Peter must have done after he swore at Jesus; only I was totally without excuse. I am ready to bite myself when I think of it. Read Stretton. Back to LS Home at 45 Boutwell after repairs of fire damage June 15th Saturday. The boys declaimed. We are just at that stage of the moving during which we live in neither the one house, nor the other, and have no rest for the soles of our feet. When I came back from Boston where I had gone to the dentist, I [came] found they had moved most of the things to the upper house. Then the beds went up, and I slept in my old room for the first time since the fire. My room seems pleasant, cool and nice, but my furniture has not come.June 16th 99 Sunday. I am just ready to swear! That detestable woman, Miss Tucker, rushed upon poor Toby to put him out of the dining room; I seized her;' she shoo'd; he fled; I threatened to make her run (when she boasted of having made him run), by popping out upon her from behind a door, all of course in fun, when Papa and Mama came down upon me and shut me up, as if I had been swearing; and I forthwith drew into my shell and maintained a stony silence during dinner, while I inwardly boiled with wrath. So Miss Tucker is to insult me and my cat at pleasure, is she, and I not to say a word, even in fun? I hate her - I hate her; the nasty, provoking stuck up insolent thing! And Mama likes her so much that I am afraid she will stay, as she stays now, holding her threat of leaving over our heads as if it was not the thing I should be gladdest of, and making the house unbearable to me as she did to poor Annie, so that she left, which I cant, worse luck. But if she continues her insolence and perpetual nagging, I'll beg borrow or steal money enough to pay my passage to England, and be off by the next Cunarder; for I wont stay here and be insulted by that conceited old mischief maker - I wont, that's flat! Drove over to Mr. Welds, and was talked to some by him. He asked me how I was and if I lived according to the laws of nature; and didn't know what to say, so said I was afraid not; he asked if I took plenty of exercise in the open air, and I said [he] I didn't; 100 and he said "Be thyself, child; don't be anybody else!" and I said couldn't be two people at the same time, and I guess looked very much puzzled, as I certainly felt, for he twisted his face all up, and laughed, and as we got into the carriage to go bade me again most emphatically to "be myself." He is so queer! And as we drove home I thought of how I felt last time we came back from there, nearly a year ago, after a little bit of retribution. June 17th Monday. No school on account of the battle of Bunker hill, [13] 96 years ago. Bells and guns before I was up, after dreaming of Stretton; one of those queer dreams I sometimes have, which I am really sorry to wake from; not that they are specially pleasant, but absorbing and intensely interesting. June 18th. Tuesday. Hot. Went to Boston to look at furniture with Mama. The set I liked best cost $300. and of course was out of the question, so I chose one cheaper but still expensive. Then we looked at chairs. I am to have one big easy one, and I want one of the two Turkish chairs we saw - and sat in. Harry went to the Jubilee. June 19th Wednesday. Fanny Benedict sent me a note asking for the moss rosebud on my desk; I gave it to her and asked her to come and see me; she is to ask her mother. Went over to Hattie Mann's to play croquet. We played 19 games; I beat 12, she 7, and I whitewashed her once, but she beat the last game in a very provoking manner, so I left with demonstrations of wrath and vengeance, and threats of poison. A Ledger came and was read. Harry left.June 20th 101 Thursday. I am cross! I have had to undergo a severe trial of my feelings; I have had Fanny Benedict and Minnie Knapp carry on a violent flirtation in my presence, and been a witness to that idiotic spectacle. I was going to cultivate the "social virtues" and had invited Fanny over for the afternoon, and gone down to the school house to meet her at 4 oclock, when the afternoon school was let out. She was engaged with Minnie, and proposed we should go the long way, so she could walk part way home with Minnie, and M. gave me her books to carry, being too fat and lazy to do it herself. She recommended me to read them, and I took her at her work and dove into a piece book, as they sauntered along at the rate of a mile a day. Presently "There they go, and we aren't going their way nor they ours." Then Fanny caught up with me, and proposed that we should cut across lots. I supposed the attraction was some young men lying under a tree, but found it was two of the high school boys going up our hill. By cutting across we got onto the same road with them, and then began the horrors. Fanny and Minnie began talking very loud, and wishing they could find a 4 leaved clover, and trying to attract the attention of the young men before us, also talking of my Betrothed very loudly, and making me very uncomforable. We overtook them just by our gate, so I slipped through, and quickly put a hedge and two bushes between me and the creatures, with whose those girls had stopped. 102 So the 4 chattered outside the gate for some quarter of an hour, defacing our hedge meantime. [A] I stood in the yard and remembered the third commandment. At last Fanny and Minnie parted from the[ir] entrancing youths, and Fanny rushed in and commanded me to get two rosebuds; I did so; the boys were going down the hill; she flung the buds over the hedge, but the boys did not see them. She then flew to the Summerhouse, sat in the window and waved her handkerchief at them. When they were gone, I remarked to the air that I was going to write to Kitty and tell him that if he came home to dangle at my apron string and make me do all the courting I would break the engagement. As I will. Which remark greatly edified them. The boys reappeared, and produced more excitement. At last I got them onto the housetop. They didn't look at the view; they looked for the boys, and made mysterious signs at them with handkerchiefs. At last they left. I walked a little way with them, but seeing those males waiting in the road, abruptly took my leave and came home, with a comparitively low opinion of my fellow creatures. I descended to the cellar, groped my way to the milkroom, and soothed my irritated feelings by drinking an enormous quantity of milk. In the morning, Mary and Lottie Bathgate called. Mama being out, [th] I took them to the top of the house, where they drove me nearly frantic by inquiring about localities of103 the which I am profoundly ignorant. Among other things they asked me if Beacon St. was at Savin Hill! June 21st Friday. The longest day in the year, and certainly the hottest we have had yet. Stewing, boiling, frying, baking, roasting, fricaseeing. School in the morning, with the first class absent and also half the second. Weeded the strawberry bed in the afternoon. Drove down to the station to get Emma, as Frank does not know her. I wanted to go alone, but Mama was afraid to have me drive Du Gueselin, (whom they will persist in calling Billy). Accordingly, when we were fairly under way, I got Frank to give me the reins, and drove both ways. June 22nd Saturday. Another stewing day. Only about 12 scholars present, out of the 50. At dinner Papa said he was liable to fits of insanity, especially after drinking cider, which remark would have scared me dreadfully had I not known that he is given to making extravagant speeches. Also a counter-irritation was produced by Mama's expressing her belief that we are coming to poverty. However I know how to empty slops, and if worst comes to worst can probably get a situation as a chambermaid. June 23d Sunday. A heavy sea fog. Garden work, and wrote to Kitty. June 24th Monday. Promotion ex. in Arithmetic. Went in with Emma to the Jubilee. Emma got a letter calling her home at once, so I went with 104 June 25th Tuesday. Mr. Campbell. Books at Public, and home. For several days there has been a heavy sea fog, which still lasts. A day of disasters. We just missed our train, so were late. A number of smaller aggravations arising from Miss Tucker, and a standing ride to the Coliseum, where I arrived in a very savage state of mind. We had tickets, but every seat was full, as were aisles and sides, and we had to stand up. The music was fine, but the anvil chorus was not so loud as I expected, may be because it lacked the cannon accompaniment. W[h]e left, and walked over the the South Boston depot, and at last got home. From the time I left Hsn Squ. to the time I got back, I had not sat 5 m. I haven't been so tired for an age. My carpet smelt so, I had to sleep in the upper room. At the office I found a check for $3. in payment of the Molly thing. Papa had opened the letter, and he and Mrs. Campbell teased me; which didn't increase my amiability. June 26th Wednesday. A heavy sea fog still. Went into Boston with Mamma in the afternoon; got Tales of the Western Highlands, also a Ledger. Mark Heber's Luck is finished up. June 27th Thursday. Promotion, examination in Grammar. Mr. Horne took me up into the hall and made me read him Mrs. Caudle's curtain lecture. He wants me to do it at exhibition.105 soon after dinner I drove Mama down to the station and left her there, she warning me to be careful of the corners coming home, which warnings I some- what laughed at. Coming round the corner into our yard, the carriage upset, and I found myself being bumped about, and then lying on the ground while the Duke tore on to the barn with the carriage bouncing about behind him. Finding that none of my bones were broken I picked myself up and went into the house, feeling somewhat bewildered. Miss Tucker, when she found me alive went out with Frank and me to see if the Duke was hurt. His hind legs are scratched, but that is all. I did up my bruises with arnica, and went down to meet Mama, who I knew would expect the carriage. Meeting Sadie and Addie Calender, I gave them an account of the performances, and repeated it to Mama when I met her. Mama became very blue and lamented that horse and carriage had not both been knocked to bits. My damages consist of 5 bruises and a bump. June 28th Friday. Could hardly stand on my feet in the morning, and couldn't go to school. Mama put me to bed with hot flat irons and gin, and when I felt better I got up and spent the day reading, dawdling and practicing on our recovered piano. June 29th Saturday. A tiresome rehearsal for exhibition, and a visit from the Swedish minister, in honor of whom school kept till a quarter past 12, to the wrath of [*The scare had the effect of tansy tea, and brought on M.P. number 3.*] 106 Charley Bradley. He remonstrated, and Miss Tolman came down upon him. Said the Merman piece at last. Awfully hot. June 30th Sunday. Papa arrived, and the first effect of the news of the accident on him was to make him scold. The hottest day I have ever known, or at least one of them. We all stewed. Wrote to Florence. Drove out to Squantum in the evening. Picked up Mrs. Butterfield and took her along. July 1st Monday. The last day of school, and the hottest of the year. Stupid rehearsals in the morning. Went in white through a stewing sun, leaving my music books, and had to race home for them, getting back barely in time. The hall was fearfully hot, and Mr. Adams in his speech "welcomed the audience to this oven" and said as they were probably half done they would be glad to know that the performances were nearly done too, and begged their pardon for baking them a little longer. He said that the [Dorchester?] Harris was the the highest among the Dorchester schools, and Bradley had the highest % of the Harris and so was the 1st scholar in Dorchester; and Mr. Horne [car] corrected him by saying that Mary Fifield had just the same %. There was singing and recitations etc. Sadie Wilson [sop] spoke [Ivry?] - and she can speak.107 July 2nd Tuesday. A Mrs. Dennet and two men came to dinner. Mrs. D. is going to stay over night. She kissed me when I was presented, and I slipped away to the pump and washed my face. Cherries were picked by me, with the help of Collins and another little Irish boy sent down to me by Mama. Made a table for my den out of a box and towels. [A tired] July 3d Wednesday. Sick at my stomach, and went minus my dinner. Rode into Boston with Papa, Mama, and Mrs. Dennet. Sent off "The Boy in Grey" to Miss Andrews, and got "The Cruise of the Midge from the Atheneum. July 4th Thursday. Overslept myself and was late for breakfast. Guns. Transplanted my squash last night. Rained and blew. A sore throat. Drove down to the dressmakers with Papa, and had a bad fright coming home on account of the lightning and our horse getting scared. Fireworks were flashing all round the horizon when I went to bed. July 5th Friday. Weeded, and tried to fix a bower under the altheas. Shelled peas, and read and practised. Mrs. Dennet is still here. Picked a basket of cherries for Mrs. Campbell. Florence, Edith and Grace are invited here. July 6th Saturday. Had a beautiful sail with Mr. and Mrs. Campbell. They were to hoist a black flag, and I was put upon 108 the watch for it, and wished it had been my pirate lover. When it appeared Papa, Mama, Mrs. Dennet and I drove down to the shore in the carriage, and found Mrs. C. sitting in the boat, her husband having gone up to the house to call us. When he came back we had a beautiful sail, lunching on cake and crackers, and landed on Moon island, where we stayed just long enough for me to take a delightful bath. Moon Isl. [with its] reminds me of M.V. only that the cliffs are not high enough, and are grass grown. We landed at Squantum, where the carriage awaited us, and drove home with Mrs. Campbell. July 7th Sunday. Reading, ripping, practicing, etc. Sent a vituperative note to Mary Fifield, Papa being going there to see about a man. July 8th Monday. Drove into Boston with my parents. Dined at Marston's and changed my books. Waited 2 1/2 hours in the Public Library, and then Papa came for me and we drove home. July 9th Tuesday. Mama sick in bed all day with diarhoerra, and I did the nursing. Tried cherry jelly, and failed. July 10th Wednesday. No Ledger nor letters. Papa brought a gentleman home. Walked down to Mary Fifields to see about bathing houses, but she was out. I saw Sadie's little sisters. Their is a hammock in their yard.109 July 11th Thursday. Played a game of croquet and made a lot of lemonade. Mr. Oberlin Smith left. Got a letter from Kitty. [July 12th] We drove over to Savin Hill to [Friday] see Mrs. Moore, and on the way saw [I] saw Sadie, slender, dark haired and lovelier than ever. July 12th Friday. Papa and I made currant jelly and wine in the morning. In the afternoon went into Boston and got the letters and Ledger. I had to race both ways, and dared not wait for my soda. July 13th Saturday. As I sat in the station wait- ing for the train to Boston, Mary Fifield appeared at the window, came in after shaking her fist at me, and we had a palaver. She knows where the bathman is, and agreed to go with me in the P.M. Had dinner and soda at Boston, and when I came out went to Mary's. She took me to her room, rightly called Barnums museum, and showed me my letters, and some poetry Sadie had made on the death of a puppy. We bought and devoured some candy, and went to Mr. Cotters, where we rang and knocked without effect, so we went down to the beach and found Mrs. C. who gave me the key of our old bathhouse. Mary could not go in, but lent me her bathhouse, dress and life preserver, and I had a delightful bath, in 110 company with Sadie and sisters. Mary's bath house has all the modern improvements. July 14th Sunday. Made two pincushions, footstool and wall case for our bath- house. Took a ride in the evening. July 15th Monday. Perspired all day, and did not do much of anything else, except anticipate my evening bath, which Mama at last forbid. Nervous and miserable. July 16th Tuesday. Cherry jelly, which wont jell. A cold bath just after breakfast. Felt queer and nervous in the evening. July 17th Wednesday. Sick. In bed the first part of the day. Mary Fifield and Maggie Whitton called in the afternoon, and Mary and I after much mutual abuse made an appointment to drown one another, tomorrow morning at 9. No Ledger! July 18th Thursday. Too damp and foggy to bathe. Drove to Mr. Garrisons and into Boston. Changed my books and inquired for my Ledger. Mrs. Hinckly said it came Wednesday. It was not among the papers in the office, and most certainly Papa has not brought it out. Got my August Young Folks. Molly has not yet appeared. Started to drive home with my pa- rents, but they loaded the carriage so full of things that I couldn't stand it and came by the cars. Papa read [Waverly in] the Antiqua- ry in the evening.July 19th 111 Friday. Hot. I was not allowed to go in bathing, my feelings upon which had best not be recorded. Went down in the evening to call on Mary Fifield, who was with Lulu Mann. We disported ourselves in the streets in a decidedly disreputable manner, till it got so dark that I had to go home. Before I did so I kicked them both upon the shins and made them limp. As a general thing kicking is not fair, but they set upon me both at once, and I had to defend myself as best I could. July 20th Saturday. Went down to Mary Fifield's and found she was out. I underwent the severe trial to my feelings of speaking to the ferocious parient who mistook me for a patient, as I went into the parlor during his hours, [an] to wait for Mary. I got tired, before she came, and started for the bathing house. Maggie Whitton saw my red sack disappearing around the corner, and came flying after me. We went in together and had a good bath. I went out beyond my depth 3 times, twice with the life preserver and once without. I ducked Maggie Whitton's head under, and she did the same to me. I lent the life preserver to Sadie's little sisters, and came out, after staying in rather too long. The Antiquary was read upon the roof, and I chased Papa about to tickle his toes. Florence is coming tomorrow. When I heard the news I screeched and flew off with two big bags. July 21st. 112 Sunday. Moved down to the lower room with much regret. Picked berries and then dressed. I heard carriage wheels and flew out. Papa, Uncle George, Florence and Edie. Florence has had her hair cut, and looks queer. Edie has become a real little beauty. Florence and I played croquet and confabbed. Edie made straight for the book case. I put her to bed. We were all up on the roof, and Florence and myself, [were] having got there first, were much vexed at the advent of the seniors and junior, and wrote brief but emphatic maledictions upon bits of slate, which were passed to and fro. Edie horrified us by reading aloud one which she had made out upside down. July 22nd Monday. We had counted upon a bath, but it was rainy and cold till afternoon. Read, practiced, wrestled with Edie and confabbed with Florence. Edie is so soft and plump and supple and warm and rosy and vigorous that I confess to being most unchristianly envious. Florence and I took a promenade in the evening, and read an account of the horrible murder of Mary Belle Secor, and the lynching of her murderers by the enraged populace. July 23d Tuesday. Florence, Edie and I went down to bathe soon after dinner. Florence being unwell did not go in, but sat on the shore and timed us. The water was cold, and I did not hear Florence's call, and stay- [George Blackwell (Florence " (Edith " daughters of AB & Saml C.]113 ed rather too long. As for Edie, she had been in a great state of eagerness and excitement until she reached the water, when she got scared and kept near the shore. Potted some geraniums and ivy. Upset my nerves with Thief in Night on the roof. July 24th Wednesday. Florence, Edie and I went into Boston. Missed the train, went by the horsecars, dined at Marston's, changed books, looked at pictures and pottery at the Atheneum, and [Edie] had soda, and went home. Florence was quite ill, and I got her some tansy, which she refused. July 25th Thursday. Bright and hot. I took Edie down to bathe and watched her while she did it. Saw Charley Bradley in a boat. A blue shirt is by no means becoming to him. Aunt Sarah and Anna arrived, and we have a housefull. Walked with F. in the evening. July 26th Friday. Blew great guns and rained cats and dogs. So cold and damp that Papa made up a fire in the library, and it was a real comfort. Read and ached. Anna and Edith were afraid to go upstairs in the dark, so I put them to bed. When they tried to tickle me I turned the gas out and fled. F. and I talked villainously all the first part of the night, and kicked and shivered throughout the rest. July 27th Saturday. Having missed my nights rest was miserable for a while, but it was a splendid day, and I played at croquet with F. beating her every time. Florence 114 and I helped ourselves to a couple of pickled limes, and fled from the wrath to come, with F's bathing dress. We got to the shore and her courage failed her to my great dis- gust, because of the men on the shore. When we got part way home I exploded with wrath, upon which she altered her mind, and we went back and bathed. Came home and found the supper cleared away, so we supped on plum bread and milk in the washroom. July 28th Sunday. Chiefly devoted to croquet. I am the best player and can do about what I please with the game, so I beat till they get savage, and then let them win. Rode out with Papa, Uncle G. and F. and endured much agony of mind, but reached home safely. Went upon the roof. Cold and windy up there. July 29th Monday. Croquet and cider making. Agnes Reed came up in the afternoon, bringing a girl for trial. Dishes and chickens. July 30th Tuesday. Florence and I bathed. Edie arriving from Squantum for hers while we were dressing. The waves were like Mrs. Browning's; bright and bleak but any waves were a pleasant change. Dear little Anna left, after I had kissed her well. Poor little thing! She is slipping through our fingers I am afraid. Croquet. F. and Edie squabble continually. Edie takes the most unreasonable occasions115 but F. pitches into her without any occasion at all. Edie cannot speak or even grunt without exasperating her, though it must be owned Edie's speeches are not generally conciliatory. Florence and I went up on the roof, and Edie came and bumped the door, and once lifted it a little way, so that we applied the avoirdupois. July 31st Wednesday. Went into Boston, changed my books and got out in time for dinner. Croquet. I was repeatedly beaten and whitewashed and betook myself to singing hymning. I have got a very good set of books this time, though I have read them all before. We have got a nice new English girl who looks like Aunt Elizabeth and is called Agnes Winny. August 1st Thursday. We went down and bathed. Some one had got in and used my bathing clothes, for the window was open and the clothes were not hung on the nails where I left them. Left a note for Mary F. and afterward found her on the beach. We exchanged defiances and I came home. I have been playing croquet, and have enraged Edie because she thought I played out of turn; but I didn't. She is very hot and hasty, and will fling herself upon the grass and howl at a moment's notice. We dodged her and got upon the roof where we had a duel because she was aggravated at my sentimentalizing over Capt. Kyd. August 2nd 116 Friday. Croquet and roof. Florence and Edie bathed, but I did not feel like it and stayed out, for which I afterward repented. Put Edie to bed, visited F. and went myself. Aug. 3d Saturday. I write under difficulties, as my small cousin Edie is trying to read it upside down and now and then threatening me with her fist. I must stop and drive her away. Gray and gloomy. Croquet under difficulties. Swept my room. Practiced. Florence reads Ravenshoe, and likes it. Aug. 4th Sunday Arranged the big room into a den for myself and F. Edie has the corner room by the pine. Croquet. Florence and I went onto the roof as usual, and stayed till it got cold and late, and Edie was sent up to say there was a fire in the sitting room. When she had gone down and we tried to follow, we found to our wrath and indignation that the door was fastened. Of course we laid it to Edie's charge, as she had several times threatened to do it if we would not let her up. Instantly on finding that we couldn't get down we became twice as chilly as before, and debated what we should do. We didn't call for help, as I was loth to give Edie the triumph; and also, as Florence suggested, we might have howled blue murder and no one would have heard us. So we waited, with an occasional tug at the door for exercise, for Edie to come and release us; but she did not come and I [was] begin[ning] to117 have serious thoughts of climbing down the lightning rod. At last we heard Edie's voice in the depths, and Florence called her to come up. When we heard her beneath us we burst out. "If you have done this," said I, "you had better undo it." "Open the door, Ede," cried F. We heard her undo the catch, and pulling up the door, found her whimpering on the top step. She protested her innocence, [but] and being under the impression that a ghost had done it, begged me to sleep with her. After she was put to bed I went down to the Library, where Papa and Mama denied having had a finger in the pie; so it is decided that it caught accidentally. Aug. 5th Monday. Hot. Croquet. Florence and I wanted a bath, and were beset by Edie, who was determined to go to. After chases and sieges we escaped, but our bath was not a very good one, as the tide was too low. F. and I were weighed. Aug. 6th Tuesday. Croquet. Florence and Edie took a bath; I went part way with them, but was seized with stomachache and came home. I gave a dinner party in my den to Florence, Mama and Edie. Walked with Florence in the evening. Aug. 7th Wednesday. Aunt Emily came, was welcomed and fed. Picked beans and cut up apples. Hot. Florence and I stole away to bathe. 118 It was stewingly hot, and Florence and I broiled. I went through fire to my fate. For I was hailed while in the water, and saw Her - Sadie - on the shore. She rushed into the water and I swam toward her. I could hardly bear to go out of the water while she was in it, and so stayed too long. Walked home with her, she talking to her. She is sallow just now; and F. is not struck by her beauty. A wild windy time on the roof. Aug. 8th Thursday. Broiled into Boston with books and F. and out again. At the present minute am stewing in my nightgown in the den. Supper, Roof and bed. Aug. 9th. Friday. Mortally hot. Stole away to bathe with F. and saw the Light of my Eyes. Croquet, and wrath of Edie. Promenades - no roof. Aug. 10th Saturday. Hot but windy. Sorted apples and played croquet. Bathed with F. and saw the light of my eyes with her two small sisters. Also Charley Bradley. He is often down there with the King creature. All the way home F. tantalized me by hinting at some wonderful discovery she had made, which concerned me, but which she refused to tell me the nature of. Provoking toad! Promenades and roof. Aug. 11th Sunday. Made some very successful jelly which quite eclipsed Papa's. Croquet MP119 with F. and Edie. Wrote stories and promenaded. Papa and Aunt Emily talked old times. Aug 12th Monday. Croquet. Dodging Edith for croquet. Maria Barlow and Grace Greenwood came, and Flo slept with me. Aug. 13th Tuesday. Papa did not bring the basket till late, but it was presented. Our visitors left. I was sent into Boston by Mama with letters. Changed two books. Aug. 14th Wednesday. Eloped. Being bound to have my Ledger and Library books, and having tickets, I started out, but was met by Papa, who asked where I was going and if Mama knew. I said I was going to Boston, but when he mentioned Mama, I took to my heels and fled, leaving him calling behind me. Sadie and her parents were waiting for the train. When it came she sat by me, talked about Plymouth, where we were going next day, looked over my library books, and put me into a state of bliss by [giving] arranging to give me rowing lessons. My state of mind was indescribable, there- fore shall not be described. Got my Ledger and changed my books. Told Mrs. Campbell and Mr. Livermore about the elopement, and he looked at her and said I "was wild today," upon which I told him that I generally was, and left. A storm came 120 up in the afternoon, and F. and I were up in the den, where we had a squabble over her poetry book. She had been reading one to me and stopped half way, and we struggled for the book. As we lay in a heap on the floor, we made some remarks to each other, and finally she said she should think I had enough of reading other folks things, and added something was made me certain she had read my diary. I let her go; she left; and I went down on my knees in a heap. I don't remember what I said, but I was shaking with rage, and hardly spoke to her during the evening. When she was going to bed I put my head in at the door and begged her pardon for what I did about her book - and waited a fitter time to make remarks about my diary. She said "All Right" - but it wasn't. A dread- ful thundershower in the night; louder thunder than I ever heard, and more of it. I got scared a little after midnight, and stood on a pillow in the middle of the floor, and from there ran to Mama's bed, with grunts of terror. Went and comforted Edie afterwards. Aug. 15th Thursday. We went off to Plymouth in a great hurry. It was a disagreeable excursion to me, for what with hot sun, an uncomfortable dress, numerous waterproofs and bundles which Mama would insist upon making us carry with us, headache and worry of mind, I was decidedly miserable . We saw Pilgrim hall, wherein were displayed pots, pans, spoons, chairs, bibles, sofas, a wig, etc. That belonged to the Mayflowerists; the sword of Miles Standish, which he doubtless flourished at John Alder, also a sampler worked by Lorea Standish, his daughter, and one of Priscilla's slippers, which is121 nearly as absurd as those they wear nowadays. We sat in the governors chair, and saw a tall and venerable clock, aged 172 years, which goes still. There were more things than I can describe, very odd and curious. We had hired a carriage, and drove though some pleasant woods to a pond, where we lunched and waded in the warm clear shallow water. We then took a long hot ride to the beach where [we] Edie & I had a a bath. The water was almost like that at Kennebunk. I stayed under long enough to duck my head and give a howl, and then scurried out. We had no bathing clothes. We then drove to the station and went home. I don't like Plymouth much; it's smelly and dirty, and the Fathers had very bad taste to land in such a place. A dreadful headache. Mama mustard plastered my neck before I went to bed, and it did a great deal of good. P.S. I forgot to say that in front of Pilgrim Hall there was a bit of the rock, surr- ounded by a railing with the names of the settlers on it. Over the real rock is a [three?] 122 I fought Aunt Emily, who wished to go up and attend to her. She was obliged to cry "Enough" but we were hoarse and bruised. Aug. 17th Saturday. Rainy. Wrote on our stories and played croquet and read. Aug. 18th Sunday. A bright clear hot day. Such a pity we couldn't bathe! Lounged Went upon the roof and scribbled poetry. Aug. 19th Monday. Escaped Edie, and bathed. My angel appeared after I was out of the water, to my aggravation. F. lent the preserver to small boys, [fr] from whom it was rescued by Sadie's interference, and F. and I went over to Mrs. Cotter's and paid the $5. for the bath-house. While by the water Sadie promised to come up for me next morning, and I called her an angel, at which she laughed. Promenaded with Florence after supper, and was teased half to death about Charley Bradley and George Cook, whom she calls Monsieur Dirty-nails. Judging others by herself [sentence cut off]123 She took the oars first, and rowed to a shady place where she said she sometimes came to read; we each ate and apple and then the rowing lesson began. I learned to row with one hand, and she praised me and said I took to it splendidly. We rowed to Mill street and I ran up home and got some towels and the bath house key, and we rowed to the landing and went from it to her house. She invited me in and I sat down in that parlor which I had seen through the window when oonyacking, and she brought me a glass of icewater. We then went down to the shore and bathed and she got dressed first and went home. My state of mind being indescribable is not described. [Croquet, and furies from Edie.] August 21st Wednesday. I had a diarhoea, but said nothing, being bound to go to Boston, but privately took rhubarb. Papa and I missed our train, and he went by the horse cars. I called on Mary Fifield while waiting for the next rain. Went on it, got my Ledger and books and came home. Edie acted like a little fury at croquet. Aug. 22nd Thursday. Bad diarhoea. Took ginger, and lay on the lounge most of the day. Edie nursed me. Was much struck by the obstinacy of that child. Florence having locked her out she waited several hours rather than go round 124 to another door, and finally had to be let in, as it rained and F. feared she would catch cold. August 23rd Friday. Diarhoea and misery. Mama brought Aunt Emily home from Glouces- ter. M. found I had dysentery, and announced that shocking fact. Aug. 24th Saturday. Dysentery. Prone upon my back in bed, with books to read. Papa read some of the Antiquary in the evening. Aug. 25th Sunday. Ditto. Aug. 26th Monday. Ditto, only no [Waverly] Antiquary. Florence, Edith and Aunt Emily left. Each came up and bid me goodbye. Aunt E. kissed me twice, F. once, and Edith nu- merous times. I jumped out out of bed and went to the window as the carriage drove off. I shouted, they shouted, and Mike shouted; the last made me remember how I was dressed and dodge back. A letter from Kitty, with and enclosure for Flo arrived some quarter of an hour after she had left. Agnes amused me in the evening by showing me her friends pictures, and telling me of them. The mosquitoes tormented me, so that I betook myself to Flo's bed in despair. Religious talk with Mama. 'Set spinning and let go' is her theory. I'd rather be blue Orthodox and believe in Hell than believe what she does. She'll have a pleasant surprise when she dies. Aug. 27th Tuesday. Up at last, but decidedly shaky, and kept on a very125 strict diet. Quite miserable at times. Made some very successful cake, and was not allowed to eat any. Pottered about the garden, read and practiced. Drove to depot and Glovers with M. Aug. 28th Wednesday. Pottered about the garden, read, and practiced. Papa came home in the evening and said the Republicans had endorsed W.S. upon which we hugged him. [*W.S. Republican*] Aug. 29 Thursday. Pottered about the garden, and in the afternoon went to West Brookfield with Mama. We had a new Ledger to read on the way, and after a long ride caught sight of Coy's hill. We rode up on the stage, got out at the foot of the hill and cut across lots, coming in at the back door of the barn, where the cows were being milked. I had a headache, but was glad to see and be welcomed by every one. Tip is a great dog now, and is shaped much like Bravo. It began to rain soon after we got there. Had supper and slept with Phebe. [*Alice & L. Stone Visit to West Brookfield*] Aug. 30th Friday. It rained all the morning. I was shown how to make a tapioca pudding, and practiced a little. I found a book of songs and ballads set to music and containing Capt. Kidd. Copied music and ate cheeserinds. It cleared up in the afternoon, and I ran down to Mrs. Vans- the first time I have felt like running for ever so long; but this air would [*WM*] 126 make anyone feel stong. I don't wonder Mama is brave, having grown up in this glorious hill country. Even I, if I stayed there long, might get to be less of a coward. Mrs. Van was very glad to see me, and showed me a cunning little brown girl baby, born since I left- the dearest little thing I ever saw. I had some new milk from the cow, Uncle B. milking into my cup, and we got ready for the glories. We were rather late, and I walked on ahead, thinking as I came up higher and higher, past the woods and the Gleason house, of that negro song in What Answer; "The Glory of the Lord, it am comin' it am coming The Glory of the Lord, let it come; The Glory of de Lord, it ar comin it are coming The Glory of the Lord, it ar come!" I was barely in time to see the sun, and when Mama and Phebe overtook me at the top, the Glory was about gone, but we rode along the top of the hill before going down. Found I had lost my pin. Aug. 31st Saturday. Went up the hill to look for my lost breastpin, and was overtaken by Mama. We went along the top of the hill, selected the crown thereof, and laid a plot to buy and build on it unbeknownst to Papa. We wandered about all those lovely hills and fields, Hemlock127 wood etc. and I went down after dinner for a farewell call on Mrs. Van. While I was there the carriage came by with P. and Mama, took me in and went to the station, where we took the cars and went home. Sept. 1st Sunday. Aunt Ellen arrived. We showed her over the house and garden and enjoyed her raptures. Covered my school books and got them ready. Sept. 2nd Monday. Aunt. E. is enthusiastic to give me music lessons. I took one, and read and pottered over and unsuccessful attempt at pear jelly. Aunty and I started to go to Fields corner for yeast, but were overtaken by rain before we turned the first corner Aunty has made some very pretty sketches of views from the uper windows. A little gardening. Sang and musiced and Antiquaried in the evening. Sept. 3d Tuesday. Cold. Pottered in the morning, made some rich fruitcake in the afternoon, and in the evening Papa read the Antiquary by a nice woodfire in the library. Sept. 4th Wednesday. Rode into Boston with Papa and Aunt Ellen. Suffered agonies on the way. Showed Aunt E. the Public Library, the deer and the Atheneum. She did not want to leave the pictures, so I gave her directions how to find the office, and went to it for my Ledger. Papa had gone, taking the 128 newspapers with him, to my wrath and disgust. I felt that to wait till night for my Ledger meant insanity, so went to the printing office, where I found his satchel and extracted the precious document. Came out to H. S. and nursed Mama, who has a sick headache. Aunt Ellen got home late, having been carried on to Wollaston Heights. Papa did not get hom till 12 p.m. Sept. 5th Thursday. Went down to call on the Manns, but they were out; ditto Mary Fifield. Reading of Antiquary and potting of plants. Sept. 6th Friday. As I was digging up earth to fill a box Hattie and Lulu Mann came bouncing upon me. They made a call, were shown my den, etc. and then left. Nursing of a sick [picture] chicken (Agnes is responsible for that blur- the wretch!) and pottering. Antiquary. Sept. 7th Saturday. Music, and a cupful of canary pudding of my own manufacture. Retribution; another taste. I laughingly bade Agnes not read my diary, and she mentioned various cases of readings and expressed her opinion of the readers. She told me how her sister promised to thrash the others for something of that nature. I almost wish Alice had thrashed me when I confessed. Oh dear! Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive![129] Sept, 8th Sunday Read, practiced, and ate. Pottered and went for a long drive after supper, much against my will. The Duke misbehaved going down the hill and scared me horribly. Sept 9th Monday. I made some hanging baskets out of beets, and hung them on the apple tree, where they astonished my parents when they drove up. Gardening, music and reading. Antiquary. Sept. 10th Tuesday. Was sent into Boston with Mama's Editorial, and changed two books. Papa brought out a Colonel Fabin, a gentleman with an aquiline nose, gray curly hair, and a very pleasant smile. He is about the first man I ever saw who knows how to talk. His conversation actually wiled me from the charms of "A brave Lady" just from the library. He told about his camels, and I shut up the book and listened till he and papa got upon the subject of Consuls and politics; confound both! I wanted to hear more about the camels. [*visit of Col. Fabin*] Sept. 11th Wednesday. Went into Boston, changed my books, had lunch and did various errands with Aunt Ellen, but did get my ledger. Sept. 12th Thursday. First day of school. I went, became 1st class, and gave myself a head ache over sums. Sept. 13th Friday. School. Less headache. They brought [130] home various mysterious parcels at night. Sentimentalized over the last night of my 14th year, and went to bed. Sept. 14th Saturday. [A spelling] Before I was up in the morning Papa and Mama entered in nightgowns, made me get up, and each taking me by one arm, marched me into my den, which I found matted. Then I was left to dress, and came down to breakfast. Mama there presented me with a work basket, a quantity of various colored paper and envelopes, a dish for flowers, a ball of scented soap, an ice cream freezer, two neck ribbons a blotting paper, an ink stand and glue bottle, and a cornelian breastpin. Aunt Ellen had given me another pin much like it, not knowing of Mama's; and best of all, I had a beautiful upright writing desk. Fanny Benedict and her cousin came over in the P.M. and stayed to supper. I had made some ice cream in my freezer, and we had it for supper. They borrowed some books and took some fruit home. There was a splendid sunset, but I was worried in my conscience because I was to have a rooster killed, and did not go up to see it. Sept. 15th Sunday. Rainy and blowy. Was scooping some beds under the pines, and Mama came out and gave it to me for sorting my[131] waterproof. Antiquary. Sept. 16th Monday. Vile weather, cold and rainy. Wore my fall dress. We expected one session, but didn't get it. Folks away in the afternoon. Sept. 17 Tuesday. A mutiny in the army. It was wet, but not raining, and the bells rang, but were not listened for and therefore unheard, and we left at 12. When I got back at 2, I found the girls in wrath and commotion; everyone at home had heard the bells, and they were "in great [gre] alarm and discontent as the History says. For myself, I left like the division stationed a Newburg. No explosions however. Finished the Antiquary. Sept. 18th Wednesday. Went into Boston, [to] and got into the Public Library. Before I got out a pouring rain came on, which pretty well soaked me below the knees before I reached the office, for I had an umbrella but no rubbers. I got my Ledger, and read it as I dried by Mrs. Larrisey's fire. When I was ready to go to the Atheneum the rain had stopped. Went out loaded with books and bundles. Mama drove me up home. Sadie and Hattie Burdett were on the cars. Papa got home after I had gone up to bed, and came up to kiss me. Sept. 19 Thursday. One session. A note from Mrs. Messinger, asking about a meeting, and I had to answer it as best I could. [132] Sept. 20th Friday. Clouds wind and sunshine. After school walked over to some [w] beautiful woods in the direction of Milton, and got a lot of moss, partridge vines and sweet acorns. Sept. 21st Saturday. Fanny Benedict and her cousin called late in the afternoon, while Mama and I were potting the great ivy. It was a few inches high last fall, and we bought it for five or ten cents; now it had trailed all over the bed. There were bushels of it. The girls did not stay to supper, but took books and apples and went home. Mama [mis] hid a library book, and made me feel cross. Mr[s]. Spalding put our cow in the pound, and she had to go after it, which made her so. Sept. 22nd Sunday. Hot. potted some ivy sprigs, and read. Got myself into a scrape by making pretences. Gave Papa to understand that I had found "Jesus I my cross have taken" on a loose slip of paper, when I had really picked it out myself, and he came in soon after to hear it; and I couldn't show him the paper or he would have known; and I [hid] lost it and had quite a time managing to dodge him with out fibbing. We rode out to a wild beautiful place among the quarries. I really enjoyed it. Nicholas Nickleby read aloud.133 Sept. 23d Monday. Hot. School. Saw Mary Fifield at recess; and Sadie after school just for one moment. Rained a little. Practiced. Nicholas Nickleby aloud in the evening. Musquitoes-- hang-found them! Sept. 24th Tuesday. Mr. Horne read from the bible "Oh praise the Lord, for his mercy endureth forever!" Not only while you are good, or only till death, nor only to the elect; at least it doesn't say so; and - how dare they twist God's truth about so as to make it mean so? Practiced and potted ivy. [*about "God's truth"*] Sept. 25th Wednesday. Went into Boston with Hattie Mann. Got my books and Ledger and came out again. I got Two College Friends, and some of Harriet Prescott Spofford's. Now and then I like to excite myself. Papa and Mama stayed in to a meeting. As I came home from the station Sadie called me, and came flying [home] down the path with her oars, and took me out rowing, and said she had to row every evening for exercise, and put me on shore, and I saw the last of her through Addie Calendar's trees as I walked up home. Eddy Benedict brought home the basket. Christian's mistake. Sept. 26th Thursday. Agnes Winney has got back. She is to be married in 5 weeks, and I am to be bridesmaid. At last. Haurah. A grey day. Have begun a letter 134 to Kitty, but not finished it. Sang with Papa in the evening. I have confessed the "I my cross" imposition. He tried to instruct me in the mysteries of singing a third below, giving me the note with long, melodious howls, and making such queer faces while he sang that I could not help laughing Nicholas Nickleby aloud. Sept. 27th Friday. Studied for the examination, and took it. But it's really abominable to give us things we haven't had this year. We had the Niemen river, which belongs with Western Europe; and I missed it, and what's worse, Hattie didn't. Ugh! you selfish little brute! You deserve to have your front tooth go, you do! Sept. 28th Saturday. Arithmetic and Grammar examination. Went into Boston and heard Mrs. Stowe read. She is a pleasant looking elderly lady, but her voice is hardly strong enough to be heard in a large hall. I changed a couple of books and went home. [*Harriet Beecher Stowe*] Sept 29th Sunday Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were here. Papa and they and I sat round the library table fixing circulars, and talking politics like sixty five while I wrote and listened, with and unpleasant consciousness that Papa's conscience was tough as Sam Lawson's. Mr. Campbell proclaimed himself a spiritualist to my amazement. I asked him if he had ever seen a ghost, and he said he had, and I begging to know what it looked like he135 said like an ordinary human being, and told me various wonderful stories, some of which I believed and some of which I looked upon as dreams and fancies. Mama was wrathy at his telling me such things, but I liked to hear. They left at night. Sept. 30th Monday. School. Hurrah!! I am hed of the 1st class and of the school! It seems very queer to have her place at the outer door. While we were at supper Mr. Campbell appeared. [at head of class] Oct. 1 Tuesday. Unspeakably aggravated by Eddy Jenkins, who has Bradley's place. He a monitor! A suit of clothes stuffed with straw would be exactly as much use. The boys race and clatter down, and he stands looking at them without a word, with an expression of amiable idiocy, or talks to me. And I - am very polite to him. Fixed to shells at the sides of the bow window in my den. Nicholas Nickleby. Oct. 2 Wednesday. Went into Boston with Hattie Mann and Mama's editorial. Changed my books and got my Ledger, and came home. My books are very satisfac- tory this time. Oct. 3d Thursday. Made a cake, fought Agnes and read. Mrs. Leonowens' book. Nicholas Nickleby. I had meant to go to Milton Lower Mills, but it was wet. Oct. 4th Friday. Had the fullest intention of going Miltonward, but Emma Adams asked me to go out rowing, and 136 I accepted with pleasure of course. Hattie went with us, and we all three raced to Commercial point. The boat was launched with some trou- ble, and we started out. It was delight- ful to be on blue water once more, and be able to dip my hand in the blessed brine. We had to come back at last, and I had leave to row one oar, which I liked. Hattie and Emma gave me con- tradictory orders, but I obeyed the Skipper of course. As we made for the pier, we ran aground in the mud. I pushed the boat off once, but it stuck again - fast. And the tide was still falling. And rowing, and pushing and laughter and vexation, were of no use; we couldn't stir her a hair's breadth. A little crowd of men and boys collected on the wharf and watched us with great amusement. A man hailed us from one of the little vessels at anchor, and bawled to us to push off and row so and so. He might as well have told us to go to the moon; we couldn't push off; that was just it. Finally he came to our assistance in a wherry. He took Hattie and me into his boat, and towing and pushing and tugging and grunting hauled our boat into the channel; paddled after an oar we had left stuck in the mud, received our thanks and paddled away. We only ran aground once more, and were triumphantly hauled up to the pier by a rope we flung to the men and boys thereon collected. We then retreated to a boathouse and exploded. Oct. 5th Saturday. Read the Shield and got so wrathy I could hardly hold in; and I raced down the hill and went to work picking pears with such vigor that Mike afterward told Mama I "stripped all one tree and half[t] another in 5 minutes. That wasn't strictly true though. [The Shield]137 Oct. 6th Sunday. Read and practiced etc. and walked over to Milton. Mrs. More and Lowell called in the evening, and Lowell ate supper with me. Will Morris came to see Agnes. I don't like the looks of him at all. Wrote to Kitty. Oct. 7th Monday. Papa drove me down to the bath house before school to get the clothes. The blue trousers and the towels and one pin cushion had been stolen. Mama is sick with erysipelas rash. A headache. Picked two dish pans full of grapes. Nicholas Nickleby aloud. A toothache vio- lently disposed of my means of cloves. Oct. 8th Tuesday. Made some grape jelly in the afternoon. Oct. 9th Wednesday. Went in on the 1.16; got my books and Ledger, did my errands and came out home. At 4 PM the lot on the corner was sold; it is feared for a smallpox hospital. Was met by this sweet news on coming home from Boston. Am divided in my mind between suicide and elopement. Mr. Horne overtook me on the track and arranged to have me remind him of the exercises by raising my hand at 3 PM. Oct. 10 Thursday. Raised my hand and reminded Mr. Horne. Violent excitement about the small pox hospital. In the evening Mr. Roads came over and in informed us that it was all a swindle and a sell, he having made inquiry about it. [There] The idea of those people setting up such a story to make us all combine to buy the land at an enor- mous price! Glorification and Nickleby. Land near #45 for sale Oct. 11th [ ? ] School of course. Miss Lucy Chadbourn, a young lady from Eastport who is to fill the place 138 of Miss Tucker and Agnes when they leave. At first she startled me; she was so very tall - half an inch taller than Alice, as I after- ward found; but I think I shall like her. Oct. 12th Saturday. We are to choose our declamations this week. Went in to Boston, got The Great Rebellion (and was afterward disgusted by Mama's informing me that its author, Headley, was pleasant but quite unreliable.) Heard Miss Charlotte Cushman read in the music hall. We had, without exaggeration, nearly the worst seat in the house, and could not see her well at all, but we afterward went down and stood up close to her. I was struck by the likeness of her "Macbeth" witches to Mr. Weld's. I did not like her reading of Macbeth very well and in "Massachusetts to Vir- ginia" I thought she thumped the table rather too much; but last she read "Betsey and I are out," which was just about perfect. The people stamped and applauded at inter- vals through it, and Mama fairly shrieked out with laughter. Take it all in all, I never heard any- thing like it. Mrs. Kemble was different, but I won't say better. Came out with Mary Fifield, Hattie, Addie Calendar and Emma Adams. I noticed how pretty Emma looked with her dainty little pearl- gloved hands, and gold bracelets and striped grey [sel] lace edged sleeves' Little Monkey! There certainly is a liking for that kind of thing in me, though it doesn't appear. [Side margin] Charlotte Cushman Alice admits she likes fancy things 139 Mr. Horne and lady walked along with me from the station, and we got talking about the [elec] declamations. He asked if I had heard Sadie Wilson rehearse Ivry. I had heard it at exhibition of course, but the room was hot and close and though she did very well she didn't half do herself justice. At that rehearsal it was only fair to say that without exaggeration it would not be too strong to say it was Splendid. As if I could have doubted it! Of course she was splendid and always will be. I [was] quite took to Mr. Horne: and whatever else I do forget, I'll remember to raise my hand at three. Miss Chadburn came out to stay for good. Oct. 13th Sunday. Enjoyed the morning extremely. Spent it sitting by the fire roasting my feet, munching apples and reading The Last of the Mortimers. That is a very pleasant story indeed, like most of Mrs. Oliphant's. A stormy day, and a wild wailing wind. My chest worried, and was mustarded at night. Papa and I took Miss Chadbourne to the house top, where we were all blown crystal clear by freedom's northern wind. Nicholas Nickleby. I saw two notices of George Macdonald's speech in Cambridge. I am bound to hear him; for, as the little Quaker lady in the Waterbabies said "It is borne upon my mind that that is a good man." I liked the notice of some things he said about Burns. (The subject of the Lecture) Oct. 14th Monday. What sort of wild beast from the Maine woods have we 140 got here? This 5 feet 8 Miss Chadbourne, who sings, runs, flies about, and talks sense and nonsense by turns - in short seems to me an exaggerated copy of myself. I wonder whether I shall hate or like her? Thank goodness, poor Miss Tucker will go soon. A cold day. Fought Annie Phips at recess; and collapsed. Sat up till half past nine talking books and Woman's Rights and religion with Miss Lucy. All the world was cold moonlight when I went up to bed. Oct. 15th. Tuesday. School. A letter from Florence. Am going - all by myself - to hear George Macdonald tomorrow night. Oct. 16th Wednesday. Went in on the 1.54, changed my books, and was left in the office when it was shut up. I went down to Marston's, got my supper and came back to the office, where I read and nibbled at what I had brought in my satchel till it was time to start for the lecture. I got there a few minutes before the door was opened, and following my directions made for the gallery and got the best seat I could; right over the stage, a little behind the speaker. Read Alec Forbes till [s]he appeared, when I was notified of the fact by an outbreak of applause, and he began. He is neither bald nor gray, and by no means so old looking as I had - I don't know why - expected. He spoke very queerly - the Scotch accent, I suppose; and got141 many outbreaks of applause. Once the cheering was really ferocious - that was when he [spoke] proposed reading Tam O'Shanter, and would have to speak over his time if he did so. Such a noise! And one cried out, "More!" There was something about him that suggested - not whited-sepulcralness exactly, but - might have suggested it if I hadn't known to the contrary. On the whole I approve of him. They had the English and American flags, with "Welcome" between them, in front of the stage. After it was over I went back to the office and tried to sleep on the sofa. I never knew how hard that sofa was till then - till they came for me, and we drove home by moonlight. I forgot to say that the Young Folks, with Molly and the Brook, appeared at last, and I had the pleasure of aggravating Mr Cambpell, by refusing to let him see it. Miss Tucker has left, for which O be joyful! Oct. 17th Thursday. Mama away all night. School. [Papa read me some Alec Forbes in the evening.] There has been a mysterious murder of a harmless gentleman down at the square, [and] followed by an assault and robbery at the old Colony depot. It was all the talk at school, and I feeling myself in danger of being burglared, took the bread knife up to bed with me. Oct. 18th Friday. A precious time. Every one late, and I not down till 8 because no bell was rung. Much amazement concerning the disappearance 142 of the breadknife, till I produced it from under my bed. Mama away all night again. Papa read me some of Alec Forbes in the evening. Oct. 19th Saturday. Went over to Hattie Mann's, by her invitation, and spent the afternoon in playing two games of chess, in the mysteries of which she instructed me. I beat the first game, she the second. Posted two letters at Field's corner, and took the key of the bath house to Mrs. Colter's, and gave it to a woman in charge of the house apparently. Drove in with Mamma and Lucy to hear a lecture. While we waited to be let into the hall I watched a lady opposite me who reminded me of an imaginary heroine of mine, Marion Ellersleigh. Dark hair and eyes, rather small, erect, and with a very - inexpressible face. I could have imagined her doing almost anything very brave or [? or] very wicked either. It was a very stupid lecture, illustrated by some very pretty experiments, which latter were applauded. We sat on the steps, Lucy and I, the hall being full. Drove out home with Papa. Oct. 20th Sunday. Read, fixed the pots on the stand in the upper halls and rode over to Mr. Garrison's with Papa. The tree were splendid - the great maples especially were a pure golden glory. Papa told Mr. G. that I was always ready to go riding when we went to his house, and he laughed and said he should take is as a compliment. I asked Papa afterward why he told,143 and he said because he knew it would please Mr. G.; and to be sure, he took more notice of me than ever before, and asked me to come and see him myself when I could. He had a nice motherly little grey cat which I straightaway made friends with; Mr. G. likes cats. Nicholas Nickleby. Oct. 21st Monday. Went home with Fanny Benedict after school. While I was there her little cousin was run over in the street, and instantly a flock of relatives rushed out and brought him in with his face bloody, howling at a rate which showed that his lungs at least were not hurt. I left, and came home. At dinner Agnes and Miss Chadbourne both went at me on the Sunday question, and it would have been great fun, their hammering away at me, if they had not had a tendency to lose their temper. Nicholas Nickleby. Oct. 22nd Tuesday. Went out rowing with Emma Adams and Hattie, and witnessed a new sight- flirtation at sea. Their attention during most of the time was taken up by the manuevers of a little 2 sailed boat which it seemed contained a couple of their ganders. C. B. must be pretty well over his dislocated shoulder for they said he was in one of their boats. Got home after dusk, meeting Mamma driving down the hill as I walked up. Oct. 23d Wednesday. Went into Boston and got two most unsatisfactory books, and no Ledger!!! [Nich] Had a dress fitted at Boston and looked in at Hovey's with Mamma. Nicholas Nickleby. 144 Oct. 24th Thursday. Agnes's sister Sarah, a quiet, placid looking English girl, was here to tea, and I plagued Agnes within an inch of her life. Those boys have been cutting up too violently in the dressing room, and we got a public rebuke and warning from Mr. Horne. Rehearsed my piece up in the hall and he said 'very good.' [Got] Dreamed that Mr. Horne and Miss Andrews were married, and was greatly bewildered as to how Mr. H. came to have one wife already. I believe I finally decided that it was a case of bigamy. Oh such musquitoes. Oct. 25th Friday. Went in after school, changed 2 books and got my Ledger. Mama was not at home. Lucy, Agnes and I talked so late that it struck 11 as I got into bed. Oct. 26th Saturday. Will Morris arrived in the evening and we fed him, inspected him and joked with him a little. Lucy brought out a big wedding cake without any frosting. Nicholas Nickleby. Oct. 27th Sunday. We- Agnes assisting- frosted the wedding cake. After breakfast I put on my best dress, and officiated as brides maid in dressing Agnes, helped at the last by Lucy. Lucy and I held a great dispute about Agnes' hair, for I wanted her to have it down, but she didn't; she wore it in a great soft red gold coil. She and I sat on the back seat, I holding her hand, and Will and Papa in front. Agnes seemed in [qui] pretty good spirits, and we passed the Reeds on the way, found the church after some difficulty, [*Alice's first wedding*]145 and got a front pew. There was a dull sermon and some sweet singing, and flatter myself I went thro' the service with commendable propriety, especially the "miserable sinner" part. After the service most of the people stayed to see the marriage. Papa, who had arrived with Sarah Winney just in time to prevent our asking Mr. Reed to supply his place and give away the bride, took Agnes on his arm; Will took her sister and I brought up the rear. We marched up the aisle to the altar, Agnes's lilac silk train being gorgeous to behold, and arranged ourselves in front of the altar. And her sister and I got transposed after all, so that they stood together, which was better after all, though the dresses did not match. The minister in his absurd dress stood on the other side the railing, and read the service. Papa handing over Agnes at the right time[s]. She made the responses faintly but clearly, all but the last part of 'troth', and flushed so when she said I will that I feared she was going to faint; and Will looked yellow, which I suppose is his way of turning pale, and his big black eyes looked big and excited. And what with seeing Agnes and Will so excited, [?ur she] she heaving and throbbing visibly, and looking faint but happy, and his hands shaking, and the congregation murmuring the Amens behind us, I got excited too, I suppose, for I felt my legs shaking under me. Then we all knelt, and when they rose up married, and the minister shook hands with them and wished them happiness, we went into the vestry, and arranged about the marriage lines, and got into the carriage and drove 146 home. Mr. and Mrs. Norris and Sarah on the back seat and Papa and I on the front, I with just three ideas in my head; that I had seen a wedding; the remembrance of Agnes's face as she responded, and a conviction that if I saw any flirtation tomorrow I should burst; for I could not stand it after seeing the real article. Agnes quite recovered her spirits as soon as it was all over, and ate a good dinner, with the Christmas pudding we made yesterday. All the afternoon, Will and Agnes sat about together in the parlor, utterly unable to keep apart for two minutes, and a state of absurd happiness delightful to see. It quite softened my heart toward Will to see him so fond of her. We sang and played some and had the wedding cake for supper, [an] after which I gave Agnes in private my good opinion of [my] her Betrothed, and we hugged each other, and I have her my blessing, and she said she was very happy. As if a mole couldn't have seen that! We had a little Nicholas, and then I ran into the parlor, where Will was in an excited state, kissed Agnes goodnight, ran upstairs taking a bit of wedding cake to put under my pillow and dream of my lover on; religiously thought of Kitty before getting in; slept with the utmost stupidity and dreamed of nothing whatever, to my profound disgust. Oct. 28 Monday. Took leave of Agnes when I went to school. She turned white as we hugged each other, and I feared she would faint; I saw my face I the hat rack glass, and I think I was pale too. So we said goodbye and I went, [Agnes]147 Lucy having promised to see to the throwing of an old shoe after the wedded pair. Dear Agnes Winney! She was gone when I got home. Examined in History and Geography. There was an awful question about Latitude in the Geog.; Hattie, Fanny and I all sat in a row glaring at the board, and exchanging demonstrations of despair. At the end of my paper I wrote "Mr. Horne, that 9th question will rise up against you at the day of Judgment!" and gave it in. Such O's as the girls indulged in when I told them! I went home with a pleasing fear of five checks in deportment, and with the wedding cake under my head dreamed that the whole school went elephant hunting with Mr. H. as chief hunter. Oct. 29 Tuesday. Arithmetic and Grammar examination, the latter a perfectly awful one. After school we girls flew at one another about the parsing. Mr. H. when he returned our papers laid his hand on my shoulder and said "Not against me I hope", and he had written against my "P. S." " I trust not." When he came around afterward to speak to me, I feeling very much ashamed of myself, begged his pardon, he laughed and said "Oh not at all!" I like him - I do! Oct. 30th Wednesday. Spelling examination; Emma Adams and I were the only ones perfect. When into Boston, got 2 satisfactory Atheneum books and my Ledger and was dress-makered. Oct. 31st Thursday. Miss C. went into Boston and Mama and I ate together to our 148 great content, and got supper our- selves. I have a very bad chilblain on my foot. Mamma told Miss Chadbourne about Mr. Garrison and her own early doings. I love to hear of them, and listened wide open. It was very interesting and I resolved to take off that setting hen tomorrow. Ugh! How I dread it! Nov 1st Friday. School etc. Mamma took off the setting hen, so I did not have to. After school She, Sadie, stood at the door, handsomer than ever, and talked to me. Nov. 2nd Saturday. Some of the second class spoke. In our new seats Eddy Jenkins sits right before me, I am sorry to say. Went into Boston in the P.M. and heard Macdonald lecture on Tom Hood. Mamma and I sat on the platform within two feet of him, and Mamma liked it. stood up both going in and coming out. Changed two books. Mrs. Stanton, a pleasant, short, excessively fat little old lady with white curls, and her daughter Hattie, who had come out in special compliment to me, and whom I was therefore expected to entertain. (Harriet Stanton) [Visit of Mrs. Stanton & her daughter Hattie] Nov 3rd Sunday. Mrs. and Miss Stanton were here, and were shown over the house and then driven into Boston. Made a little cake and wrote to Kitty and Aunt Elizabeth. Nov. 4th Monday. Took Real Folks to school for Fanny Benedict. We had our music lesson of course. Papa went to make a speech, and we all went to bed earlyNov. 5th 149 149 Tuesday. Failed!! twice!!! in History!!!!!!!!!!! The first time in two years! I took Fanny Benedict out for Geography, got into the dressing room, told her not to speak to me, and just cried till I didn't dare to cry any more, for fear it would show when I went into the other room; and I'd not have it do that for anything. And I came within an inch of another failure in Geography. You see Fanny had been telling me about her father, who got his death of consumption with Sherman, when he marched to the sea; and how he had been three days and nights up to his waist in water- I can't go over the whole of it; and how she came up here and all the other girls had fathers - she fairly made me cry. I longed to hug her but I only squeezed her hand a little; and expect sympathy is bad for the brains, for I failed, as I said; and dreamed all night [h] of failures and marks and tardiness; and thought of that con-cerned history the first thing in the morning when I woke. [*civil war soldier*] Nov. 6th Wednesday. Felt decidedly joyful, in spite of those abominable failures yesterday, at the thought of hearing Robert Collyer Books, Ledger and supper disposed of, Lucy arrived at the office, and we all went to the music hall, which was crammed of course. We had pretty good seats. The lecture was "Our Folks and Other Folks" and was good. A big piece of it Woman's Rights too. After it was over we went into the dressing room where he spoke to them and shook hands with us. Mamma said how good it was to have had the chance to s[t]ay all that for the women and he said "Warn't it now?" and [* Robert Collyer & Woman's Rts.*] 150 told Mama it was like summer to see her face, and we went out home in a pouring rain, and walked up through floods. But the sight of him was as good as the smell of black birch; and his very hat and coat were delightful to look upon. [He] Lucy gave her opinion that seen near by he is as rugged as a pine fence. And I agreed. That is a grand good fellow, whatever anyone may say to the contrary. Nov. 7th Thursday. It rained, and there was but one session. I sorted rags, did chores and practiced. Papa went to N.Y. so I read Nicholas Nickleby in the evening. Was good, and tried, really. [Nov Nov 8th] Lucy and I had our feet soaked at night, and were dosed with tansy tea, tho' I for one didn't need it. i drank to the health of Roberts Kidd and Collyer. Ugh how bitter it was! Nov. 8th Friday. The cow, not being tied, got out of her stall during the night, ate about a barrel full of apples, poked her nose into the corn, and everything else; so this morning the barn was in a sweet mess. A splendid day, after the atrocious rainy weather we have had. Practiced some, and was good. Nov. 9th Saturday. Declamations up in the hall. Sadie Wilson and Hattie Burdett, Sam King and another Creature, and all the primary schools. I had to speak [F]first, which was villainous; but I did it some how; and it wasn't specially dreadful after all. But Eddy Jenkins was excused (I guess because Mr. H. saw he was sure to break down,151 and Mary Emma Ryder, after going very well through the first part of her short piece without moving a muscle, stopped, said "Mr. Horne, I cant go on;" came back to her seat, cried, sobbed and shook, with as little noise as possible, and nearly had hysterics. They didn't all speak. Tried to be good. Emma came, and was duly hugged. We all went up to the den to see a great fire in Boston, the blaze of which lit up the city, steeples and statehouse, and the roar of which was plainly to be heard here, four miles away. After much trotting up and downstairs in dishabille, I finally went to bed. [* Boston fire*] Nov. 10th Sunday. Mike and the girls brought home from church and mass news of the fire, which still burns. We went down to Fields corner to post a letter, and smelt the smoke very strongly; and stopped at the Carters and got a paper and some particulars. The glare is not ablaz tonight. Nov. 11th Monday. My eyes were very bad. Hattie read the History lesson to me and so I learned it. In the afternoon all the scholars in our room went to Emma Danley's funeral but Perrin, Coleman and Craigin. They held high carnival in the school room, I looking on, till Mr. H. came back and came down on Coleman. There were no lessons in the P.M. Nov. 12th Tuesday. My eyes were very bad, and I stopped going to school. Was sorry, as I hate to lose my place in the class, and don't 152 exactly see how I am to make up the lessons; but of course I must save my eyes at all costs. Worked in the house in the morning, and in the garden in the P.M. Went down to Neponset with Emma in the evening, and got some crochetting cotton. Nov. 13th Wednesday. Made some apple jelly. [Read] Glanced over a ledger which Mamma would not let me read. Worked. Papa got home, bringing hickory and walnuts, and apples from our dear old West Bloomfield place, making me horribly homesick. Nov. 14th Thursday. Made pear and apple sauce, worked, longed to read, and read some of my scribblings to Lucy. Comforted myself by sitting on the floor by the upper hall window and cuddling "Nature and Life," which I could not read, during the dusk of the evening. Emma got home from Boston very wet. Read my Ledger and made my eyes smart. Nov. 15th Friday. Emptied the two great vases and unpacked Mamma's writing desk; was pretty busy with chores, and spells of piano in between. Finished and sent my letter to Aunt Ellen. Nicholas Nickleby. Nov. 16th Saturday. Went into Boston to Dr. Derly. He asked all sorts of questions concerning my general conduct and character; said there was no danger; that I had overstrained my eyes; that resting might - or might not - restore me their use, but that he would advise my being put under treatment.153 (Emma is writing for one on account of my eyes, but she is not responsible for the grammar or sentiments; but she is accountable for the spelling and capitals.) Parents being going to St Louis for a week nothing was to be done till they came back. We, that is, Emma and myself went in together and got several glimpses of the burnt district, but were prevent by soldiers from entering those enchanting regions But mamma and I afterward had a fine view of it from the upper window of Hovey's store. It has a very dim volcanic look with piles of masonry emerging from a sea of smoke and fire engines spouting promiscuously among them. Emma (who is behaving in a very aggravating and blotting this horribly,) got herself vaccinated in three places and it is to be hoped some of them will take. Nov. 17th Sunday. Passed a decidedly dull morning making jelly, and unable to read. In the afternoon went over to St Mary's Chapel, leaving those two vagabonds Emma and Lucy at home; I did not like the looks of Dr. Mills at all. The sermon I thought good, only rather too much of the sit-still-and-let-God-have-his-own-way kind. Fanny Benedict walked home with an ugly boy whom I learned from Fanny Brown (walking home with her young gentleman,) to be the great-irresistible, Walter Brock. And that vicious looking puffy-faced little negro was described to me by her as "handsome"!! Truly there is no accounting for tastes. Nicholas Nickleby. Nov. 18th Monday. Papa and Mamma started early in the 154 morning for St Louis. I strung the ivies, made jelly, churned, loitered dismally through a great part of the afternoon with nothing to do. Did up the supper dishes; was musical in the parlor with Emma and Lucy in the evening. Emma is the most [angelic] aggravating of cousins. Oh you wretch!! Tuesday. Nov. 19th. Cleared the bushes of the dead morning-glory vines; Lucy and I made cake which was intended for jelly cake, but which became cake minus the jelly. Went down to the school-house at four o'clock with a note for Fanny Benedict, expressing my opinion of that Brock boy. Hattie was monitor of course, and when the files had gone out dragged me upstairs into the school-room. therein I created more commotion during the ten minutes I sat there, than in all my career before in that place. I never supposed I was much liked, but changed my mind on the subject. Hattie clutched me on one side, to make me correct her composition while from the other Fanny Benedict poured maledictions upon me for what I had said of her beloved, while Mr. Horne and Miss Tolman smiled amiably upon one from the front. walked home with Hattie and Lulu Mann and Emma Adams, had a little fun and came home. Nov. 20th Wednesday Made cake on my own hook, and devoured my Ledger when it came which was worse for my eyes. Went to ride with Emma and Lucy over to Milton, and was scared nearly out of my life, and was half frozen. Lucy read Nicholas aloud. Emma is an angel! Nov. 21st Thursday. Made some little cakes in the morning and in the afternoon walked over to Milton by a round about way, and came back by the straight one. Emma brought home some dates. Nicholas Nickleby.155 Nov. 22nd Friday. Emma brought home some more dates, but did not fulfill any other of the small commissions I gave her. She thought she had brought home three lemons, but they proved three oranges to my great disappointment. Nov. 23rd Saturday. Wend down to Hattie Mann's in the P.M. and was received with acclamations. Emma Adams and Annie Phipps were there, and we played Honor Bright, and there was a good deal of squealing and blushing, and I got quite worked up, though of course there was nothing very dreadful to be got out of me. Nov. 24th Sunday. Went down to Hattie's, after bolting my breakfast, and wearing my purple dress for the first time. We got Emma Adams and met Mary Fifield, and went to the Sunday School. It was a pleasant carpeted room with benches, and after a sermon or address from Mr. Adams, the benches were turned face to face as you turn the seats in the cars, and each class took possession of two. Our class, consisting of Hattie, Emma, Annie Phips and M. Fifield and two girls I don't know, declared with one voice that they didn't know a word of their lesson, so the teacher proposed to talk about Thanksgiving. This proposal was received with favor by the class, and he stated his views of Thanksgiving, and we contradicted him. He enjoyed it, though I didn't like the teacher's looks at all. 156 After that we went into church and sat through a stupid sermon. We walked home with Addie Calender, who asked me about the Molly thing and told me of a very fine compliment which had been paid me on that score by a gentleman who said I had the true poetical genius - if I wrote it. She refused to tell me his name until I gave her a copy of the piece, but said he was about fifty years old, and otherwise aggravated my curiosity by hints. Hattie told her of my ems, such as sewing on Sunday. She was horrified and incredulous and we had quite a shrieking time going home. Monday Nov. 25th Got some moss in the pasture above the school-house and made two small ferneries with it. Left a "Young Folks" at Addie Calendar's and learned the name of the mysterious gentleman; Dr. Fifield. Got some honey at Field's Corner. Nov. 26th Tuesday. Made a lemon pie. Lay in wait for Agnes Reed after school and went down to her house to inquire after a girl. Mrs. Reed knew of none. She did not seem half as terrific as Agnes Winney's account of her had led me to expect. Nov. 27th Wednesday. Read a Ledger which came yesterday, and horrified Lucy by something I said in the religious way as we cleared off the dinner dishes. Nov. 28th Thursday. Thanksgiving. Papa, mamma, Emma and I took a long ride, and came back to our dinner at three o'clock. Dined off my massacred roosters, besides cranberry sauce and squash pie, et cetera. Papa and I had cider and toast in the evening and Papa read the Newcomb aloud. The story has by this time become hopelessly complicated. Did several chores.Nov. 29th 159 Friday. A dismal day. Snowd. (Emma is responsible for spelling and did that out of pure cussedness) part of the day. Practiced, and did chores. Emma slept with me. Nov. 30th Saturday. Emma and I went into Boston and shopped for a pair of gloves and shoes for me, and did some other errands. Dec. 1st Sunday. Moved down into the lower room Mr. Blanchard called and Papa made absurd demonstrations of wrath. Dec. 2 Monday. Read and practiced from notes and tried my eyes and decided they were better. Dec. 3d Tuesday. Eyes were worse again. Went to sit through the history but only sat through the first hour of an examination by Mr. Adams. Dec. 4th Wednesday. Carried down the little black and white kitten to Mrs. Ross's in my arms. It was dreadfully scared by the railroad trains and struggled under my cloak, but I placed it safely under Mrs. Reed's care, and went on to Hattie Mann's, being joined on the way by Mary Fifield on the way. Hattie taught Mary, who had brought along some worsted, to make those starry mats, and I learned at the same time. Dec. 5th Thursday. The switch man at the station was killed by a train. Went into Boston with mamma and bought two ounces of shaded green worsted for mats, 158 found at the office a letter from Miss Andrews asking me to come Thursday. Accordingly I bolted home, bolted my dinner, packed my bag in a hurry, and went back to Boston through a snow-storm. Mamma escorted me to the [Boston and M] Eastern depot and I was dispatched to Miss Andrews right side up with care. Got there all safe, walked up to the house and was received with rejoicing. Indeed, as Miss Andrews said I was the Prodigal Son; or as I maintained the Prodigal Daughter. Dec. 6th Friday. Miss A. kept me busy and did not let me read much. Under her guidance I began parlor holder, modelled after a very striking mosaic patchwork one which she had made as a Christmas present. We made apple-snow and chicken-stuffing. Miss A. is a regular goldmine as regards Christmas ideas. She suggested making court-plaster cases for some of my folks, and we sallied forth to buy materials. We stopped at Nina Stone's house and rang the bell several times, but no one came and we gave it up in despair. On the way I told Miss Andrews all about Mr. Collyer; and she made some remarks. She knows too, after her own fashion. We [got the] did our own shopping, went home and set to work on the court-plaster cases. Mr. Hale met us while we were out, and I stood as stiff as a ramrod while he was with us, to his great admiration; for the first remark he made when I was out of the room was how straight I had grown. He and Miss Emily and Miss Andrews and I went to a microscopic and calcium light exhibition. Nina was there and she and I sat together during the exhibition, which was very interesting. The lecture showed magnified bed-bugs, fleas, jellyfish and various other things, animate and inanimate. Miss R. had told me how much Nina was improved and I was rather disappointed, for during the half159 hour or so we sat together before the lecture began she talked of hardly anything but her numerous flirtations and an old French Professor who fell in love with her while she was abroad. Dec. 7th Saturday Sewed some more on my holder. Nina came over as I had asked her to., bringing the numbers of our old school paper. We hunted them all over for the piece I wrote about Wild Azalias as Nina and Miss A. both urged me to send it to the Young Folks, but one leaf was gone and the thing was minus; so I went over to Nina's and copied it from her copy. She showed one her cabinet of curiosities and likewise a beautiful picture of Aurora which made me break the 10th commandment on the spot. Mr. Hale was at the station to see me off when I went, though whether Miss Andrews might not have been the chief attraction I cant say. Mamma met me at the Boston end of the line with the carriage and drove me home to Dorchester. Dec. 8th Sunday. Got up early, and bolted something that stood for breakfast and departed for Hattie Mann's, and then so with her to Sunday-School. I had not meant to go to the sermon afterwards but Addie Calendar told me there was a nice preacher instead of Mr. Hale, so I did. The minister reminded me of Uncle Henry Lawrence only that he has yellowish hair and beard and not so much of the calter. He preached a very good sermon from the text "What the Lord speaketh that I must do," about our consciences. Made apple snow, but it was not so good as Miss A's. Emma is a beast. Dec. 9th Monday Made Mince Meat - For Pies (Emma is responsible for capitals and my only comfort is that these reflect eternal disgrace upon her). 160 Got to reading Man and Wife, and forgot all about school till evening. Newcomes. Emma is an atrocious clod hopping tadpole, and I have taken to writing myself in sheer self defense from her atrocious alterations and misrepresentations. Posterity, if you find any thing surprisingly vile and vulgar in her writing, don't lay it to my charge, I beg. Dec. 10 Tuesday. The anniversary of our house-burning. Sat through the history recitation and returned Hattie Mann's Sunday School book which I had accidentally carried home from church. Made pound cake. Emma is a traitor, a liar and a Villain. These blots be on her Chignon. I have no words bad enough for her. I mean to ink her nose. (a scuffle; partial success.) Dec. 11 Wednesday. Went down to Hattie Manns in the P.M. and was shown about the making of my green mats Dec. 12 Thursday. School. Fought Emma in her chamber, and retired to bed wounded by the wires of her bustle, which I had used as an offensive weapon. Lay awake till very late. Dec. 13 Friday. School. Worked on my green starry mats. A good self conceited person, Mrs. Fletcher, who lectures, was here. [*Mrs Fletcher*] Dec. 14th Saturday. Mrs. F. still here. Went into Boston, and enjoyed hearing George William Curtis lecture at the institute of Technology. All through the first part of the lecture I was worried [*Geo Wm Curtis*]161 to think who Mr. Curtis looked like. It is Mr. Hale, and the resemblance is very odd and extremely striking. I like the effect of an audience of ladies very much; there is a pleasant little rustle and whisper and friendliness and - indescribable sich. Dec. 15th Sunday. Hurried off to Sunday school with only a slice and a half of bread for breakfast. [There was a new minister and I] Did not stay to church. Took a long ride with Mrs. Fletcher and my parents. Dec. 16th Monday. Went into Boston, and bought Christmas books with Papa. Good Words for the Young was not to be had, and had to be sent for. Mama took me to Dr. Safford, whose office is right opposite Mrs. Whitney's in Boylston place to be vaccinated. She is a very small slim pleasant woman, and when she had vaccinated me felt of my belt to see how I was dressed and greatly approved. She thought it was due to a "strong minded mother" till I told her the contrary. I stayed to the Ladies' Club tea and discussion and enjoyed both. I like to hear people with brains who like to think discuss. Dr. Clarke was speaking of the weakness of girls. I griped Dr. Safford's hand with all my might, and delighted her with my muscle. The supper was very nice, and I fraternized with a little Kitty Tolman who at the supper table addressed me and said she thought she might 162 speak to me as I had smiled at her before supper. We were very friendly together, and she was very earnest with me to come and see her, and I kissed her goodbye. We drove out home through a snow storm, I having had a splendid time, and decided that if one smiles at people they are very apt to smile back again, and that there may be other poor little cats shying about in strange garrets who relish a friendly look as much as I do. Dec. 17th Tuesday. Mrs. Fletcher went away. Worked at Christmas presents. Dec. 18th Wednesday. Mama went away in the afternoon and I howled because I was forbidden to sew on court plaster cases, but got leave. The Newcomes has got exciting. Papa read about Lady Clara Pulleyn fainting at sight of Jack Belsize. I sympathized with poor Jack very much; but if I had been in his place catch me letting her marry that detestable Barnes; I would have eloped with her and married her out of hand. Dec. 19th Thursday. Alone all day with everybody gone. In the evening Mama drove Emma and me in a sleigh down to a literary society in Neponset. It was rather dull, assembled in two very small rooms. There was a dull essay, and then a lady read Virginia and Mrs. Stowe, and candy was passed round, and Emma was unanimously elected a member by a vote of about163 three hands half held up, everyone else being engaged chattering. They wanted me to become a member, but I excused myself with some difficulty. Dec. 20 Friday. Stormy. Emma taught me how to make worsted balls. Worked at Christmas presents. The Newcomes. Dec. 21st Saturday. Heard Mr. Higginson lecture with Emma at the Technology, and did not very much admire it. Bought various Christmas things with her assistance, it being my last chance before I go to N.J. and came out late. Met the sleigh before we reached the Turnpike and drove out home. Newcomes, and worked on presents. Dec. 22nd Sunday. Last day of Sunday school. Papa drove me down in the sleigh. I delight in the smooth swift motion. Pilgrim day. Worked hard at Christmas presents, and took a long cold ride with our folks. Oh it is the coldest weather! Dec. 23rd Monday. Emma came into my room early, and presented me with a silver and green cornucopia, bidding me to think of her whenever I dropped anything into it. Went into Boston thro' a snowstorm and was started by Papa for N.Y. Rode all day, the first part of the way thro' a snow storm, and got to N.Y. a good deal behind time I saw nothing of Aunts, and it was a huge empty Coliseum of a depot, Visit to Dr Emily for Christmas. 164 so I got into the 4th Ave. cars, which stood in the depot clamorously demanding passengers - I mean the drivers did - and demanded to be put out at Cooper Institute. As the car moved out of the station, Aunt Ellen got in, having given me up. I left with her at Cooper's, sending a telegram north to say I had arrived right side up, and went to the infirmary. I found Uncle George and Aunt Emily getting a private supper in the back parlor, and I partook. Dec. 24th Tuesday. Worked a little on Christmas presents and saw Cornelia and Hannah. Uncle G. had said Neelie's forehead was grown over with hair to the eyebrows, and that she formed the connecting link between man and monkey, etc; most atrocious Baron Munchausen lies, as I discovered. I believed him, and with what my parents had said, was prepared for[med] something monstrous. I was very pleasantly surprised on being ushered into the nursery to see pretty babies, one white, one brown, the latter being no more a monkey than Uncle G.'s self, nor as much; and having all the forehead she needs. She made friends with me at once. Nannie was shyer, but did so presently. Aunt Emily, the Nurse, the babies and I went out to Somerville. Nannie cried with terror at getting into the hack, and had to be tenderly guided and guarded all the way but Nina stared around her with large round black eyes,165 somewhat wondering but entirely plucky. I had charge of her part of the way, and she took my hand and trotted along stouth where she could walk, pushing at a market basket ahead of us which impeded the way, with an energy delightful to see. When she had to be carried in the crowd she let herself be hauled along just as it happened, in a most unceremonious manner, without a howl, only an occasional kick. Uncle Sam met and drove us up. At supper, just as U. S. had begun to carve, the table began to slope down toward the middle from the ends, and crockery and lamps and all came down with a prodigious crash and a horrible mingling of milk and kerosene on the carpet. Uncle S. seized a lamp from the wreck and blew it out; all was confusion. Happily it was good kerosene and did not explode; but we had to wait some time for our supper. The accident was caused by a defective leaf. Hung up our stockings. Dec. 25th Wednesday. Christmas day, F. and I got our stockings and opened them in bed. We found some goodies and a slate pencil in each. About noon Aunt Ellen and Uncle G. arrived, and then we were let in to the tree. I got some notepaper from F. a drawing book and some smaller things. Likewise a book called Insects at home, which the grown folks read with interest and I viewed with profound disgust. 166 My taste does not lie at all in the direction of Natural History, and I was greatly disappointed tho' I tried not to show it. After the tree came dinner, and then Aunt Emily and Uncle G. went away. We had games and snapdragon in the evening; the snapdragon was a success, the games not much. And between you and me and the post, it was not a very nice Christmas. F. and I were neither grown ups nor children, but miserable mediums, and bewailed ourselves accordingly. But still, it was Christmas. Dec. 26 Thursday. It snowed all day hard, and Aunt Ellen and the babies could not get away. Consequently the house was over-run with babies. I read and practiced and told some story to Edie and Grace. In the evening U.S. read some fairy stories out of "Is it true?" aloud. Aunt Nettie says Vanity Fair is a dreadful book, dismal and horrible, without a single good person in it. I always supposed it was rather funny. Dec. 27 Friday. Snowed up. Said to be the deepest snow for 15 years. One person got to Somerville, and brought back news that 3 trains had got through. Read and practiced and told more story. U.S. read Isaac T. Hopper aloud. They have a custom here I like very much; evening exercise. When the lamps are first lighted U.S. and Aunt N. percuss one another - she told me to say at home she beat U.S. every day - and occasionally she makes a dive and percusses 167 on of the young ones, who dont like it all. Dec. 28 Saturday. O such a quarrelsome set! Dug a snow house outside the kitchen door. U.S. read more Isaac T. in the evening. Dec. 29th Sunday. Flo tried to get to Sunday School through the snow. We had church in the parlor. Read and played. More Isaac T. in the evening. U.S. got me talking about Mr. Collyer and things, and I wished I hadn't. I generally do wish so afterward. Stiff and sore from snow digging yesterday. Dec. 30 Monday. Ate between meals and had the stomach ache. F. and sisters fought like Kilkenny cats as usual. Talked over old times, scrapes and misdeeds with F. When Edie intruded on us we talked a chow-chow of all sorts of languages. Dec. 31st Tuesday. Rode down to the station in the sleigh with U.S. Aunt Nettie, and Edie, and went off with U.S. and E. U.S. saw me onto the Orange horsecars, and I went out to Roseville. It was so changed I should not have known it. I inquired for the Hoopers, and found them. They live in what used to be the white violet. swamp behind Bank St. Now it's all built up with French roofs. The Hoopers jubilated over me, and fed me, and Nellie and I tried to make much of one another. She is much as she used to be. 168 Mrs. Hooper talked to me, spoke of Mr. Collyer, then in N.Y. and said some things of him, for which I could have hugged her. That his life shamed people who believed as she did, etc. I had but a couple of hours to stay, and Nelly went down to the station with me. I went round by our house hoping against hope for a sight of Purr; but got none, and seeing it only made me want to cry. I got safely to Second Ave. and was only insulted once. In the evening the old folks went to hear Proff Tundall, and I read Keats and played blocks with Edie. She and I went up to bed, but when I had lighted her gas and started for my own little room, I opened the door, heard a cough and breathing and hastily retreated. Evidently there was someone in my bed. I told E. my intention of going down and sitting up till my aunts came home; but she flatly refused to go to bed with a burglar in the next room, and began to put on her boots again. In desperation lighted a match, and went to see who it was. As I softly opened the door a head arose from the bed-clothes and a voice inquired, "Am I in the wrong spot?" I told her she was, and she said she was Miss Crane, and had mistaken the room - was on the wrong floor. She departed, and I pulled off the sheets - I was not going to sleep in them after goodness knew who - and went to sleep between the blankets. Aunt Em. told me next day169 1873 need not be alarmed, as Miss Crane was a nurse and had no disease. I forgot to say that I had made Aunt Emily stethoscope me, to see if there was anything the matter with my lungs, which she did after some teasing, with great parade, [after] Edie looking on with terror stricken and breathless interest. Jan. 1st 1873. Wednesday. Rode all day on the cars with Edie going home. Dozed through a good part of the journey. Had my seat to myself most of the way, but when the rear car broke down the people from it had to be seated in the other cars and one big man sat down by me. Papa and Uncle Stone met us at the Boston depot and drove us out home in the sleigh. My head ached hard. Mamma was glad to see us. The Hoopers told us of a notice in the Herald that Mamma would not lecture this winter because her infant son was but 4 weeks old, and wanted to congratulate me. When I told Papa he said he wished it was true. So said all of us but Mamma. Poor little Anna is ill again, and Emma cannot come back. Jan. 2nd Thursday. Took Edie down to school and presented her to Mr. Horne, who asked her some questions, and will put her in Miss Boynton's room. Did house-chores, and kept house with Edie, all the folks being away. Jan. 3d Friday Edie and I worked under Mamma's direction in the A.M. making beds and doing various things. Read in the afternoon. Jan. 4th Saturday. In the morning we had our first lesson in English History, and I think I shall like it very much. Afterwards went into Boston with Edie to get her vaccinated. She was much scared and I was revaccinated before her, as the last did not take and Dr. Safford offered, as I thought it might give E. courage. But it didn't - only scared her the more I think; however, she got through it, and brought home a dreadful account of its hurting. We forgot the certificate of vaccination and had to go back for it. We lunched at Marston's on strawberry sauce and fried oysters. I got Charles Lamb's Essays of Elia from the Atheneum, and we came out home. It's queer how many little bits about C. Lamb I have come across since I read about him in Mr. Collyer's "Root and Flower", and then noticed. Jan. 5th Sunday. Read a good deal, my eyes being well, and practiced. Washed all over. Practiced. Jan. 6th Monday. Took Edie down to school and delivered her to Mr. Horne. Went and recited English History in the P.M. and when Edie was let out we went down to Fields Corner after some yeast and had her weighed. She weighs 92. I hope she will gain a deal before she goes back. Newcomes. Jan. 7th Tuesday. Worked nearly all the time I was at home and went after more yeast. Got some pickled limes. School. Jan. 8th Wednesday. School. Uncle George appeared in the morning. I have been giving Edie music lessons, and as she was was eager to try a tune I let her begin on "Mary to the Savior's tomb," which is easy. We are going to keep it a secret from Papa, and surprise him. Newcomes.171 Jan. 9th Thursday. School. Walked over to North Quincy with Edie, and slept better after it than I have for some nights past; from which I opine that open air walking is good for insomnia. O what a word. Jan. 10th Friday. A natural philosophy lesson. I think it is going to be very interesting. Next lesson Mr. H. is actually going to "Weigh us the weight of the wind" - the air at least, and even gas. I never supposed gas had any weight, as [I] it goes up. But I find the air buoys it up as water does a bit of wood; and without the air the gas would fall down like the wood. After school got my sled, which had gone to be mended, and when Edie was let out we went into our yard and we rode down hill. Papa and Uncle George came out and rode some and Papa was determined to start us on a trip. Now Papa preferred to go down one way, so as to cross the ice among the appletrees, and E. and I liked to go the other way; so he gave us a tremendous start in the way we did not want to go, in spite of my outcries and protestations. As neither Edie nor I could steer, that happened which might have been expected; near the end of our course we ran against an apple tree, and Edie, who sat in front, bruised her leg. But she walked up the hill, took another trip or two, and then we went in. Edie's foot hurt, and I found her crying, and Papa, trying to comfort her, doubtless feeling like a murderer. We doctored her with molasses candy internally, and hot water and arnica externally; which proved of use. Jan. 11th Saturday. Went into Boston to buy mittens and The Life that Now Is. Sadie came into the depot and talked to me, and 172 I found I did not care for her any more. Emma and some of the others came in. Emma said she saw me striding along swinging my arms, and waved her muff at me, but I would not look at her, and that she did not believe I would have stopped if Robert Collyer had been behind me. I said "Wouldn't I?" Got the mittens, and inquired the price of fur caps, as Mamma had ordered me, which was a severe trial to my feelings; but seeing that I ought, and that I was going to buy Mr. Collyer's book, I thought I must, and did. Then I bought it ($1.50) and brought it home, and showed Mamma and Edie. I mystified Edie at first; told her it was something good, and so it was, I'm sure. Jan. 12th Sunday. Down in the Slough of Despond again. I did think I was through that. Mr. Collyer pretty effectually pulled me out before, and I went and read The Life that Now is, and was pulled out again for the time being. But for [Influence of Dr. Collyer] Mr. Collyer and those two books of his, I don't know what I should do. I really felt as if I was praying that night when I said God bless him. Walked nearly to Milton with Edie. Jan. 13th Monday. English History, and tiff with Edie in the evening. Still in the Slough of Despond. It appears that last nights pull out was only for the time being. I felt dreadfully; went into the parlor in the evening, and down on my knees in the dark, praying and crying for help, with a dreadful feeling that after all I might be praying and crying to nothing, and no one anywhere to hear me.173 Jan. 14th Tuesday. Did not have to go to school. Felt a little better, but still in trouble. Mamma at dinner told Edie and me a story about a slave woman, Margaret Gardiner, who [*slave story, Margaret Garner not Gardiner, see Liberator*] killed one of her little girls and tried to kill the other when she found they were to be recaptured. And Mamma went down to the court room when her case was to be tried, and a Mr. Somebody - Joliffe, I think - asked leave of the court for Mamma to speak, and she spoke. The court stood breatless, and the slaveholder sweat as Mamma said she never saw a man before; and when Mamma ended and came down, he promised her Margaret Gardiner should never be sold into slavery again; but he lied and sold her in New Orleans. The boat she was on was run into by another, and when the water rose where she sat chained, holding her baby, she let it float away and drown; but she was saved - and sold. I don't wonder that man sweat - I did as Mamma told - at least Edie says so; and I know I felt like it. She said that when they asked her if she offered the woman a knife (she had asked her if she had one) she said yes; and in her speech said "If I had the law against me, and the church against me, and the Constitution of the Country against me, and the Public Sentiment against me, etc., I would tear open my veins with my teeth and let the earth that had never injured me drink my blood, before I would be sold back into slavery!" Mamma got excited again as she went over it, and wished she could remember what she had said. I thought it at first rather dreadful to kill her children, but, Mamma thought it was grand of her; and 174 especially to kill the girls. The boys would not be so badly off as slaves. "Ah, Margaret Gardiner," [*Garner*] she said, "you will be one of the tallest angels in heaven, for you were one of the bravest women here." "Mamma," said I, "I think you will be tall in heaven." And so I do. In the evening reading I brought in some codfish and vinegar, and papa shut the book and refused to read, unless it was taken out, and opened the window at the risk of freezing the geraniums, and made a great fuss. As he wouldn't go on reading, and the open window made the room cold, Mamma came out into the dining room, and told Edie and me, about Mr. Collyer, some things we never heard before; and finally we went back and the reading was finished. Jan. 15th Wednesday. Natural Philosophy. I locked Edie into the parlor to make her do her practicing, and she wouldn't; then I went to do mine, taking a cloak and a book in case she should lock me in, which she did. Afterward, she softly unlocked the door, but not being ready to come out, I stayed and finished my practicing. Jan. 16th Thursday. English History. Kept house in the morning, and read a good deal. It didn't hurt my eyes, and they are certainly better. During my usual evening squabble with Edie she hit me a blow on the nose which made it ache till I went to bed, and it is still tender. I have taken to rubbing Mamma's knee in the evening. It is good for her rheumatism, and she sleeps better for it. Newcomes. Oh, that book makes me so savage sometimes!175 Jan 17th Friday . Furiously rainy, Natural Philosophy in the A. M. Worked most of the rest of the day. Newcomes Jan 18th Saturday. Worked. Wind, hail and rain, in spite of which Emma and Lucy Chadburne arrived. She has been to Mrs. Whitneys but Mrs. W. was sick and could not see her. Newcomes. A scrubbage with E. for poetry. Jan 19th Sunday. Read and practiced. Went to church and looked at pulpit from which Robert Collyer has preached, and tried to decide which was the pew where I sat; while I waited for the service to begin; for I got there a great deal too early. I has some idea of going up and touching the bible on the pulpit He read from but didn't quite dare. The sermon was unutterably stupid, though good, but Mr. Horne and Carrie Littlefield spoke to me, as Esther Whiton invited me to sit in her pew, and this singing was good, especially Nearer my God to Thee. Jan. 20 Monday. Went to Eng. History. Mr. H. apparently had a dreadful headache. I pitied him and hoped it was not small pox. But of course he has been vaccinated. Music from Emma. Jan. 21st Tuesday. Went to see Dr. Safford. She showed me no end of wonderful and queer things; pictures of birds a, soup tureen in the form of a turtle, white elephants, and idols of all sorts and kinds. I looked at these last with much interest, especially the Siamese, on account of Mrs. Leonowens. How could they worship such hideous things! They might have made prettier ones while they were about it. I couldn't describe one ninetieth 176 part of what I saw, so I wont try; but she likewise showed me a section of an eyelid through a microscope, and it was really very pretty. I got home late for dinner, with a bad headache. A letter from Kitty in the evening; She has been reading Petronel Fleming, whom she describes as one of the kind who like men best who are able to thrash them, but refrain out of consideration for their weakness - like Doris, I suppose - and says she expects me to be one of the Petronel kind when I marry her!!. My first impulse was to pen a second thunderbolt even fiercer than the first, and again break the engagement. I took Edie into the hall, and knocked her down seven times. I meditated, and finally decided to marry and disappoint her. Jan. 22nd Wednesday. Philosophy, with an experiment in capillary attraction. I promised Hattie Mann to go down and play chess with her in the afternoon, and forgot all about it. Went after yeast with Edie, and was florally inclined in the P. M.. Dr. Safford encouraged the idea of a greenhouse, and I studied Vick and the Three Little Spades. Edie and I had a squabble in the third story for the key of the cedar closet, and she gave me (unintentionally) a kick on the cheeck which nearly broke my jaw. Emma read the Newcomes. Jan. 23rd Thursday. Papa got home from N. Y. Hattie Mann invited me to play chess with her, and I forgot to go. Edie and I went for yeast. Emma and Edie got to plaguing me, and I, thinking of Mr. Collyer, blushed so furiously and to astonish both them177 and myself. Emma evidently thought [said] there was something up, and oh how they did go at me! Jan. 24th Friday. A furious storm of drifting snow, through which Edie and I fought our way to school. Made piecrust for the mince meat, and completed the $5. list from Vick's with Emma's help. Newcomes. Jan. 25th Saturday. I sent off a Subscription to the Household for Miss Andrews, and much gossipping was stirred up by the mysterious letter. Emma guessed it was Fields and Osgood; Mamma Robert Collyer, which last guess much upset me. I asked her afterward what on earth made her guess that, and she said she thought [?] might have read something of his (she caught me reading his sermons a few evenings ago) so good that I wanted to write and thank him for it. As if I should have dared to write to him! All the folks rode into Boston leaving me to keep house; and Hattie and [Lu?e] Mann came up to see me, and played and borrowed books. No Newcomes. Made apple sauce. Jan. 26th Sunday. Went to church with Emma and Edie. Worked and read. Jan 27th Monday. Snow. History examination, working reading and practicing. Jan 28th Tuesday. At home all day. Papa and Mamma away in the evening. Emma set Edie and me a puzzle and we talked and told riddles. Emma spoke of the sermon she heard last Sunday, and abused 178 'Pamela'. But I would rather be the author of ten books like Pamela than one poem like Don Juan. I don't think the shockingness in Pamela - the calling ugly things by their own ugly names - is half so bad as in things where they may have less open indecency, but where they treat it all jokingly, and laugh at terrible sins - actually try to make them seem comical! That's what drives me furious. I wish they would suppress Byron's poems as they did Mrs. Woodhull's paper. I'm sure they are worse. And as I undressed I wondered where Lord Byron was then, and whether he was sorry yet. He will have a dreadful time of it when he does begin to repent. As if it was any business of mine! Jan. 29th Wednesday. Went to Natural Philosophy, and though bright, it was so cold Edie cried all the way down to school. W[h]ent into the city with Emma, bought a corn colored and black necktie and a net, changed some library books and came home. Jan 30th Thursday. Began going to school all day. I don't think I shall be able to keep it up; but Mamma (gone to Maine) wants me to try. Jan. 31st Friday. After school came home with Edie and Emelia Sophia dressed us for the sociable. We met Hattie Mann, by agreement, outside the church, but didn't go in for some time. I got so cold that at Hattie's suggestion I went into the dark empty church to get warm; but it was cold and I stole up to the pulpit and kissed the big bible Mr. Collyer read from, and came out. We finally went 179 in, but the people did not come till later, most of them, and supper was not over till about 9, when we came away, just as the fun was beginning, after I had eaten too much and not had the jolliest possible time. I was introduced to a pleasant sweet looking girl, Nettie Young, whom I expect to like; and as Edith hunted for her rubbers I watched through the door the dancing that had just begun, and oh! to see Mr. Horne whirling about on one leg! We girls speculated on the probability of his having one of his awful headaches tomorrow. Came home in the dark with a small pen knife open in my hand in expectation of robbers and murderers, scared at every sound. Papa and Mama got home. Feb. 1st Saturday. School. Edie in a sick and stomach-acheic condition after last night's disippation, and I - have collapsed; though not badly. Edith and I went down to Mrs. Sullivan's and took her the money for her last washings Worked and read. Feb. 2nd Sunday. Went down to bible class, but Hattie Mann was not there according to appointment, though Carrie Littlefield was, and I sat in her pew at church. I didn't like the bible class much, nor particularly the sunday school afterwards. And as for the sermon after that, I did not understand much of it, and what I did in general I disagreed with. Emma was there. When I had walked about half way home 180 (bearing a purloined hymnbook) I found I had forgotten my cloud, and had to go back for it. Read and made some candy. Edie was inspired by the sight of my proceedings to try too. Mine was a success; hers not much. Newcomes. Feb. 3d Monday. School. Newcomes in the evening I believe but I have nearly forgotten what happened, which shows it was nothing important. Feb. 4th Tuesday. Mary Emma Ryder took me out to History with her. Lulu Mann came up home with me after school and made a call, and took home a couple of books. Feb. 5th Wednesday. Went into Boston and got "Margaret & her Bridesmaids" again from the library. That would be a very nice book if it did not come the obey so strong. Shopped with Emma. Got a grey mohair for Spring, and a print for Summer Wrapper, and went to Miss Randall and was measured. Came out on the same train with Emma, Mamma, Uncle Bo, Ruth Swan, and Lulu Mann and mother. Newcomes. New girl. Feb. 6th Thursday. Left off Geography. Mr. Horne away all day. Edith has eaten too much fruit, and has diarhea accordingly. Papa went to N. Y. sending by a Emma with great secrecy, a letter advising me to sleep with Mamma, because she felt lonely when he was gone. I didn't but Emma did. She finished The Newcomes in the evening. Feb. 7th Friday. Wrote a letter to Kitty, chiefly in school. Edith groaning with stomach ache.181 A delightful sea fog, in which I smelt the sea, and thought of M. V. Emma finished the Newcomes aloud. Feb. 8th Saturday. Found to my unspeakable consternation that we must have [pap] pieces to speak chosen by Monday, and this the first I heard of it, and it always takes me a week to choose my piece! Looked up pieces in my big book, and am divided in my mind between Laus Deo and The Blessed Damozel. Feb. 9th Sunday. Went down to bible class, but Mr. Badger was not there and there was none. There was a scrambling sort of Sunday school, and I fell in love at first sight with a bright looking little girl about 12 I should think whom I found on inquiry to be Bessie Johnson of the Industrial institution. Did not stay to church. Worried as to what piece to speak, and looked over flower seeds with Edith. Papa read Middlemarch aloud in the evening. Feb. 10th Monday. Am feeling rather badly. In the middle of supper Mamma bade me put some apples to bake for Papa. I didn't exactly feel like going down celler in the dark, but went out. There was no oil in the lamps and I came back to ask where the candles were. (I had asked something before about the oven) and Mamma jumped up and said it was less trouble to go for them herself, and went. She came back to table, and said before Mrs. Speer and Edie and Emma that She was so ashamed of Alice that she did not want any one to say anything or talk or something 182 something. I have forgotten what happened (besides school) in the first part of the day. Feb. 11th Tuesday. Took my design to school. After school walked over Milton Hill and back for exercise, and made my bed and Uncle Stone's and set the table, and felt virtuous. Feb. 12th Wednesday. Went into Boston, got the Knickerbocker, being obliged to return Margaret and her Bridesmaids. Returned books at [L?rings], got my fitting over, went for note paper, with Emma and to the P.O. (the Old South) for letters. Emma had her pocket picked and we suspected an officious old gentleman who seems to haunt the P.O. especially to give information to bewildered females. Feb. 13th Thursday. Mike has found a nest of young rabbits in the garden, and Edith has rabbit on the brain. They were hauled out of the hole by me (it is nearly the depth of my arms, which was nearly pulled out of the socket reaching after them,) and they were duly examined. [To?y] is said to have eaten one and Edie is frantic if he is seen out of doors. Feb. 14th Friday. More hauling over of rabbits. Church Sociable in the evening. I went with Hattie Mann, right from school, and sewed two baby sleeves of scarlet flannel with black dots - very pretty work, but it tried my eyes some, and stained my fingers badly. Hattie's were stained too, and we went over to Fanny Benedicts and washed them in vinegar. Hattie's came out, but mine wouldn't. Danced [?glemug] watched the Virginia reel and waltzes and had a good time. Feb. 15th [*183*] Saturday. Went into Boston with Edie. We joined Emma and we all went to see Rachel the Reaper and The Gentle Savage at the museum. Both were good I think, though Emma was disgusted with the Gentle Savage. I got What She Could at the Atheneum, Margaret and her Bridesmaids being out. Mr. Garrison and Colonel T. W. Higginson were in the office, and Mr. G said the place was garrisoned and there was the Commander, and T. W. said they were prepared to dispose of pamphlets at reasonable rates. [* Col. Higginson & Mr. Garrison*] Feb. 16th Sunday. Went down to Bible Class, but there was none Mr. Badger being sick so went over with Hattie to Meeting house hill. The sermon was good but absurdly delivered. Saw who in the world but Nina Stone as I came out. She is here on a visit. Walked home through a snow storm. Emma slept with me, and I kicked and mauled her for some outrageous remarks she made concerning the Gentle Savage yesterday. Feb. 17th Monday. Put turnip tops by the rabbit hole for the old mother to eat, and brought in the young ones to feed. Edie is really my thorn in the flesh. Feb. 18th Tuesday. School. Emma read Middlemarch in the evening. Feb. 19th Wednesday. Went over in the P.M. to the Chocolate factory with Mary Emma, Lulu and Hattie, but the expedition was rather a fraud, being made [*184*] in rain and slush, and as I only got a little chocolate. Middlemarch. Feb. 20 Thursday. Mrs. Spear's daughter came here to see her. I put the bookcase in order, and in so doing discovered the works and poems of Mr. Garrison, which I read in the evening with great interest. The poor little rabbis are all dead; their hole caved in and crushed them Mike showed me two of the frozen corpses. [* Mr. Garrison's works & poems*] Feb. 21st Friday. Tomorrow is Washington's Birthday, and in honor of it we have had an explosion at school in the P.M. We read the Character of Washington; Mr. Horne read part of his "Farewell Address," and some of the scholars who had patriotic pieces recited them. A furious snowstorm arose while we were at it, and I was minus even an umbrella or waterproof. It snowed I think harder than I ever saw it, and I did not know what to do. But Mama sent Mike down with the sleigh, and we rode home. I never saw such a storm. When we turned the corner the sleet bit our faces painfully, and the wind blew like the Judgement Day. How the snow did whirl to be sure! We were nearly dead by the time we got home. It was truly magnificent. I went up into my den to watch the storm. When Papa got home he was coated and crusted with snow and clean exhausted. He said that morning papers in the weather reports predicted a great storm. It seemed so good to be in the house! Feb. 22 Saturday. Edie and I folded Papers for Papa.[*185*] Clear and cold. Washington's birthday, and therefore holiday. Feb. 23d Sunday. Did not go to church nor anywhere. Great drifts on the roads reported. Read and loafed; got along pretty comfortably. Studied flower catalogues, etc. Read Storming Heaven again, but it did not do me much good. Told Edie, who was bothering me, that I wouldn't speak to her till 3, and didn't, though she said provoking things to make me. Washed myself and my hair. Feb. 24th Monday. In the evening before supper I said I smelt smoke, but they thought it was a whimsy. I got through before the rest, and as I went to get wood for the library fire, the closet was full of a smell of burning. Papa and Mrs. Spear smelt it and I was starting down cellar with a lamp to see if all was right there, when Mamma called out from the bathroom that the trouble was there. We rushed up to be nearly strangled with smoke. Mamma had hung some things over the stem of the gas, and they had caught fire, set fire to the wall and burnt off the rubber tube that goes to the gas stove. Mamma turned off the gas, badly burning her hand, and we all rushed, I collected the bedroom pitchers, filled them at the sink, where all the faucets but one were frozen, and carried them up to the fire. Papa and Mike cut the wall open with an axe and poured water down, and the fire was finally put out without much damage except [*186*] to the one wall, and the filling the house will the old sickening smell of wood smoke. Feb. 25th Tuesday. Edith had tableaux in the evening with Papa. They were of thrilling interest (anything but; that's ironical) and Papa and Uncle Bo and I, who were audience, applauded much and hissed a little. We then had Middlemarch. Feb. 26th Wednesday. Wanted to get Margaret and Bridesmaids again from the library, but Papa said he would get if for me, wanting me to stay and go riding with Mamma, which I did. We went in search of hay and I enlivened the journey by fighting Edith. Middlemarch. Studied for History examination. Feb. 27th Thursday. History examination in the morning. Went back in the P.M. to correct it, but found I had 100. Did not stay, as I haven't had Geography, but came home. Read Margaret and her Bridesmaids. Feb. 28th Friday. Grammar ex. in the morning, Arithmetic (100) in P.M. Read Margaret & Bridesmaids. Went to the sociable in the afternoon right from school. Sewed on the same sort of work, and had to go over to F. Benedict's to wash off the stains in vinegar with Hattie. The Benedicts have such a queer little house inside; little rooms opening out of one another, and the huge family packed like herrings in a box. Hattie promised to dance Uglemug with me, but didn't. I was taken forcible possession of a girl whom Florrie dragged me away and told me she was an awfully[*187*] acting girl, Mrs. Whitton's servant. Edie could not go because of her cold. March 1st Saturday. Went over to Hattie's, played a game of chess, and beat her. Her mother taught us the Scholar's game, and gave me an item for Mamma. I like chess. March. 2nd Sunday. Went to Bible class in the morning, and stayed to Sunday School. We went for a ride in the afternoon. March 3d Monday. It snowed hard. Gave Edie a music lesson and made some candy. March 4th Tuesday. Were driven to and from school, and the snow on Boutwell Ave. was up to the bodies of hours and sleigh. I am number 2. My eyes were bad in the P.M. I got another letter from Kitty, and implored Mamma to let me go to England. Edith intreated to the contrary, but Mamma seemed so favorable as to give me good hopes. I feared I had injured my cause by knocking down Edith who pulled Mamma down with her, but I guess not. What a perverse little creature I am! Now there seems a good chance of my going I am not so sure I want to. March 5th Wednesday. School, and a frantic scramble over spelling. Read, sewed, felt poetical, and thought about going to England. March 6th Thursday. Rode down hill with Edie, and tumbled off the sled about 5 times successively to her great amusement. March 7th Friday. Had an unusually violent fight with Edie. A Mr. Allen came to examine us, and asked for a definition of [*188*] History, and I said it was facts related in the order they occurred. Being asked if necessarily in order, I said I supposed the separate facts would be history, but not a history unless they were told in a string. Just one of my absurd speeches that are always popping out in spite of me! If there were a trap door under my seat I should certainly astonish the primary scholars by coming through now and then for I am often ready to sink in my shoes. Mr. H. charitably said it would certainly not be much of a history that was not strung on something, so I felt better. Middlemarch. Mar. 8th Saturday. Went into Boston, changed a book, and saw the Campbells who are coming and Miss Eastman. Fathomless mud and water. Appointed with Lily Morse about the music lessons. March 9th Sunday. Bible Class; read, and bought Edie Papa was drunk in the evening. Middlemare. [*(see March 13)*] March 10th Monday. A furious snow storm, made a lemon pie, and one session. March 11th Tuesday. Gray and fresh. Fought my way home from school, after being kept in over an abominable sum in cube root which gave me a headache & backache and all over ache, against a magnificent March wind that almost upset me, and in the P.M. through a furious rain storm. Made Washington Pie. March 12th Wednesday. Wen with Edie to Carrie Morse's , and Lilla gave us our lesson. Agnes came and was hugged. She looks miserably unwell.189 March 13 Thursday. Fought Agnes and Edith, and did my practicing. Papa did drunk surprisingly, to Agnes's great amusement. March 14th Friday. Went to the sociable with Edith. They had a charade + music, but I did not enjoy it very much. March 15th Saturday. Was to have gone in to the dentist with Mamma, but it threatened a storm and I didn't. I believe I fought Agnes + Edith + practiced. March 16th Sunday. Went to Bible Class, and then to ride with Papa and Mamma + Edith. We set out for Quincy Great Head; but there seems a fate about that place - we are never able to get to it. This time we had to turn back for the wind, which beside being cold gave us all serious fears several times that it would upset the carriage. And Edie yelped and howled and rolled her self up in her waterproof all through the homeward journey. Made [lables] labels for flower beds. March 17th Monday. School again. Brought home a willow stick and made more flower seed labels. Middlemarch, after which Papa was drunk. Neither Edie nor I have yet got the penny Mamma offered as prize for a day of peace between us. March 18th Tuesday. Eyes bad. Shook in my shoes during the history, but did not miss. Mamma held a court in the evening to see if Edith and I were to have our pennies for yesterday, when we scrummaged about shutting the door. Papa was judge, and sat in the big chair looking very absurd 200 in the green lamp shade, which was put on to give him a Judicial aspect. Edie + I were prisoners at the bar, and Mamma was witness. After a sifting of the evidence it was decided that neither of us deserved our penny. I was much disgusted, for I think I deserved mine. March 19th Wednesday. Mr. Horne announced that we were to bring in letter compositions Saturday. Edith + I went to our music lesson. March 20 Thursday. Snowed. School + practicing. March 21st Friday. Worked on my composition and was aggravated by Edie. Phebe was here in the evening, and we had Middlemarch in the dining room. March 22 Saturday. Went into Boston with Edith, and showed her the mummies. There was no one else there, so Mrs. Foster showed and explained to us. Mamma came while we were there. The [mumm?ng] case with the handsome carved face that reminded me of Miss Andrews and Aunt Marian, is that of an Egyptian princess. I think almost the most interesting thing there is a slender, dark, delicate woman's hand, with a little gold ring on the little finger. It has been cut off from some mummy, and lies in the glass case. It is said to be 4000 years old. I wondered how much the former owner of it cares for it now; whether she remembers the little gold ring; and how much I shall care what becomes of my hands and feet 4000 years after I die. I feel as if I should retain a certain interest in them; I always [*201*] keep a tenderness for my old dresses. I got from library the first volume of the Ring and the Book, the only thing in of Robert Brownings, and read at it by snatches, but am not ready to say what I think of it yet. I debated whether to come in the cars or in the carriage with Mamma and Edie. I finally chose the cars which was lucky as Mamma and Edith lost their way and had rather a time of it. Middlemarch, & drunk. March 23rd Sunday. Bible class, and long cold ride. Did have an hour's practising left over from yesterday. Middlemarch. March 24 Monday. As we were playing drunk Papa and Edith plunged through the glass door. Crash went the glass, bang went Edith's head, howl went Edith. There was a great cut on her wrist, which e did up. I put her to bed, and expressed her conviction that she should bleed to death in the night. March 25th Tuesday. School. I find examinations begin Thursday. Practiced. Middlemarch. March 26th Wednesday. Went to music lesson[s] and came home through a pouring rain. My dress and cloak shed water like an umbrella when I came in. Read a Harper's Magazine as I waited for Edith and for Miss Morse to see a caller. Studied up my U. S. history, and studied and worried myself into a headache. Went to bed, slept ill, and dreamed I was Burgoyne, and doing the wrong events. I wish History was at the bottom of the sea. [202] March 27th Thursday. History examination. 100 by the skin of my teeth. March 28th Friday. Grammar and Arithmetic. 91 and 90!!!! A sociable in the evening. Sewed, felt very dismal because of my bad examinations (what ever possessed me to forget the rule for present worth?) and watched Blue Beard with great edification. March 29 Saturday. Spelling examination. Went into Boston, returned Middlemarch, got the second vol. of The Ring & the Book, also another of his, and came home through such a rain! March 30th Sunday. No Bible class. Took a [long] walk to Milton Chapel, sat through the service and came home. There was a most magnificent wind, and I struggled violently and delightedly in the face of it, but as I came home it had somewhat decreased. [???????] out here to supper & Mrs. Howe came March 31st Monday. School. I am No. 4. Agnes and I talked and confidentialized, and I enjoyed the possibility of an Explosion. Because I think a good deal, and work myself up sometimes till I don't know whether to cry or swear, and there is no one t o explode to. Miss Eastman came. April 1st Tuesday. Miss Eastman overlooked my seeds, and promised to send me some snake cucumber seed. Potted my gourds & squashes. Middlemarch. Was kept in nearly half an hour over a worrysome sum, till Mr. H. declared he did not think he could see me through till he had his dinner. I got it right in the P. M.[*203*] April 2nd Wednesday. Drizzling and misty. Edith and I went to our music lesson, Agnes went away, poor darling, and the is the last day of school of the time being. Went over to Dr. Hall's church and heard Judge Putnam lecture on the passion play of Oberammergau, with Mamma. Our bulbs came. April 3rd Thursday. Our first holiday. Edith and I dug and delved in our gardens, practiced, and did some housework. April 4th Friday. Went into Boston and got the mail, and made the greater part of of a crorchetted band for Agnes's prospective baby. A little girl called to see Edith. Read a new Ledger, and some of Whittier's poetry. There is no one l ike Whittier after all. April 5th Saturday. Went into Boston again, got the mail and Gates Ajar. Mr. Horne came out on the train with me. I was glaring intently out he window when I found him standing in front of me saying "Good morning". We shook hands and he[n] helped me out with my various huge parcels, and Mamma drove me home. Ironed. Have crotchetted a circlet of blue worsted, sewed a bit of black silk (on which I had worked Mr. Collyer's initials) into it and wear it around my arm for love of him. T hat was "The man Help," who once & again pulled me out of the slough of despond. Middlemarch. April 6th Sunday. Bible class. Went over in the carriage to the Milton Chapel, was let out at the door and dropt into the nearest seat. [*204*] The service had not begun. Left my prayer book on the ledge of the porch when I laid it down to put on my clouk. It began to rain as I began to go home, but the carriage met me half way. If I were ever to be anything but a Unitarian, I think I should have to be an Episcopalian or Catholic, I don't think I could stop at any of the intermediate stations. But I shall never go in that direction. Papa had a very bad headache, and the reading off Middlemarch, after the first chapter, had to be turned over to Mamma. April 7th Monday. Asked Fanny Benedict to see about my Prayer book. Grey & cool. Am writing an article for the Journal, and making a blue bag for Agnes. April 8th Tuesday. Finished the blue bag, and wrote some more on my Woman's rights piece. Papa read a chapter of Middlemarch, & then departed for N. Y. April 9th Wednesday. I don't know what in the world I shall do with my temper! In the end I am afraid I shall murder some one. Edith is excessively aggravating, and there are times when I should like to tear her to pieces. Now & then I do knock her down, & pummel her. I hope I may not knock her down & murder her someday. But she fights so vigorously I should have time to recollect myself. Today my stomach is out of order, my feet cold, & I myself cross & with a desire to break windows. April 10th Thursday. Worked in the garden and about the house and practiced.[*205*] April 11th Friday. Sociable, I decided to go, at the last moment, & wore my grey dress. [Not]Fought a duel in the dressing room with Emma Adams, with poker & shovel. After the combat we bled internally & writhed much. Addie Calendar and Carrie Littlefield both declared themselves desperately in love with Capt. Kidd. Came home before Edith, whom Papa afterward went for. April 12th Saturday. Went in to the dentist, and came out with Mamma through a heavy snow storm. Mr. & Mrs. Horne and baby were on the platform, & Mama offered to drive the two last up when our carriage came. Mr. H. said he would go on home and light the fire, and overtook me, I having started to walk up. We went on together, and the snow flakes were huge, a s big as birds. April 13th Sunday. Stayed at home. Rather an unsatisfactory day. Did not read a sermon either. Stormy. April 14th Monday. School again. The school library is now ready and I got out Tom Brown, but could not read it much, my eyes being worse than usual. Middlemarch. April 15th Tuesday. Am. History. Got through it somehow. Eyes very bad. Edith had Louisa D'Aubigny to tea. Middlemarch. April 16th Wednesday. Went down to music lesson. It is so provoking I should get nervous! A piece I can play perfectly at home [*206*] I stumble on constantly. I think the evil spirit gets into my fingers down there, and I told her it seemed so. April 17th Wednesday. English History. Miss T. is away and Mr. H. has to take both classes. Mamma sent Edith and me down to Mrs. Sullivan's to pay her some money that is owing her, quite late in the evening, and it was very weird and windy and ghostly, especially where we came out upon the marshes. The only thing to make it perfect would have been to have Capt. Kidd waiting for me down on the misty shore I was making for; and to have had my old Guardian instead of Papa's cane, and to have Edie keep quieter. When I left I whispered to [Papa} Mamma that if I was assassinated she was to give my love to Papa and Mr. Collyer, which she promised to do. April 18th Friday. Went to Boston after school and got the mail, and 1 vol. of Tom Brown at Oxford and to my utter dismay and amazement they said Papa had not yet returned the Harveys! 16 days out! He certainly has, and they must have forgotten to put it down. I shall make inquiries. [*Train accident HBB*] April 19th Saturday. Papa got home, He has come very near being killed on the railroad. His train and a belated one met at the Stonington Junction and disputed which should go first. His train had the right of way, but the other conductor insisted and so Papa's conductor waived his right, and the other train went first, plunged over a washed away milldam in the pitch.[*207*] darkness, and a lot of people were injured, and the engineer and fire man and ten or twelve passengers burned to death, which was a very narrow escape for Papa, as his [train} car was next to the engine and would certainly have been smashed. When I heard of it I went straight up to my den and down on my knees. I don't think I prayed, but it seemed the right place to be. I didn't feel exactly in the right mood to down to Carrie Littlefield, and rehearse my part of Bessie in the Grecian bend, but I went, and we rehearsed- all but Eva Dix. I got along some [of] how, and they approved of me, [or] but I am not at all satisfied; quite the contrary. Papa came for me and took me home. April 20th Sunday. Went over to Chapel, walking with Fanny, whom I overtook. It was not as nice as in the afternoon, and there were few there. Rode over to Quincy Great Hill or Head with the folks. It is a glorious place- a great round hill with water all around it, and great cliffs that seemed almost like Martha's Vineyard. I watched my face in the blessed salt water, and heard the sound of it; but it was nearly spoiled by Edith's incessant noise and chatter, which gave me a headache. April 21st Monday. Got excused from school early to go to Boston to hear Elizabeth [*208*] [*Elizabeth Stuart Phelps*] ran myself nearly to death, and found [the tr] myself nearly and hour too early, so went and called on Mary Fifield. At her house I found a copy of Timrod's poems, which I read with great delight, but found that he was a rebel and praised the Alabama to the skies! Went in, and heard the last few minutes of Elizabeth Stuart Phelps's reading, and got a good look at her. She is not ugly, as I have heard, [??] but rather handsome if anything, striking looking with bright dark eyes. She seemed very earnest, and I was very glad to see and shake[s] hands with her afterward, though she went right away. Then there was discussion, and Dio Lewis defended trails, and convinced me he was humbug. One oldish lady behind me was very indignant and audibly expressed her wish that he had to wear one. And we went home. April 22nd Tuesday. I was to have rehearsed at Carrie's l ast night, but got home late and tired, forgot and didn't. But I wend down this evening, was scolded, petted and told that the next rehearsal is tomorrow night at Mrs. Whalls. April 23rd Wednesday. Went to Mrs. Whall's in the evening and rehearsed a Grecian Bend. I was introduced to several people, but had a headache and so could not enjoy anything. Mrs Whall gave me camphor and everyone seemed to come209 home alone, but Mr. Whall said not if he knew it, and escorted me. April 24th Thursday. Rehearsal (dress) at church in the P.M. I went to Carrie's first, and was by her fixed into an overskirt. In the gipsey piece Mr. Whall did the man asleep, and his little dog lay down with him, and would persist in biting George Whall when he stirred him up to wake him. His barking quite spoiled the pathos, and Mrs. Whall had to keep him in her lap. Our rehearsal went off somehow, and at the last I caught sight of Papa in the audience. I had not dared look in that direction before, and I had to go and demand to know how long he had been there. It seems he had seen all that rehearsal and part of the one before. He then took me home. April 25th Friday. The great climax. Rehearsed at noon recess, but had to bolt for school before the others were through. Went home and dressed after school, and went down late. Got through supper somehow, and went and dressed with the others. The dressing room was full to overflowing, and it was such a scene of confusion! I did as well as I could, and was much praised for it afterward. I felt so queer when I was to come upon the stage! Something seemed to press up against my breasts and choke me. But I got through it. I have always got through things somehow. After [I] it was over I went out to the audience and watched the gipsey performance. Papa and Mamma got there just too late to witness my performance. 210 While we girls were larking around in the church - Hattie Mann and Fanny Benedict demanded to be married, and I accordingly performed the ceremony in a disjointed and fragmentary manner [to] [by] from memory. The solemnity was rather marred by bride and bridegroom bolting before I could pronounce them man and wife, but it was great fun. As we came home Papa asked the name of "the young lady who poked boughs at me," and when I told him it was Lulu Mann he said she was "exceedingly pretty." Papa and Mamma got lots of compliments on my acting. April 26th Saturday. Rode into Boston with Mamma and Edith and Papa, and got two pairs of shoes - of which I am wofully in need - a hat, and the second vol. of 'T.B. at Oxford. Rode out in rather a bad state of mind, my one consolation being the fact that T.B. was in the bag. Nevertheless I felt very cross and uncomfortable. When I came in Edith and I were alone in the library and she began saying all the most hateful things she could think of. I stood it a while, without [and] answering, and then knocked her over. She went on worse than ever, and I did it again; and finally I gave her a kick, feeling as though I should like to kill her. Such a yell as she set up! I was sorry in a minute, and went upstairs and made my bed, but she groaned and snarled and whimpered and abused me all the evening. Middlemarch.211 April 27th Sunday. Read Tom Brown at Oxford in the morning, and felt so delighted I squirmed all over, and laughed, and would have like to hug Tom Hughes. T.B. at Rugby would make me want to do that any way. What he says meets my views just - especially what he says about wild oats - and about all sorts of things too. What he says is so good and true and brave, and he says it so well and bravely and truly that I feel braver and better for it even when it does not especially apply to me. Went over to chapel in the P.M. Mrs. [Bea?es] was there, sat by me and found my places when I couldn't. April 28th Monday. Mike has caught the rabbit, and he and Papa have built him a hutch. When Edith and I got home from school we saw him - I should say her - put into it, with a dish of water and an apple. He ran about and held up his poor little paws in a most touching manner, trying to get out. April 29th Tuesday. Emma Adams invited me to go rowing, and I gladly accepted, but she afterward recalled her invitation saying it was too rough and we had better wait till Thursday. So I walked over to Milton Hill instead, and meant to go farther, but a drop or two of rain made me turn about. I got home dry, though. That Milton Hill is a lovely place - worth the three mile walk to see. Finished Middlemarch. April 30th Wednesday. School in A.M. Music lesson in P.M. 212 May 1st Thursday. Grammar ex. in A.M. and let out early so that the teachers might attend a lecture. History ex in the afternoon. Rowed with Emma Adams. May 2nd Friday. Geography in A.M. and I took the ex. by Mr. H.'s advice, + got 52 the highest mark being 80, which Mr. H. said was very respectable considering. Arithmetic ex. in P.M. I scrabbled frantically through it, expecting every moment that Papa would call for me with the mail to take to Boston; thought I heard him below, and left, certain one sum at least was wrong, but not daring to stay and correct it. Met the carriage coming down the hill, Papa having decided to go himself. To have spoilt my ex. for nothing was too bad. I am afraid I was cross to Papa, and I went home and cried. We had "off the Skelligs" read aloud. May 3d Saturday. Spelling ex. I got 100 in that, anyway. Sent in a letter to be posted for Kitty. Read Mr. Garrison's writings, which I like. Very stormy. May 4th Sunday. Went over to Chapel in the P.M. Hot - very. Pasted things into my scrap book, practiced, and washed. Skelligs. Papa's 48th Birthday. May 5th Monday. A singing lesson, and English History. Forgot that $.08 to pay for the ball in the A.M. But remembered in P.M. A year ago today! I remembered. [*Mr. Collyer*] May 6th Tuesday. American History. Base Ball at recess. Walked over to North Quincy with Miss Jones + Edith in the evening. May 7th Wednesday. Music lesson - a dreadful one. I never can play the piece in this world - never! Walked over to Milton Chapel after supper with Miss Jones, and [o?]213 coming home we looked through the window and saw Mamma and Edith sitting in the library. Edith looked toward me, and I dodged out of sight. A moment after I heard a howl, and rushed into the house to find Edith with her face hidden holding onto Mamma and making a great ado. She said she had seen a great white face (Miss Jones's I suppose) crowned with a hat, glaring at her. We finally got her pacified. May 8th Thursday. Went in the evening to an entertainment at Mrs. Newhall's with Mamma. A Miss Pearson sang very prettily, and Miss Josephine Ellery read very well. But the singing made me think of dear Alice. May 9th Friday. Miss Jones and Edith went down to a sort of sociable at the church, so Papa and Mamma and I had our reading of "Off the Skelligs in peace and pleasure. May 10th Saturday. Went into Boston (drove) and got Wives and Daughters from the library, and also Mamma and I chose me a shawl and silk dress. May 11th Sunday. Went over to Chapel, which was jammed and saw the Confirmation. Came home in the rain with an umbrella but no waterproof, and got wet. An expression in Wives and Daughters rather struck me; Cynthia calls herself, "A moral kangaroo" competent to a big leap of goodness occasionally, but not to a steady [?ace] of it. It is an uncomfortable beast in my case, Off the Skelligs. May 12th Monday Climbed [??] trees with Miss Jones and Edie in the evening; and walked 214 up and down with them on Train St. May 13th Tuesday. Got a letter from Nelly Hooper. The last part of it was religious, and stirred me up, and I sat down and answered it immediately, in excitement, stating my views. I stated them in rather strong language I believe, but I felt them strongly, and could not get the right words. I am so glad Mamma has decided to help Alice! Did not read above 15 m. May 14th Wednesday. Went to music lesson. Cut dandelion greens in the evening with Miss Jones and Edie Got letters from Kitty and Aunt Marian. Went out walking after supper with Edie, and walked a mile and a half in 30 m. May 15th Thursday. Promised to get to school at 1.30 to play base ball, but forgot. Played at recess and till school. Write to Kitty and Aunt Marian. After school walked to Milton Lower Mills, on over Milton Hill and home by way of Granite Bridge - about 7 miles I should think. Am at present in [a] serene enjoyment of a good conscience and blistered feet. May 16th Friday. Went into Boston with Mamma after school to a meeting of the dress committee. Mamma agreed to stop at the school house for me in the carriage and wait five minutes for me at a quarter of three. We went up in the hall to recite where there is no clock, and I, haunted by visions of the carriage vanishing in the distance, tossed several frantic little notes over to Hattie to know what time it was. She saw the 3d or 4th and I saw no answer, but she said afterward Emma held up her watch. Finally in desperation I asked to be dismissed; Mr. H. said yes, and I flew down. There was the carriage, all right. 215 We drove in, and I sat in the committee meeting, but found it stupid. I watched a youngish lady opposite who had a face I liked to look at, though I thought it had a slightly wicked expression, and reminded me of a Rebel. Mamma told me afterward that she was Mrs. Woolson whose book I liked so. I had seen her several times and heard her, but from behind and I did not know her. It was rather stupid, but I talked a little to Dr. Safford after it, and got Lowells poems from the library. Alice liked those. May 17th Saturday. Edith and Miss Jones went to Barnums menagerie; I did not care much about going, so stayed and trimmed rose-bushes. May 18th Sunday We all went off on a picnic, and when, after a lovely ride, we had got out and lugged our baskets up a hill it began to pour with rain, and we finally dined under a tent of waterproofs. [*And then, the rain having stopped, Miss Jones. Edith and I rambled through the woods and loaded ourselves with moss, getting back to the carriage just in time to escape another shower.*] Then we rode to Hyde Park, and I, knowing they went to ask about Alice, and remembering the last time, felt nervous. Mr. Weld, in the course of talk about Alice's prospects Mr. & Mrs. Weld told us a great deal about Mr. & Mrs. Earle and Florence and Mr. Nicholson, whom she has married. It seems that after she was taken to Europe he followed, and fairly besieged the convent to get access to her; finally heard a piano and recognized her playing. She came to the window and managed to speak to him. He said "Can I do anything for you?" and she managed to tell him how her mother was said to be very ill on her account, and she had promised to stay at the convent for the present. She said they must wait, and 216 he then went home. Afterward she wrote home to her family that she should arrive at such a steamer and such a day; that Mr. N. would meet her and they were to be married, and invited them to meet her. None of them did but her brother George, and he did so, and stayed to the wedding; but all the Aunts and uncles and cousins took part with Florence, caressed and made much of her, taking part against Mrs. Earle. Nicholson Mr. Weld believes to be a fine fellow. He was accused of being the worst kind of fast, but appears to have done nothing worse than spending (as he confessed a great deal of money very foolishly. I am so glad! Florence having been forbidden by her mother to see him at the house, met him in the park; and when Mrs. E. found out the scene ensued, and as F despite imprisonment, refused to promise not to see or correspond with him, she was taken to Europe. Mary was married with opposition too, and both daughters I understand are disowned. Mr. E. is represented as a man with brains and talents, but a slave to his beautiful tigress of a wife. And they talked over Alice's position and about lending her the money, and I listened in breathless excitement, and when it was over and Momma was carried off by Mrs. Weld to see Mrs. Hamilton's baby, and Papa and Mr. Weld began to talk of comparatively uninteresting things I pretended to read the Independent and covertly cried a little, what with excitement and trouble. And what Mr. Weld was telling about his daughter, though nothing compared to the Earle story, made me feel what Thackeray says about universal skeletons in closets. [*The Earle Family*]217 And about what Mr. Collyer says about loving being living. I have lived more, as regards strong feeling and excitement than in a year of ordinary living. Rode home with my mind full of all sorts of Earle-y and Carle suggested things. May 19th Monday. Got myself taken in to the ladies club -- allowed to go, that is, for I went alone. I am always distracted with a variety of heroine worship. There are so many of them. Dr. Safford and Mrs. Woolson and Miss Eastman and a dozen more; but I think Dr. Safford is the ruling attraction. She spoke very kindly to me, and when I sat behind her gave me her hand, bidding me warm it. Prof. Agassiz spoke his speak, and then there was discussion, and then general talk, and then the Club tea at which last there was much fun making, and I sat by Miss Eastman and was in clover. Very sleepy, though, on the way home. Wart-Hog- Ward Howe. May 20th Tuesday. Worked among the flowers, I believe, practiced a little and otherwise did nothing in particular that I remember. May 21st Wednesday. Weeded. There was a fire over away to the Westward, and Miss Jones, Edie, Mrs. Coe + I watched it from Edie's den. May 22nd Thursday. I had made all my arrangements to go into Boston and buy that thin paper so often forgotten by Papa, but on coming home found that Mamma had promised to get it. She brought it home and I wrote the beginning of a letter to Kitty. May 23rd Friday. Finished the letter, and gave it to Papa with many charges to be sure. 218 and put on two stamps. Lo and behold, he did not post it all! Music lesson. Walked down to Neponset and over the river. There was a beautiful rose crimson glow on the water. May 24th Saturday. Went into Boston, returned "Wives + daughters" and got "Yeast" and "Stretton" again. [Heroically] Kept from reading after I got home. We read the Skelligs on the Piazza till the mosquitos drove us in, and one of the horrid creatures kept me awake. May 25th Sunday. Slept late. Went off to the Codman School woods with Edie and got a quantity of columbines and black mould etc. and a great bunch of violets in a swamp not far from [Neponset] Milton. Read some of Yeast. Met Mary Emma Ryder & brother & sister, who had also been out after flowers. May 26th Monday. An unexpected History ex. Got 100 to my great surprise, though I had a name & date wrong. Muddled my brains with "Yeast." Kingsley might well call it a problem - if it is true, as I suppose it is. But he doesn't believe in woman's rights, so I don't altogether believe in him, though he says some splendid good things. I like Tregarva immensely; but what a good thing it would be if every body would pitch in and do his best! But every body won't. I am so glad I am not responsible for every body! But I don't see through it. Went out walking and muddling my brains, and saw Mary Emma as I cam home. Took Mrs. Coe's little daughter to school. May 27th Tuesday. All [th] our class but four absent, so Mr. Horne had us go over our history219 papers, and let us go in half an hour. In the afternoon Hattie & Louie were there also; they had all been into Boston to that drill; and we had a Geography exercise. After which I went home with Hattie & played a game of chess. We both expected her to win, but I finally took all her men but the king, and still had two knights left. I felt quite conceited, for she has been playing all summer. I took the white pieces; I always like to get them, for it reminds me of Sir Lancelot, who found white & black knights fighting, and took sides with the black because they were getting the worst of it; but got unhorsed and wounded. although "the best knight in the world" they said. He found he had taken part with the devils against the angels, and of course had to go down. May 28th Wednesday. Geography ex. Got 77. Miss Eastman was out here; and we got and fixed some flowers for [tonigh] the tea party tonight. then Edie and I put on our white dresses and we drove in. Miss Eastman said if she were I she would load herself with flowers each day when she came in, and scatter them on the street for the little children. The evening was rather a crush; I was introduced to lots to people, [S] among them to Miss Alcott, whose looks greatly disappointed me. I didn't expect her to be handsome, bur she is positively unpleasant looking, and I think laces. Papa introduced me to Parker Pillsbury, and I spoke to him rather cordially, and found out after to my disgust that he is a Woodfullite, by both theory and practice; and I 220 wanted to wash my hands. I wandered about seeking Mrs. Woolson, like a lost Hottentott; finally caught sight of her, and heard her talk a little. Saw Mr. Garrison and Mr. Higginson, and both saw and heard a young Charles Ames, whom I greatly liked, though he is not handsome. He is like both Harry Spofford and Charley Blair. They took a good deal of money [to] and when it was all over we drove home - six in the carriage. We had some supper - most indigestible - while there. Got to be about 12 P.M. [Margin] It's salter than I thought - the world I mean. May 29th Thursday. Grammar & Arith. ex. I am feeling excessively uncomfortable, for I wrote a note to Marry Emma asking her to set down her answers so that we could compare them after school, and she thought I wanted to ask about the examination, and wouldn't take it till I assured her to the contrary. Honorable of her, of course; but the idea of suspecting that I would do such a thing! I am feeling really very badly about it. And I made an insane and idiotic mistake on the last question, so that I shan't get but 90: and its' hot and mosquitoey, and Edith is a plague and Annie Coe an outrageous bother. And my music lesson (to which I went from school) was not very satisfactory. And yesterday or day before I made a vow not to read more than 15 min. each week day while school lasts out of school; not that I [am ? for] want to go back on that - no indeed. Alice Earle's father has [written] telegraphed to Papa not to send Alice the money till he gets a letter from him which is on its way. Someone has told him and there is trouble brewing I expect. What a queer business this is!221 May 30th Friday. Sick in the A.M. with diarrhoea and stomach ache; petted a poor little squirrel Edith found half dead under a bush. Rode into Boston with Mamma and Edie and Annie Coe; but Mr. Earle's letter had not come. [Seller] On the way in Mamma accused me of having known about Alice's affairs before; and I was driven to all sorts of prevarications (not lies) to keep from confession. I said I had had my suspicions, but Alice had kept very quite about her family affairs. On the heels of this we find a letter from Alice - a sad one, poor thing - telling about Florence, inclosing, [a lett] that article [I] from the Golden Age, and saying that she had formerly believed it to be false, and had told me so, but now knew it to be true, as Florence said so. There was a sweet situation for me! But I had forgotten her telling me, and said so. She said she enclosed a letter,which we could not find; and I came home in some excitement, and lay awake and thought of her till near midnight. The squirrel ran up Mrs. Coe's sleeve, and she tried to pull it out by the tail and pulled half its tail off. Drove home with Papa, Annie Coe driving. May 31st Saturday. Went into Boston to the anniversary of the Ladies Club, in Freeman Pl. Chapel; but it was very stupid, except Mr. Garrison's and Mamma's speech[es], - mostly reports. Afterwards a lunch, also very stupid, chiefly compliments. Drove home. June 1st Sunday. We went out riding, and the light hurt my eyes, so I had to cover them. Played croquet. 222 June 2nd Monday. I am No. 1!!! We are to be raced through the Rebellion in a week! Played croquet with Miss Jones and Edie, and got myself knocked on the head with a mallet Miss Jones was swinging about hers; while disputing a point of order. June 3rd Tuesday. School, croquet and practicing. Wend down to Hattie Mann's in the P.M. and played croquet. June 4th Wednesday. Sent in a huge bunch of lilies of the valley to be divided among the girls in the printing office. I think it is such a pity the flowers should all be in one place and the people in another! We have more flowers than we know what to do with. Edie's last day here. She sent her goodbye to Miss Morse by me. Played croquet with her, and let her beat the last game, it being the last. June 5th Thursday. Edie left in the morning early. Went out walking toward Dr. Mead's church. Mr. Horne wants me to write a valedictory composition. Oh!! June 6th Friday. A letter from Alice - the one she didn't inclose. Of all the mournful stories I ever read! Truth is stranger than fiction, and sadder too. Poor Alice! brave still though, my dear dear dearest! Rode with Papa and Mamma with my head full of it. It tells all about her unhappy life, poor thing! I want to kiss her & cry over her. June 7 Saturday. Most of the class absent at rehearsal. Those left had a grammar ex. Went into Boston223 and got Old Margaret & Alice Vale dodging between showers. June 8th Sunday. Rode over to the Quincy granite quarries with Papa and Mamma, and he & I climbed up to the top. saw the view and got 5 leaved ivy + ferns, also Solomon's seal+ I an[the] armfull of [columbines] wake robin - one huge specimen nearly half as long again as my arm, measuring from root to leaf tip. It is a lovely romantic place & I mean to go again. June 9th Monday. Went into the last meeting of the Ladies' club, [to] in which they were to give the last (for the present) handling to dress reform; but Dr. Safford has gone west, and Mrs. Churchill & Mrs. Wells said some atrocious things on the wrong side, and aggravated me greatly; and I was not very successful with the flowers I had brought to give to the dirty little children in the street, and there was another letter from Mr. Earle, and poor little Anna is worse, so altogether I was so ferociously cross when we started to drive home with Papa as to make him laugh at me. Mary Emma Ryder called in the evening to arrange about going tomorrow. June 10th Tuesday. Went in to the last festival rehearsal with Marry Emma. At her wish and against my judgment [] we took seats far back; but the music was splendid. We both smelt fire during the rehearsal, but it came to no open confession. Got Hereward, having time before the train went. Mr. Horne said to my delight that he didn't think it would be worth my while to go to school that PM so I didn't - having had no dinner & being past time. 224 June 11th Wednesday. A great splurge about having Papa bring his newspaper clippings into my den. Went to my music lesson, but they had company and Miss Morse put it off till tomorrow. June 12th Thursday. Having decided to make my composition as ridiculous as possible [I] & put in Hattie I threatened her vaguely as to [re] future vengeange. Went again for my Music lesson. Miss Morse was sick. June 13th Friday. Read Hereward in school. Afterward went and took my last music lesson for the time being, and bade Miss Lily good bye. June 16th Saturday. Went up to Gardner with Mamma to see poor little Anna, my scruples about losing Monday's lessons being put down by Papa's saying that he thought she might die any day. Took a cake of maple sugar with me and gnawed it in the car till Mamma took it away from me & threatened to [ta] throw it out of window when I tried to reclaim it. We drove into Boston to take the train, and in the carriage Mamma told me all sorts of queer things about boys - how if you show them any attention they immediately think you want to marry them, and that they would like to marry you. How very inconvenient! Anna was very glad to see me; got up from the sofa and came and put her arms round me - and when I held her she felt so thin & fragile & breakable that I felt like a monster for being so brutally big and strong - like a bull in a china225 shop -- as if I were all out of the order of nature. I slept with Emma, and we lay awake late, she telling me about the Vineland Swedenborgians, whose church she attended while there and who seem to have interested & nearly converted her. From what she told me, a good many of their doctrines seem very good indeed -- almost like Mr. Collyer -- while others I utterly disagree with. This is the anniversary of about the wickedest thing I ever did in my life. She forgave me, but I doubt if I shall ever forgive myself. June 15th Sunday. Emma & I wheeled Anna in a baby wagon down the road to see me pull brake roots, which were afterward put in pickle. Climbed up Drs. Hill and visited the pine grove going up and the beech going down, climbed the latter, stood on top of the hill with Wachusett on one side and Monadnock on the other. Walked in the woods across the road with Emma in the evening. June 16th Monday. Went home - drove out with Papa. June 17th Tuesday. A good many scholars absent Drove out to Squantum and had off the Skelligs in the evening. June 18th Wednesday. I am to be Mrs. Starch in Using the Weed which they are going to have at exhibition. It was arranged today. Mr. H. spoke of having Florine Starch, but all the girls in chorus declared I should do it best, so I am to have it. 226 June 19th Thursday. Stayed after school to rehearse, and set the girls into fits by the way I did Starch. June 20th Friday. Am in great worry and trouble of mind about my diploma examinations and my composition. June 21st Saturday. [A Grammar Exercise. Went into Boston and cha] Mr. Horne made an electric battery, which wouldn't work at all nicely, [but] and we stayed a good while after school watching his attempts to set it going. He finally gave it up in despair and dismissed us. But he explained about telegraphs, which was very interesting. Rehearsed. Off the Skelligs. June 22nd Sunday. Papa, Mamma and I drove over to Squantum, and Papa and I went out rowing. It seemed harder work than rowing with Emma, perhaps because the oars were longer, for coming back with short ones it was easier. We landed on the farm school island - some wild looking boys came to meet us. I went up for a moment into a lovely larch grove. The boys helped us get the water out of our boats; we launched it; Papa gave them some money and we rowed back to Mama. June 23rd Monday. Mr. Horne made the battery work, had the boys stand in a ring and shocked them. Then the girls. It was funny to watch the way they behaved. Diploma examinations. June 24th Tuesday. History ex. for diplomas. Gave in my composition, which I have worried through with, much to my own dissatisfaction.227 June 25th Wednesday. Mrs. Coe ironed and starched me a wrapper of hers, and made me a cap and we had a dress rehearsal down at the school house in the evening. Rehearsed. June 26th Thursday. Rehearsed before th other scholars from various rooms to make us used to an audience. Afterward Mr. Horne heard me read my composition. June 27th Friday. Exhibition. Mary Emma read her composition, which was good, but ended up with a personal compliment to Mr. Adams, a thing I always dislike. Songs and recitation, and off we "the dialogue girls" as Mr. Horne called us, went off to our various dressing rooms. Such a flurry as took place in those little closets! I did my part satisfactorily, Hattie gave that inevitable rising inflection to "Unhappy child!" of which we have been trying to break her, but the audience applauded. Lulu and Annie did excellently, and it all went off very well. When I came to read my valedictory I did not dare look at the audience except at the girls now and then to see how they were taking it, and felt my legs rather shaky, as at Agnes's wedding; but I didn't think my face showed it at all. I heard Mr. Adams chuckling, which was inspiring and I think I heard Mr. Horne laugh also; the audience laughed plenty, and when I stole a look at Hattie she had her fan before her face and was blushing in the most satisfactory manner. I went back to my seat while the audience applauded; and find that the sensation of being 228 clapped is very pleasant. Mr. Adams complimented me on my valedictory in his speech, which was embarrassing and said there were a number of things which it was customary to say on such occasions which were very true etc. and the only objection to which was that everyone had heard them before; and that he for one was very glad to see that old fence broken through. It's perhaps the first, but I don't mean it to be the last old fence I shall break through. Mamma and Papa were invited to make speeches and did it. Papa's was simply buncombe, though he denies it indignantly; but it was; regular 4th of July buncombe. Mamma's was good, but she made a tremendous mistake as to the best scholar being the best base ball player, for it is exactly the reverse, as I have several times told. And all the school was aware it was a mistake - Agnes told me so afterward. I got complimented after it was over by various people, and Eddy called me "a naughty girl." I am glad he is not offended by what I said about him; it was all meant in good nature. In the evening we had a little party at Mr. Horne's. First we sat out on the piazza and talked, while Mr. Young across the way watered his house and yard with a hose. I wish we were not too high up for that - the constant plash was very refreshing. Afterward we went in and had ice cream and cake, and a good deal of fun afterwards. The rev. Aunie or as we called her, Robert, Phips, she having been Miss229 Roberta in the dialoge, Capt. Paul Louis Mann (Lulu, who was Miss Paulina, and whose real name is Louise) and I, had a free fight with our diplomas as weapons and I fear scandalized Mr. Horne by the noise we made. I have at last distinguished between Mr. Horne's wife and his sister. After a good deal of fun we broke up and went home. During the evening Lulu and I vowed eternal friendship, and she pledged herself that if my husband was caught by the military she would save his life, and I promised that if she was ever taken prisoner by Capt. Kidd, I would have her let go. Won't I plague Kitty about that! June 28th Saturday. Went down to Hattie's and played a game of chess with her. She stalemated me. Lulu came in while we were at it, and we three went up to the school house and got our dialogue things which we had left there. Mr. H. was there, working over papers. Felt uncommonly miserable after all the excitement. June 29th Sunday. Sunday, Uncle George arrived. Felt rather miserable. June 30th Monday. Poor little Anna is very much worse. Send in flowers to that printing girls, and dozed on their lounge. Hannah was raving drunk. July 1st Tuesday. Mamma left to go to Anna. Uncle George plucked Putnam. July 2nd Wednesday. Went in to the reception. It was not very pleasant, except the getting our bouquets. Several people made us speeches; Ralph Waldo Emerson was one, but we could not hear him. 230 Also Phillips Brookes, who made a good speech but whom I consider an unctuous priest. He was much cheered. Then we filed across the platform, got our bouquets, passed down onto the basement and were fed; after which I went home, as the hall where they promenaded was crowded and I was tired. July 3rd Thursday. Took a long ride with Papa and Uncle George. We three sat on the house top in the evening. July 4th Friday. Anna died, at one oclock in the afternoon. Rode over to West Roxbury with Papa and Uncle George. We left Papa to go into Boston by the horsecars and drove home. He got back to supper. July 5th Saturday. Went into Boston with Papa, and we went to the office, where we found a letter from Mamma saying that Anna died yesterday. As near as I can calculate it, she was dying while we sat at dinner. Then I went and changed several books, and went out home. Sadie joined herself to me at the station, and I did not care for her in the least - rather disliked her if anything. How I did worship her about a year ago! Uncle George drove us up from the station, and when I got a safely into the house I cried a little for dear little Anna. And felt like a wretch because I didn't feel worse - though I did feel badly, and could have cried a deal if I had encouraged it a little. We drove out to Squantum, Papa taking me much against my will. He wanted to go out rowing, but could not get any but a sailboat, so we came home again.231 July 6th Wednesday. Walked over to Milton to the chapel. It seemed rather right to be in church while they were burying Anna. Washed out some blue and white cloth (horribly dirty) and hung it up in the bathroom to dry. July 7th Monday. Fixed the blue cloth into a covering for a box to make an ottoman for my den. I think it looks well. Mamma got back in the evening, and told us the particulars about Anna's sickness & funeral. I wonder how she feels now. July 8th Tuesday. Went into Boston with Papa & Mamma and got a book. Mamma and I looked at pictures, and Papa got another copy of "Two College Friends" for Kitty, which was duly sent by Uncle G. who left this day. I had commissioned Papa to get Magdalen Hepburn also, but he could not get it and got Margaret Maitland instead. But he is to return it. Drove out home. July 9th Wednesday. We are canning cherries, but I have nothing to do with that. Made some cake and got supper. Lulu called, and we made an appointment to bathe together tomorrow. Papa has a hose, and waters the garden with it, while someone pumps. He read Story of a Bad Boy. July 10th Thursday. Mamma drove me down to Lulu's and we had a nice bath. I was allowed, after some protest to wear the blue aldirondack suit in. I swam, and ducked, and splashed, and paddled. Then Mamma drove me home. July 11th Friday. Wrote to Uncle Bowman telling him 232 to expect me to morrow, and took it into Boston and posted it. Changed books, and came out with a whole armful of Thomas Hughes - two vols were T. B. at Oxford, one the Scouring of the White Horse. Picked currants with Papa to make jelly. Papa read Story of a Bad Boy. July 12th Saturday. Read T. B. at Oxford, and rather loafed about before dinner. In the afternoon went up to Uncle Bowman's. No one met me, as I thought likely, my letter having been mailed so late; so I left my cloak and umbrella at the depot and walked up with my bag. I was scared by a rather bad looking man with a stick who walked behind me, and momentarily expected to feel the said stick knock me over the head; so I finally sat down on a stone when we came near a house, and began to mop my face. He then asked me where I was going, and offered to carry my bag, saying it was rather a hard load for a girl of my size; but I declined with thanks, saying it was not very heavy, and he went on, while I followed at my leisure. July 13th Sunday. Walked with Phebe to see Uncle Stone salt the cows and mounted a rock with her to be out of the way of an unpleasant black bull, that pawed, bellowed, and eyed us with disfavor We came around by the Hemlock Hill, and the great rock on top of which Mamma used to skip rope. Went up with Phebe and saw the sea of purple hills and the sunset. July 14th Monday. Phebe has undertaken to find me something to do to stop my reading; churning; and I churned in the cellar till the butter came.July 15th [*233*] Tuesday. A telegram came to know if I had arrived safely. I telegraphed back Arrived Alive and well & right side up. Will write. Wrote accordingly, and picked a quantity of gooseberries. I remembered there used to be a small bush of them in a certain clump of rocks, and found it had spread & multiplied greatly. Went up the hill and saw the sunset- and the golden gate. And thought all sorts of things that I could not write- Pilgrim's Progress- and working and resting- and the finish and end of it. July 16th Wednesday. I lost my net when I went up the hill last night, and this morning went up again and looked for it I did not find it, but got a quart of thimble berries. Toward evening helped Mrs. Van water her garden. July 17th Thursday. Made candy after Anna's recipe. Aunt Martha & Aunt Woodward got home. July 18th Friday. Made cocoa candy after a recipe for chocolate ditto which I found in Godery. Played croquet with Phebe & beat her. July 19th Saturday. Cloudy still. Ate the cocoa candy & hunted eggs. Phebe read the Woman's Journal aloud to me to our mutual satisfaction, since our views coincide. July 20th Sunday. Went away out into the North Pasture with Uncle Bowman to salt the cows, and came home very tired. He pointed out several sepulchres on the way; said a cow died once among certain rocks and we saw the bones; and that a horse was buried where some rank grass grew. Wrote home, and went up with Phebe to see the sunset. July 21st [*234*] Monday. Phebe routed me up early by request, that I might ride down with the milk with her; which I did. We went over to the Rock house, Phebe & I, talking with us Mrs. Browning's Poems, which we frequently stopped to read. In the rock house she read me the Rhyme of the Duchess May & murdered it rather, but it gave us mutual satisfaction. There was a bird's nest on the side of one of the rocks of the rock house, and I was bound to look into it, which I succeeded in doing by scrambling with frantic efforts onto the rock & looking down. There was one young bird in it. I picked a delicate spray of leaves as a trophy to send Sir Robert and came down, stained with blak mould. We saw also the oven, a hole in a rock. July 22nd Tuesday. Drove down with Phebe for the milk and got a letter from Mamma telling me I had better come home now. Went up with Phebe, Aunt Martha & Tip to drive the cows; Aunt Martha saw them home, and P. and I went on to the top of the hill; found quantities of delicious thimbleberries, prospected for our house, and saw the sea of purple hills, the sunset & the golden gate. For the last time this visit. Sat at the foot of the old tree, and heard the wind, high, high overhead in its branches. I love that tree. July 23d Wednesday. Came home, Aunt Martha coming with me at Mamma's invitation, expressed in her letter. July 24th Thursday. Made raspberry vinegar. Cousin Clara is here, and is nicer that I expected- kind, and seemingly rather nervous. Papa & I being on the roof, he said he could recite more poetry than I but we kept it up, and the match is not over.235 July 25th Friday. Mamma, Papa, Clara, Aunt Martha and I went to Nantasket beach on the Rose Standish. Papa and I went into the water and had a nice bath. We ate where we did on our former trip, got a great basket of sand for potting this fall, and came home on the 3:30 boat. All the way out, and till I had had my bath, I was so sleepy I did not know how to hold my head up. Mamma thought it was my liver, and threatened a blue pill. I was too sleepy to think much of anything, but rather supposed it was because I got up so early at Uncle Bo's. Got home tired. [Papa read months] July 26th Saturday. Drove in with Papa, saw Clara off at the Worcester [dentist] station, and went to the dentist who sees to Dr. Moffat's patients. The teeth whose (bad grammar) filling I have been so dreading are pronounced perfectly sound, but he found and filled a cavity in a molar, and treated one as a man + a brother, not as a mere pair of jaws. The filling did not hurt much, but an extraordinary newfangled India rubber gag or muzzle which he put onto me did somewhat. Got the Athelings + 2 vols. of Vanity Fair, and drove out with Papa through clouds of dust. We got a postal card from U.S. saying that F. would arrive by a certain train, naming no day. Papa met the train, but she was not there, and after some uneasiness, much puzzling + consultation we decided that we could do nothing, and began reading Vanity Fair aloud in the evening. I like Colonel Dobbin. 236 July 27th Sunday. Drove out with Papa and Mamma. We broke a shaft; spliced it, drove on + broke it sort off [] in truing to turn in one of those no through fares Papa loves so to go into, So surely as he sees a sign "no passing through." I believe he would turn out of his way to do it. Luckily this happened near a livery stable and Papa procured a man who sliced it very cleverly, while it rained + rained! Played for Papa in the evening. Vanity Fair. July 28th Monday. Flo arrived. I saw the queerest fog bank coming in from sea when I was on the housetop watching. Went shopping in Boston with Mamma. we mutually begged each other to put on our tombstones 'Died of shopping with an unreasonable mother " " " " " impracticable daughter.' July29th Tuesday. Read + played croquet with Florence. Rode out Squantum with her, Mamma + Mike, who was rather odoriferous as usual. July 30th Wednesday. Read and played croquet. Went up onto the roof with Florence; and while there she confided to me the fact that she was engaged to be married and that I might ask her mother if I didn't believe it -- which scarcely did at first; but she soberly affirmed it. His name, as she further divulged , was Ziba Osborne; and she told various other particulars. It seems very queer to think of Floy as engaged -- our Floy, that I've played with in the sand at Martha's Vineyard, and talked to, and chattered unutterable nonsense with ever since I could chatter at all! Probably she won't marry him though -- her mother has made her promise not to do so before she is 18, and she says she doesn't mean to till she is 20.239 July 31st Thursday. Read an played croquet. I think also tried unsuccessfully as usual to write a notice of Marjory Fleming. I would like to say a good word for it, for it is really the prettiest little story I have read for ever so long, and the author's kind heart seems to beat through the whole of it. It gives one a curious feeling to be reading the letters + diaries and thinking the very thoughts of a child who has been dead nearly 70 years - it is like groping about among old fashioned furniture ancient historical furniture, only more so. I should like to see those pictures of Maidie. Aug. 1st Friday. Read and played croquet. Aunt Sarah arrived unexpectedly in the evening, and the sight of her in her black dress brought back the thought of dear little Anna very strongly. She will always be little Anna to us I suppose, even 50 years hence if I should live till then. [*Flo Floy ???*] There was a thunderstorm in the evening and Flo and I sat on the lounge in the dark and she told me about Ziba and his proposal, etc. It seemed so queer to have Flo telling me her own love story - our Floy! We sat late talking, and finally went to bed. Aug. 2nd Saturday. Drove into Boston, all of us, with Aunt Sarah. We showed Flo the mummies + pictures, and we did some shopping and on our way out called on the Miss Goddards. [?] [?] [?] talked to us was [?] a sweet 238 Aug. 3d Sunday. At supper (mine just finished). Papa said to Mamma that "I fear we have given birth to a compound of fanaticism and idiocy mingled with intense intolerance!" Oh me! And all because I object to saying yoolyoose [?iza] for Julius Caesar according to the Continental pronunciation, and last night and this morning I have been in woe over the prospect of being compelled to do so at the Chauncey Hall school. But I would rather be slaughtered - almost; and I wont I wont I wont - unless I have to. And he quoted "But I count the gray barbarian lower than the Christian child." Upon which - I called him the gray barbarian, and he denied my claim to be called the Christian Child. F. and I went to the Milton Chapel, but it was hot, and not many were there. Papa drove us over, and met us with the carriage as we were walking back. Aug. 4th Monday. Packing and disorder. Mrs. Spofford + Florence came unexpectedly. I was delighted, but ashamed to be caught dressed as I was. [*Mr Spofford Florence] The two Florences and I played croquet; little F. is very bright and well mannered. I think she will come to something - an agreeable woman probably. We had Vanity Fair read aloud on the roof and then Papa told F. + me a most absurd story after Mamma went down by moonlight. I wrote a letter to Kitty and in a [??] Sept. 12th 239 Friday. The days between this and the last entry are recorded in another diary. On this day I was disturbed in my mind on account of unbelief, doubts and faithlessness, and got comfort from reading The Life that Now is. Mamma saw that I had been crying and wanted me to tell why, as did Papa, but I couldn't. I said it was nothing she was to blame for, as she seemed to suspect she had hurt my feelings; only a little private worry of my own. Feeling much better after a bit of sharp and appropriate rebuke which I came across in the sermon, and duly took to myself. I rode into Boston, changed a book and bought Marjorie Fleming for Kitty, or had Papa buy it. We rode out again, and before doing so I had some soda water. Vanity Fair in the evening. Sept. 13th Saturday. Tried to mark drawers with very bad success. However, my clothes will now be known as well perhaps by large blurrs as by distinct names. Picked up my dinner, Mamma and Papa being gone. Read The Surgeon's Daughter. Sept. 14th Sunday. Got into bed with my parients and while there was presented with a pair of gold studs, a hand glass (to see myself as others see me, if I can, Mamma said) a silver fruit knife and a silver thimble. At breakfast we had honey, peaches and candies. Read Mr. Collyer's sermons, and in the afternoon rode over with Papa and Mamma to Mr. Garrison's. He treated me very kindly, but said things about Gen. Butler which made me glower darkly at him not withstanding. Socked our wheel in trying to turn around "to go a new way" Vanity Fair in the evening. [*Garrison and Gen Butler*] Sept. 15th 240 Monday. Went into Boston with my parents and took dinner at a little restaurant with Miss Person and follower. Was taken to the Chaucy Hall School by Mamma, and exhibited to Mr. Ladd and Miss Smith, the teacher of mathematics. Was much interested and somewhat appalled by the sight of a great hall full of boys. I am to begin tomorrow. [*Chauncy Hall School*] Sept. 16th Tuesday. Found myself on going to school the only girl in a Latin class of small boys, among whom I towered up like a watermelon among peaches. They blundered abominably and I found the Continental prs. even worse than I expected. I got along pretty well with the girls, especially little Georgie, who is out of sight ahead of me in her studies. They showed me the orchestra gallery, a favorite resort, the charms of which are enhanced by the danger of Mr. Cushing catching sight of the tops of our heads. A dirty, cramped hole, but seemingly much liked. A dirty, vast, confused medley it seemed to me, and I did not like it. I never knew what lesson came next, and found that I had nothing to do a large part of the time, which was very stupid. I came home by the 3 o'clock train, so tired I could hardly have got up energy enough to run and meet Kitty even. [*at Chauncy Hall School co-ed*] Sept. 17th Wednesday. I liked it better at school, but it is very unpleasant that I who would about as lief have a garter snake near me as a boy, should be the one girl in classes of from 20 up to the 50's. A pale,[*241*] dark haired and eyed, gentle acting girl named Miss Turner is with me in the algebra, and she very kindly explained it to me at lunch, as it was all Greek to me. I think I shall like her. Not so tired, perhaps because today I did not go up to the office for letters. Was shown my French teacher and had a lesson set me. Sept. 18th Thursday. [ Recited to my odd old French teacher, and had the pleasure of hearing him say "Vary well" "Mees Blackwell."] School as usual. Nothing particular. I am getting a little more used to it. Papa brought me a letter from Flo, which I tore up as directed. I feel very uneasy about her; she says there has been and explosion about P. Augustus. I am afraid she will get into very hot water if she doesn't look out. Vanity Fair. Sept. 19th Friday. Recited to my odd old French teacher, who calls me "Mees Blackwell," and said "Vary well' when I had recited. Was thankful to remember there was no school Saturday. Vanity Fair and a fight with Papa! Sept. 20th Saturday. A music lesson. Miss Person and Lucy Chadburne came out to spend Sunday. Poor little Miss P. will get good from it Phebe. She needs it. It must be horrid to be always shut up in the city. Flo sent me a letter sealed & stamped, requesting me to direct it to her at Finderne in a gentleman's hand and post it. Which I did. I said F. had made a most extraordinary request of me, being in much amazement & bewilderment, [*242*] but when Mamma wanted to know what it was I didn't think it quite fair to F. to tell her. But when I had directed it behind her back she declared she knew what it was [and]; that F. wanted me to direct a letter to a boy, and that it was very wicked; and I interrupted and said it was only to herself at which Mamma expressed great relief. Went down to Field's Corner and posted it. Sept. 21st Sunday. We drove over (without Mamma) to the Quincy Granite Quarries for ferns, and got a variety of treasures. There was a quantity of young men on the top, which was a nuisance, as they lay behind rocks and poked up their heads like turtles to look at us; but we didn't stay there long. We drove home by the dragons. Miss Person. went back to the city. Sept. 22nd Monday. After school fell to work and potted a quantity of geraniums. A very odd thing happened at school; I brought in my French excercise, and laid it on Monsieur's table when demanded; during the lesson discovered a mistake I had made, and when we were through asked for it back to correct it; but it wasn't in the pile of books or anywhere to be found. Going back upstairs I found it in my desk. If I had not so distinct a remembrance of handing it in I might know what to make of it; as it is, I well nigh believe in spirits. Sept. 23d Thursday. Georgie Townsend and I stayed in the lunch room after the rest went,243 turning out the gas lest Mr. Cushing should make a raid upon us, and then spouted poetry to one another to our mutual satisfaction, till my conscience misgave me that I ought to be reciting. Wrote part of a letter to Kitty. Mamma in bed with a bad cold. Sept. 24th Wednesday. School. Practiced. Mamma up and better. My eyes bad. Sept. 25th Thursday. School. Felt very tired and didn't practice. Eyes bad. Mamma wants to write to Mrs. Spofford and tell what I said about Harry, and I am willing, if Mrs. S. doesn't tell him. Mamma says she is very wise, which I believe, and won't; so I don't mind. But I am disgusted both with Harry and myself; with myself for not keeping my unruly member quieter, and with him for taking jokes seriously, being hurt [and] without reason, and taking offense where none was meant. Sept. 26th Friday. School and French lesson. Brought home some French to translate. Called on Emma [?] [Mar?] Sept. 27th Saturday. Music lesson. Agnes came up, and we gave her grapes and pears. She said it seemed like Paradise up here. Pam to row with her on Saturday. Sept. 28th Sunday. Did not go to church. Read, and played hymns to Papa in the evening. Vanity Fair. Sept. 29th Monday. A letter from Kitty. Rode home with Mamma. Sept. 30th Tuesday. Rainy. School and practicing much as usual. 244 Oct. 1st Wednesday. As I stood in the lunch room studying my French, waiting till it should be time to go to French, Mr. Herbert came in from the orchestra gallery to my dismay, and said "Ah? How is it? Recess?" I explained the state of the case, and on demand the state of the case which made me be absent from Latin in the morning, and he said "Ah!" and departed. Mamma and Papa away, and I had supper + chocolate in solitary state, and got nervous in the evening, with the library and fire and silver basket all to myself. Walked to N. Quincy. Oct. 2nd Thursday. Knew my Latin well, which was lucky, as Mr. Demerit was in a very bad temper, and several small boys caught it severely. Battalion Drill again. I am determined to practice at home till I get as limber as old Mr. Cushing. My pride in my suppleness is greatly taken down. Passing by the door of Room 2. I saw Mr. Herbert sitting with a large green blinder over one eye, which made him resemble a prize fighter. Made inquiry and found that he wears it to keep the sun out of his eyes. Oct. 3d Friday. School and practicing much as usual. Walked over to N. Quincy. We had fun in French class, till I hid my face in my book for laughing. The professor is rather given to jokes in his queer English, and one boy had his lesson abominably, which produced laughter. Read extracts from Carlyle's Past + Present to Mamma.Oct. 4 [*245*] Saturday. Went out rowing with Agnes Reed. Her father showed me the divers and pile-driving. The divers are laying a wall underwater. Only one was at work, and he, in his hideously absurd dress, looked like the Sittle Master in Sintram, to my thinking. We had a nice row, I rowing all the time, sometimes with one oar, and a good while with both, while Agnes sat in the stern and laughed at my awkward gambols and splashing. It was jolly but fatiguing. A large ship bore down on us, and we rowed desperately to get out of the way; but the ship ran aground in the mud, and we rowed toward and circumnavigated her. Oct. 5th Sunday. Kitty's birthday. Last night I calculated Swiss time, and drank her health ten minutes after midnight by it, while it was yet the 4th with us. Made grape jelly, till I hated the sight and smell thereof. Oct. 6th Monday. Came out on the 3.35 train, after changing Mt. Washington in Winter for At the Back of the North Wind. Miss Eastman came out, and the evening a little informal meeting was held at our house, about the formation of a Woman's Suffrage political club. I went to bed at about 8.15 while the people were still arriving. [*formation of Woman's Suff. Pol. Club*] Oct. 7th Tuesday. Rainy. School much as usual. Military drill. Practiced. Oct. 8th Wednesday. School. Picked petunia seeds; practiced. Vanity Fair. Talked a few minutes with Chase. Oct. 9th Thursday. A letter from Nelly Hooper. She [*246*] has misunderstood me, and says things, or rather insinuates things about Robert Collyer and Tom Hughes, for which I shall give it her severely. Mr. Cushing being a saint and Mr. Ladd an angel, they have given us holiday, till next Tuesday. But there;s a compo to write. Oct. 10th Friday. Wrote to Nelly, and gave it her. Got the long-expected letter from Kitty, and she asked 14 questions and seemed in as great fits over Flo's engagement as I could desire. Answered the letter. Oct. 11th Saturday. Rode into Boston with Mamma, and found Emma in the Journal Office. Changed book, and bought sealing wax, and went with Emma and Miss Eastman to hear Brougham. Didn't like it much; couldn't hear very well. Was rather amusing though. Home with Emma. Oct. 12th Sunday. Wrote out my composition for the first time. Went into Boston with Emma to hear Mr. Murray. The sermon made Emma cry. He was talking of his father's death and burial, and I knew she thought of Anna. I believe Mr. Murray is a good man. After sermon we got some lunch and then attended a spiritual meeting, which was very stupid, there were no manifestations. After which Emma trapsed about in search of Maud Lord, towing reluctant me after her. Miss Lord had left the city, but we found plenty of other mediums, and got very tired. Oct. 13th Monday. Finished my composition and walked to Mt. Quincy.Oct. 14th [*247*] Tuesday. Gave in my composition. School & practicing. Oct. 15th Wednesday. Said my piece to Miss Sadd in No. 3. She said I had such a good clear voice that she should think I would make a beautiful reader; which flattered me exceedingly, it being Miss Sadd. Went and called on Mrs. Smith. She was very glad to see me, and we talked away very sociably. She set me going; and told me various things, and about some cases in the house, and I exploded, in a milder manner than usual, but happening to look up caught sight of my face in the glass and was startled to see how flushed I was. And Mrs. S. when I told her how mad it made me, hearing of such things said "Ah, this will all come out in good work some day." Amen. I had to run for the 3.35 train. She is rather sentimental sometimes, as I said, but good, and devotes herself to fighting the wickedest thing in the world; so I heartily respect her. Oct. 16th Thursday. School and practicing. No letters. Emma somewhat blue and my cold bad. Oct. 17th Friday. School, of course, and practicing ditto. Went up to the office, and while there Mamie Molineux and mother came in. Mrs. M. wanted to inquire whether the Technological Institute is open to girls. Oct. 18th Saturday. Emma and I went into Boston to write wrappers under Papa's orders, which we did. Mr. Campbell came in. He had a presentiment something had happened to Mrs. C. and I was anxiously expecting a letter from her. He has been in to see Miss Nickerson, and thinks she is both honest and nice. Raced for our train, did the distance in 13 minutes, and caught it. [*248*] Oct. 19th Sunday. Emma & I went in to the Spirtiual Meeting for the second time, with our sealed questions, which we duly gave in, keeping a wary eye upon them to see that they were not tampered with. The answers were scrawled and nearly illegible, and did not apply, convincing us that this medium at least is a humbug. I asked if Kitty was a habitual medium, and was told to seek and I should find; and whether mediums did eventually lose their strength of mind, and was told to come in faith and receive a reply. We mutually assured each other that it was humbug, and went home convinced of that pleasing fact. We had to wait some minutes for the station to be opened, and while promenading slowly under the station roof away from the rain, were insulted by some idle youths there congregated. Oct. 20th Monday. Wet. School of course. Oct. 21st Tuesday. My letter came at last. Emma said it had, and while I was rummaging Papa's satchel for it, I was horror stricken to find therein the letter to Kitty which I gave him to post the other day. I blew him up, and departed. Kitty is worried about Flo, and vexed that she did not tell her, and hurt, what's worse, and I am troubled about it. I thought Kitty would be mad, and therefore vexed & savage, but not that it would hurt her feelings. Oct. 22nd Wednesday. School. Wrote to Kitty, and felt unhappy in my mind. Vanity Fair. Oct. 23d Thursday. Mamie Molineux invited me to spend249 Friday afternoon with her. Which invitation I gladly accepted. Mamma, Emma and I pulped grapes in the evening. Felt miserable and faithless again. Oct. 24th Friday. I have been to see Mamie Molineux. Oh, it was so ridiculous! She showed me her cats, and her mother, and various curious and beautiful things of which they seem to have a great stock, and as we were at the window examining a drawer of lovely Californian pebbles, when Mamie exclaimed "There's Arthur Chamberlain coming!" "Coming here?" cried I, jumping up in alarm, and seeing a boy coming along the street. "yes," said she; "don't you want to see him? He won't want to see you either," and with much laughter from Mamie I retired to her little study and was there shut in, while she went to let him in. He was taken into the parlor, and every now and then Mrs. M. or Mamie would come in to me and sit down and laugh. It seems that he is as direfully afraid of girls as I am of boys, but not of Mamie, as she is his old friend and playmate. But as he came along, so Mamie with much laughter confided to me, he thought "Suppose Miss Rand should be there!" Miss R. is the other girl in our class. The thought was fearful, but he proceeded. But when he reached the corner he thought "Suppose Miss Blackwell should be there?" He wavered, but came on - and caught sight of me at the window. He decided not to run away however, and his courage was rewarded by finding I had fled. I recovered courage as soon as I found that he was shy too, and apparently my flight produced the same effect 250 upon him. But he would not come down to supper, and retreated to my place of refuge, the study where I caughted sight of him crouched over a book when I came upstairs again. I instantly stole away and concealed myself behind the stairs, out of sight of the study door. Mamie came up behind me, and went and closed it, and then came to me, laughing intensely. I rushed into the parlor with a tragic gesture - and started back in horror at the sight of an old gentleman seated at the farther end of the room and looking at me. I retreated, horror stricken and told Mamie. I thought she would have laughed herself into a fit. She told her mother who laughed likewise (it was Mamie's grandfather I had seen) and I received directions for my way and went But it was too absurd, the whole thing. I wonder how we shall look when we see one another Monday! Probably we shall not see one another. I walked across to the South Boston Depot, took my train when it came and got home after dark. Oct. 25th Saturday. Potted, with Mamma, and took my last music lesson of Lily Morse. "We parted; sweetly gleamed the" sun, and I am really sorry to have seen the last of her, though the practicing was a dreadful bore. Vanity Fair - Mamma slept through it. Oct. 26th Sunday. We took a long ride over toward the Blue Hill to see Autumn colours. Oct. 27th Monday. Fiercely rainy. Did not try to stare Arthur Chamberlain out of countenance and took no special notice of him.251 Oct. 28th Tuesday. School of course, much as usual. Oct. 29th Wednesday. Miss Rand and I had our compositions corrected. Miss Newhall said mine was very good, and asked me where I got the quotation "He that hath his our world hath many worlds more." In arithmetic we hardly recited at all, for Miss S. and the boys somehow got switched off upon the subject of honesty and dishonesty as concerned in the passing of railroad tickets and picking up of money, and engaged in a violent discussion which lasted till the bell rang. I wholly agreed with Miss Smith but so did not all the boys. Went up to the office and inquired when I could catch Mr. Fisk; Miss Person said he wouldn't be in till 3.30. I made up my mind to wait for him and go without my dinner, but he came in much sooner. He promised that if I would come in the next day he would show me his panorama of Athens "and give me all the information he could. Oct. 30th Thursday. Went up to the office after school. Mr. Fisk came in prompt to time, loaded with pictures and the panorama, which we spread out on the floor. As a preliminary he presented Miss Person and myself with two lovely little carnelian crosses. He showed and explained and talked away volubly, and every now and then raced up to his room to get something illustrative of the case in point. He gave me no end of pictures for my parents and lent me a beautiful great book from which to extract information, with many charges to be careful of it. He sat down and let himself be questioned like a lamb. And finally, I told him my essay would astonish my teachers, and he gave a shriek of laughter, and scuttled away. 252 Oct. 31st Friday. Recited Scott to Mr. Ladd for the first time. It was awful. I am much more afraid of him than of Mr. Cushing; Mr. C. gets into fearful rages sometimes, but Mr. Ladd's cold sharp saw-like temper and unvarying savageness is a great deal worse. Got some composition papers. Nov. 1st Saturday. Wrote at my composition. Went down to Field's Corner for a walk. Nov. 2nd Sunday. Wrote at my composition. Went after sweet acorns for a walk, but did not get many. Papa had a Woman's Rights politician come up to see him. Nov. 3rd Monday. Did not feel very well, and ate no breakfast. Gave in my composition. Walked over to Neponset. Nov. 4th Tuesday. I am to be alone most of the rest of this week. Therefore coming home from school I bought chocolate, with which to comfort myself evenings. Bought a new watch key, and punched Mr. Cushing. I ached to the first thing he invited us girls to try our strength on him. This time he repeated his offer. I didn't quite dare speak before all of them, but when we had broken ranks and were going out, I said to him "I think I could hurt you, Mr. Cushing." He very readily planted himself before me, but looked at me and said "You needn't hit but once, though; I don't know but you are stronger than the others." So I hit him and knocked him backwards - as we all go when he says "Backward - march!" He said I was stronger than the others. I said I hoped I had not hurt him and he said "Oh no." Mamma being away, I took the opportunity to put a large mustard plaster on myself, having a pain in my chest. I did not raise blisters this time though.253 Nov. 5th Wednesday. Began to correct my composition with Miss Newhall, but we did not have time to finish. We had a difference as to the using of a capital, and she quoted Carlyle at me, but I denied his being an authority. He uses words that would condemn any composition, I'm sure; beautifuller, for instance. But his authority was on my side, for as Miss N. said, he begins nearly all his [words] nouns with at capital, and I wanted to spell bay with one. The girls at recess discussed the relative beauty of the various boys at school in a way that surprised me greatly. I wonder if boys talk such stuff about us? This one was "as handsome as he could be," that one "not exactly handsome, but very pretty;" one "perfectly elegant," and another "so cunning!" as if he had been a sweet infant of six months old. I couldn't help thinking that if I had been a boy I would not have been flattered to have the girls talk of me so. Nov. 6th Thursday. We drilled with guns for the first time. It was very pretty to see the "veterans" go through the manual alone. Florence Schenck, when they go into the position to charge bayonets, looks like the picture of the Goddess of Liberty, being of a full figure, whether real or make believe I don't know. Mr. Cushing is very particular not to have the boys see us drill, and generally locks the doors. Today he didn't - one at least, and while we all stood drawn up, with our guns, in line, the door opened, and young Leland came in - a young man whose bright eyes and dapper appearance always remind me of a frog. As soon as he was heard at the door handle Mr. Cushing threw himself into position to charge him with his gun the moment the door opened. He dropped the letters on a seat and Mr. C. drove him out. 254 Nov. 7th Friday. Finished correcting my composition with Miss Newhall. Emily Ladd stood by and listened to part of the correcting, and told me afterward that she was going to get and read it. Florence's 17th birthday. Nov. 8th Saturday. Mamma did not come. In the dusk sat over the fire and sang doleful ballads and meditated, and enjoyed myself in a quiet way, "taking my pleasure sorrowfully after the manner of my nation." Nov. 9th Sunday. My parents came home, or rather I saw them for the first time. I took a short walk with Papa. Nov. 10th Monday. Miss Smith made me put a question on the blackboard for the first time. I did it with fear and trembling but got it right. Nov. 12th Tuesday. Misconducted myself in school. While we were eating our lunch I sat by the door, and drew out the key and hid it in my pocket. The lower half of the door of course was locked, so "When they would have gone, they found no way to go." I stood apart and watched while they all clustered around the door and Florence precipitated herself against it, till to my horror I caught sight of Miss Smith on the other side of the door, shaking it. I thought that if the authorities were up it was about time to be rid of the key, which I accordingly dropped among the feet of the girls, and then suggested that it might be on the floor. There it was found (of course) upon search, and I got off without suspicion. Being still evilly disposed, and Georgie Townsend having rooted out a placard with "Clothes Room" printed on it in large letters, I pinned the same same upon the door of the janitor's bed, which is a ward-robe by day.[255] Nov. 13th Wednesday. The day Miss Barney and I ought to have spoken our pieces, but we both declared our determination not to speak till we were called for. Poor Miss Land has a felon on her finger. Nov. 14th Thursday. Drill again. Mr. Cushing said we should take our guns to the lunch room and the veterans should each drill a raw recruit in private. We marched upstairs in line, carrying our guns, to the uproarious delight of the primary scholars who glared upon us as if we were the King of China. Nov. 15th Friday. At recess we tried to have a little private drill, plastering with paper the chinks of the door from the curiosity of the primary and passing scholars. I have learned one new motion at least. The boys read miserably, vilely, at French translation, all but Peter and maybe one more. After I had read one boy remarking that I had not read to the end of the lesson, the professor said that I had read enough, and as well as all of them put together. Nov. 16th Saturday. Mamma went away. I went in to Boston with her, and when she had left, started from the office to call on Mrs. Smith. As I came down Tremont Alley, a gentleman entered at the other end, and grinned cheerfully at me. It was Uncle George! I could hardly believe my eyes at first; but it was he. His steamer had unexpectedly changed its destination, and came to Boston, instead of N.Y. We agreed to meet at a certain train, and I went down a[nd] called on Mrs. Smith. We talked as usual. U. G. found fault with me at supper for calling him Sir, as not proper in families, and [256] when I brought out my French lesson to translate, made me read to him. He denounced my French professor as an Italian who had taught me the Italian pronunciation, and took me up on nearly every word till I leaned back in my chair and laughed myself almost into a fit. He finally took to perusing my French reader on his own hook. Nov. 17th Sunday. Displayed Uncle G. triumphantly to P &M, who had arrived in the night. A violent storm in the midst of which Uncle G. started for N.Y. Nov. 18th Monday. In French the boys made a botch of their translating, and when I have done my[ne] reading he said "This I call translating; this is not guessing but translating, and giving the meaning of every word, and very good meanings, too." Nov. 19th Tuesday. A storm. Mamma did not want me to go to school, but I was bound & determined to go. Finally, she said that if I went, I went without her consent and against her judgment; and if I was prepared to go on those terms, I might go. I went. My conscience troubled me all day, and I begged pardon when I got home, but Mamma had about made up her mind she had been mistaken, as the storm had subsided. A letter from Floy to say her engagement is about broken off. Mamma left in the evening. Nov. 20 Wednesday. Boy's declamation. [B] Went up after school to the Atheneum to consult the Encyclopedia about my composition. Found lots of information.[257] Nov. 21st Thursday. Drill again. Brought out papers. Miss Newhall read me some poetry by one of the boys, and proposed I should write a poetical composition sometime. Nov. 22nd Friday. My first quarrel at school When I got there in the morning, I found the girls congregated in the dressing room whispering, and soon found that they were all abusing Mamie Molineux because she had reported some boys who were annoying the girls while drilling after school, to Mr. Cushing. He rushed upstairs two steps at a time, seized a couple of the wrong boys, marched them downstairs and marked them a double penalty. The girls all sided against Mamie, and talked about tale-bearing. At recess I heard Mamie's side of the story. She sat by herself in the door off the balcony, and we ate our lunch at the table. She went out afterwards, and the abuse of her continued. Florence Schenck headed it, and raked up all sorts of [al] old stories against Mamie, and accused her of meanness and no end of things. She lost her temper or she wouldn't have said them. I had defended Mamie from the beginning, and told she thought she must be mistaken. When she repeated her statement in a still more violent manner, I lost my temper and told her flatly that I didn't believe her. We both cooled down afterward, and made it up. Miss Rand, Florence, George Townsend and I stayed in the lunch room after the others left, and backbit our teachers to our mutual satisfaction. Nov. 28th Saturday. Wrote on my composition. Miss Person [258] and Mr. Miller came out and spent the evening, [a] I being alone. And he talked predestinarianism, a thing I hate. I held up my fist by the lamp shade, and said I could smash it or not, as I chose. He said I couldn't smash it. Of course that wasn't to be borne, and I immediately struck it. It crashed, but did not break. He afterwards denied having said what [was] he did, and begged the question and twisted about like an eel. I hate him. If Miss P. marries him she will throw herself away. Nov. 24th Sunday. Took a ride and wrote on my composition. Nov. 25th Monday. Gave in my composition. Prof. Torrichelli [in] addressed the French class as "Gentlemen" adding with a grin "and ladies." The class giggled, and I being the only girl, turned red. Nov. 26th Tuesday. Snowy and soppy. Miss Newhall lent Freeman's History to Miss Rand and me that we might read up about the return of Godwin. Mamma went away. Alone studying in the evening. Nov. 27th Wednesday. At French [I] the boys, according to the Professor, had made dreadful work of their exercises. Emerson said he had spent an hour over his, and several declared it was no use, that they could not write exercises, and would not try any more. Torrichelli suddenly appealed to me, to my great consternation, and demanded to know how I wrote mine. I said I couldn't without a dictionary, and he gave the class a lecture. Miss Rand and I being desperate to know what our Latin lesson was I screwed up my courage and asked Crossby, who was sitting in the desk in front of me.[259] He told me with much politeness, and I am beginning to think that a boy, a small one at least, is not such a formidable creature as I thought. Georgie Townsend and I chalked and black-leaded each other. After school I went with Mamma and bought a dress. Nov. 28th Thursday. Thanksgiving day. Made mince pies in the morning, and took a walk with Papa to Neponset, along the railroad and home by the Granite Bridge station. Nov. 29th Friday. Mary Fifield and Lulu[e] called in the evening. Nov. 30th Saturday. Mamie came out by invitation and spent the day. We chattered, and she gave me her version of Florence Schenck's slanderous stories. We took a drive, but it was cold. She said she had had a lovely time, and I was very glad to hear it, for Papa + Mamma were away, and I don't in the least know how to entertain company. I hope she meant it. Dec. 1st Sunday. Looked over Vick's catalogue and discussed with my parents the question of my taking extra Latin. Dec. 2nd Monday. Actually spoke to another small boy - Emery - this time about the lesson in Scott. Dec. 3d Tuesday. When we assembled to deferred Scott, and were spending the time before Miss Ladd appeared chiefly in frantic inquiries of [?] one another, chiefly about the meaning of words, I actually exchanged a few words with Brewer - the biggest boy I have ventured to speak to yet. Dec. 4th Wednesdays. I had to leave out one sum, not having [260] time to finish it, to my great disgust, as it is the first time it has happened. When I came in to French lecture and sat down, Brewer turned round and showed me the place, and afterward picked up my pencil when I dropped it. Went to be measured for my dress. Dec. 4th Thursday. A hard headache, owing I think to worrying over English History and Latin. Went and was fitted and brought home my dress. Dec. 5th Friday. As I was leaving the hall [before] after being checked I heard someone calling to me, and found it was Mr. Demerit, who came out from his hedge of benches and smilingly informed me that my [father] father had spoken to Mr. Ladd about my rushing off without breakfast in the morning, and that instead of reciting with my class, if I would come to him after school with a well-prepared lesson, he would hear me then. I thanked him and rushed up to the Journal office raging and exploded to Mamma. Got the Boy in Grey from the library and drove home with Mamma. Dec. 6th Saturday. Went into Boston with Mamma on various errands. Changed a book at the Public Library, and came up to the office, where I joined Mamma, and we went to buy Christmas presents. We got two pairs of vases and a kitchen, and I, having had some dinner, went up to the Atheneum to look up pictures to describe in my composition. And the first person I came upon in the rooms was that Cushing boy, of all persons in the world. He held out his hand and said how do you do, and I made some absurd and incoherent[261] remarks in answer, being much taken aback. It makes me mad with myself to think how I behaved, though I suppose he [h] did not notice it. [?] I afterwards noticed several other boys in my class in the rooms, all there for the same purpose that I was. I'm afraid I did not pay very good attention to the pictures, for I felt dreadfully uncomfortable. I made my notes, however, had a little more conversation with the Cushing boy, and came out home, where I acted so absurdly that Mamma, whom I had of course told about it, finally asked me point blank, after regarding me suspiciously, whether it was meeting those boys that had made me feel so. I said I supposed it was; for I was in constant fits of inward laughter remembering how absurdly I had behaved. I wish I was not such a fool! Dec. 7th Sunday. Wrote up my diary, and read Shields, and went over to Milton Chapel, which I regret, as it made me uncomfortable. Took two short rides with my parents, and finished translating my French. Dec. 8th Monday. Went up to the Atheneum after school to study up about painting in the Cyclopedia. Dec. 9th Tuesday. Went up to the Atheneum picture gallery with Miss Turner, but the light was so bad we might nearly as well have stayed away. Dec. 10th Wednesday. A note from Florence. Went up again to the Atheneum to study the Encyclopedia. Dec. 11th Thursday. Willie Emerson made such a fool of 262 himself in history that I am disgusted with him. Mr. Herbert came in and supervised our drill, and after it was over the girls rushed upstairs and congregated in the upper hall, cursing him with gestures of fury. Dec. 12th Friday. Examination in Arithmetic. Found to my horror, upon consultation with Miss Rand that one question at least I had wrong. Dec. 13th Saturday. Everybody away. Tried to write at my composition, but did not get on very well. Dec. 14th Sunday. Wrote at my composition, and finished copying it after 8 PM. Drove over to the quarries to get evergreens for mottoes for tomorrows explosion. Dec. 15th Monday. After school went up to the office, where I found the long expected letter from Kitty awaiting me. As I plunged at it one of the ladies said "How her eyes brighten up!" I read it waiting for my dinner at Marston's, and finished it in Faneuil Hall, whither I then went to our tea party. [*Suffrage tea party*] I saw my teacher Miss Smith outside the door and she spoke to me. Emma and I sat in the gallery. Wendell Phillips and Mr. Garrison & Mrs. Livermore & Stephen Foster & Fred Douglass and a lot more of our folks spoke. Wendell P. is much finer looking than I thought him at first sight. Mamma made the most eloquent speech I ever heard from her. I came across Mrs. Woolson in the audience, and had a few words with her. She looked as nice and sharp & wicked & charming as ever. There was a tremendous crush at supper [*Lucy Stone's speech][263] and Emma, Miss Person & I were squeezed flat. We waited till every one was gone, and then drove home. I was frighted half out of my wits by our being nearly run over by a fire engine which came tearing upon us around a corner. I got a few words from Mr. Garrison near the last, as he was going away. We all thought it had been a great success. Dec. 16th Tuesday. Miss Smith complimented Mamma and her speech very highly when she met me at school in the morning. I agreed with her, and told her I was proud of my mother. She said I ought to, or to that effect, and kissed me, of which I was glad, as I like her. [*Praise for L. Stone*] Miss Newhall also complimented the speech in her fashion, as we came upstairs. In the evening [I} Mamma, Emma & myself went to the other women's tea-party - the non-suffrage one - but found it very stupid, that is I did, and was glad to come away and get home. Dec. 17th Wednesday. It's very aggravating to be asked inconvenient questions! Miss Rand was telling Miss Turner how a friend of hers, (Miss R's) had accused her (Miss R.) of being self conceited, and Miss T. said she thought [I] she was not, and appealed to me for my opinion. Now I do think she is conceited - very - but I said I thought she didn't look like it, that being the best way I thought of to get out of it. Dec. 18th Thursday. [W???d] Stephen Foster was in the office when I came in, and Mamma introduced me to him. He was much delighted at several things which I very [*meets Stephen Foster*] 264 innocently happened to say - once at finding I was a Butterite, and again at a comment I made upon something Papa said, and he talked very pleasantly to me as we went with Mamma down to Marston's for dinner. Dec. 19th Friday. Had the signs wrong in half my algebra examples. They were a new kind and Miss Rand wouldn't let me see hers, saying she hadn't time. She often insists on seeing mine when I am dreadfully hurried, and I was quite mad with her. I wanted to cry in class, but was bound I wouldn't till I could do it privately, and then I diddn't care to. I told Miss Smith and Miss Ladd about it in after I had got over it, while I was flinging on my things to go home, chattering wild nonsense as usual, I suppose, for Miss Smith laughed and Miss Ladd looked at me with amiable amusement, as if I were an interesting wild kangaroo from the Carribee Islands. No letter from Kitty. Dec. 20th Saturday. Spent the morning in Boston, shopping Christmas presents with Emma. Got Vol. 1. of Pendennis, and Ravenshoe to read on the way to New Jersey. Read Pendennis in the afternoon, and am delighted with Laura and like Warrington too thus far. Dec. 21st Sunday. Went with Emma to hear Mr. Murray preach, but there was a choral service instead. Read Pendennis. Dec. 22nd Monday. Did the arithmetic for 2 days in advance at school, and went and got the 2nd vol Pendennis. Then went to 6 Oak Pl., being[265] bound to have the next number of the Home Guardian before going south, if possible. Mrs. Smith said the magazines had not come from the printers, but she was expecting them every minute, so I waited, and read Pendennis. Was furious because Laura did not marry Warrington, with whom I am decidedly in love. He was worth six of that miserable, misanthropic, dandyfied Pen. Got my Guardian, and left. Dec. 23d Tuesday. Went into Boston with Papa, and was put into the cars and started for N.Y. Rode all day, got there, and found Uncle G. waiting for me. He took me to 20th St. and I had my first view of the new house. Was put to sleep in a queer little room with 2 windows. Dec. 24th Wednesday. At breakfast presented the spoons, knives and forks sent by Papa to the N.Y. family. Went up and saw the nursery. Went out to Somerville with Aunt Ellen and Nannie. Uncle Sam met us and drove us up, and I had a confab with Flo. Dec. 25 [Found] Thursday. F. and I found peanuts, etc. in our stockings, and devoured them. After Uncle G. and Aunt Emily arrived, bringing Nina, we were [let] allowed to assist at the stripping of the tree, to which the children had had free access all the morning. It was a scandalous breach of custom, and they had made themselves acquainted with the destination of nearly every interesting looking article [266] and had not kept 'hands off,' though strictly ordered to do so. However, the giving of the presents caused great commotion. When a rather soft package was given me, I pinched it, to judge of its contents by the feeling, to the alarm of Uncle G., who was standing by me, and cautioned me not to squeeze it; whereby I guessed he knew what was in it. It proved to be a beautiful necklace and bracelets of little pearly Venetian shells strung together with tiny beads. I found afterwards that they were from him. I had also a copy of Scott's poems, a breast pin to match my sleeve buttons, a pair of skates, comb, penholder, pencil, etc, and a little book from Edie. Also a knife. After the presents were given, Uncle G., who had misbehaved somewhat during the process, proceeded to make a pest of himself generally, stealing our presents, especially a bunch of bananas which belonged to me, and over which we had violent battles. He found me pretty strong, I think. Finally he cast F. and Edie & myself in a heap on the floor amid hideous remonstrance, but his hair was in great disorder, and he had to retire and brush it carefully over the bald spot, before he could appear at dinner. After dinner he went away, and finally Christmas was over. At dinner U.S. asked me where I should be spending Christmas if I could choose. I promptly said Rome. Dec. 26th Friday. A snowstorm. Drove down to Somerville with U.S. and Aunt N. In the evening, while F. and I sat over the fire, she said, after we [*US Uncle Sam + Nellie][267] had confabbed awhile, that she knew it was very dreadful, but she didn't believe in woman's rights! I saw she expected me to be horrified and explode so I asked coolly why. She said she didn't want to vote. I asked her if that was any reason why I shouldn't, and she said that it wasn't the voting that she minded so much, but that she thought married women oughtn't to have professions, etc; went over the usual rigmarole in fact, and said that the sentiments expressed in "Only a Girl" a most aggravating book which Aunt N. & I had joined in abusing, were hers exactly. I didn't take the trouble to argue much with her, but told her she would come around when woman's rights became fashionable; which remark she took with great good humor. Wrote to Kitty Dec. 27th Saturday. Hoped for a letter from Kitty, but got none. Flo & I got out the old Planchette which Aunt M. used to use, and tried it secretly in the evening, in the parlor, with closed doors. but it wouldn't [work] go for us; only scratched a little. Dec. 28th Sunday. We had meeting - one of U. S.'s pleasant home meetings. It took one so long to choose what to learn, [b] that I did not know it very well. It was that splendid bit about Lord being - 'A very present help in time of trouble"- and the wilderness & solitary place blossoming as the rose," etc. [268] Also we were besieged in the dining room, F & I, and had a tremendous time. Dec. 28th Monday. Read, & chopped up head cheese for Aunt Nellie. Dec. 30th Tuesday. Flo showed me Aunt Elizabeth's letter, which she had accused me of bringing on her. It was a very nice letter. Miss Anthony's lecture was in the evening, and everyone went down to it but Gracie and either Agnes or Ethel, I forget which. Gracie had been lotting all the week on having me that evening to tell her stories. She is a dear little thing, Gracie, th[r]ough just at the awkward, scraggly age, and with a voracious appetite for fairy stories. I was afraid I might not know enough to fill up the evening till, bed-time, but as it turned out, we sat up till ever so much o'clock, telling & listening. I like Gracie. Dec. 31st Wed. Miss Anthony was there. She and Aunt N. talked gossip in the parlor, and Miss A. took notice of me in quite an embarrassing way, and also of Flo, and asked me about Mamma. I don't much like Miss A. She strikes me as being tall, sharp, dictatorial, conceited, pugnacious & selfish. Also plucky, undoubtedly. Got a letter from Mamma. Jan. 1, '74 Thursday. Said Goodbye to Aunt N. & went into N. Y. with U. S., Flo and Agnes. We ate our New Year's dinner (the pudding was kept for supper) and then Uncle G. proposed that we should go to Central[269] Park. It is not so pleasant in winter with the snow cleared off the paths, but we went and saw the wild beasts, and I made up my mind, not for the first time, that I could not possibly have been a Christian Martyr. There was a great crowd in the monkey room and it smelt horribly, so I was glad when we left it, though the monkeys were very queer, and one fellow with a small body and legs and tail of startling length moved about constantly, looking like a great black spider. We looked through the windows of the building where most of the beasts are, and had a very good view. There were two small elephants eating hay, and tigers, and a lion who seemed restless, and roared. He did it in gaping, apparently, not in anger, and it was not very loud, but it shook the windows against which we leaned. U.S. quoted "The lions do lack and suffer hunger," and Papa said he -- the lion -- had "a noble countenance;" but I thought him a very ugly beast. We had gone up in horsecars and omnibuses, but we walked back all down 5th Avenue, and I don't think I shall ever forget it. This was the first time I had ever been in N.Y. except just to pass through, since I was quite a small child. It was a gray unpleasant evening, and U. S. and U. G. led Agnes between them. There were also Flo, Papa, and I. It was very interesting. There were the beautiful brown stone fronts, and it was frightful the sums they said it cost to buy and live in them; [270] and we passed A. T. Stewart's great marble palace, and the cathedral which is most beautiful, unfinished though it is. Also a great number of churches, [of] in all sorts of queer styles of architecture, many very quaint and nearly all hideous, which must have cost and cost huge sums. Uncle S. wondered how much real piety had to do with the building of them, and Papa called them Synagogues of Satan, and Uncle G. said several things; but [x] Lowell's 'Parable' was running through my head all the evening, especially the two lines "With gates of silver and bars of gold Ye have fenced my sheep from their Father's fold," and I felt decidedly sad and savage. Papa and I admired and criticized the buildings, told which we liked and should like to live in, and which we disliked, and argued and disputed and disagreed with each other, and finally we stopped before one most beautiful large brown stone front, and burst out into unanimous exclamations of rapture. The lights were just beginning to be lighted, and shone faintly through the curtains -- real starry lace -- that hung in the tall clear windows. It was beautiful. Uncle G. quietly remarked, "That's Madam Restelle's." We went on, quenched most effectually, I feeling queerer and queerer. There were flocks of little beggar children with whining voices, who sallied out upon us; and a little boy sat by the railing with a fiddle laid across his knees, crying. Papa made some remarks about his doing it for pretence (not to him of course) and joked[271] about it; but I felt more like crying than laughing. It was such a contrast somehow. The lamps were all lit before we got home, and the basement of one great hotel seemed to be open to the street, the great sheets of glass which fenced it out were so clear. Passing another, with a row of lighted windows, I saw [a] two black figures in relief against two of them, looking out. It struck me very much, [so] I don't know why; but they were doing the same thing, close together, looking out at the same things, and both visible to us, and neither visible to the other, nor knowing what the other was doing. Well, that queer walk came to an end at last, and we had supper with plum- pudding, and Floy and I went to bed in the little room at the head of the hall, and heard the people go reeling home, singing, under our windows; and I thought, "New Year's calls." Jan. 2nd Friday. Read, and explored the house a little, looking out from the garret windows at the houses, and wondering what was going on behind those walls and inside all those back windows. A city is a queer thing! Also took a short walk or saunter with Floy. Jan. 3rd Saturday. Went home with Papa. We had to wait - 45 min I think it was - for a horsecar, and missed our train. We took the next, but there was a very heavy fog, on account of which the train went slowly, and it was late when we got home & Mamma welcomed and fed us. Jan. 4th Sunday. Read, and walked over to Neponset. [272] Jan. 5th Monday. Went to school again. There was talk about the Exhibition, which is to come off on the 28th. Jan. 6th Tuesday. Rainy. Had my composition corrected, and got Clough's 'Bothie' from the Library. Jan. 7th Wednesday. Torrichelli told Willie Emerson, who had misbehaved about his exercise as usual, to "Go & repent;" at which there was a general grin. Was not very well having a bad cold. Was given ginger tea. Jan. 8th Thursday. Was kept at home from school, to my huge disgust. Rode to So. Boston with Mamma. Jan. 9th Friday. Still kept from school, but drove into Boston & went to the Atheneum. Jan. 10th Saturday. Tried to write my composition. Jan. 11th Sunday. Ditto, [-] Jan. 12th Monday. Mr. & Mrs. Campbell, Jr. came and stayed over night. I didn't like either of them. Jan. 13th Tuesday. Papa went to N. Y., [and] and had intentions of consulting Aunt Emily about me. I knew they would overstate my sickness, so I sent along a private letter to Aunt E., giving my views of it. Jan. 14th Wednesday. A snowstorm. Jan. 15th Thursday. Dr. Sewell was brought out to see me. She questioned me, heard me cough, said I had bronchitis, and that the odd appearance on my cheek was a herpes, (English, for a cold-sore) which would disappear presently. She left a prescription.[273] Jan. 16th Friday. Began to eat. Took a new medicine, washing away the taste with cider. Had salmon for supper. Jan. 17th Saturday. Same as usual; medicine, reading and toasting myself over the fire. Jan. 18th Sunday. Took a sleighride, and had theological arguments with Miss Titcomb, the dress-maker, who holds all sorts of queer opinions. She says people have no souls, only bodies; that when we die, we are dead. That at Judgment the bodies of the righteous will be resurrected and made immortal, whereas the wicked will not be resurrected at all. A very queer doctrine, which she supports with much Scripture. Certainly an improvement on universal damnation. Jan. 19th Monday. Read and took medicine. Jan. 20th Tuesday. Read, and disputed theologically with Miss Titcomb. Jan. 21st Wednesday. Miss T. started a new argument against the doctrine that animals have souls; namely that there would not be room in heaven for all the elephants. I told her she didn't know the size of an elephant's soul, forgetting that she doesn't believe in souls. Seems to me the elephant argument is like the anti-Woman's Right's argument that the townhouses would have to be enlarged to hold the women. Jan. 22nd Thursday. Had a short argument with Miss T. on the subject of corsets, and stopped, [274] finding that I couldn't keep my temper. Rode over to Meeting-house Hill with Mamma. Foggy. Jan. 23rd Friday. Took a long ride over by Lower Mills with Mamma. They persist in taking me out. Agnes Reid called to see what had become of me, having not seen me on the train lately, and a letter came from Mamie Molineux, inquiring after me and saying she hoped I should come to exhibition. And it seemed quite pleasant to think that people missed me. Jan. 24th Saturday. Sent an answer to Mamie's letter saying I would try to come into school Monday [the day before exhibition] and find out about it. Rode down to old Mrs. Wood's with Mamma to get some more cider for me. She stayed some time, as he wanted to talk to her about his old wife who died quite lately, and I sat in the carriage, and was cold. Worse, & took a bath. Jan. 25th Sunday. Much better. Jan. 26th Monday. Cried because they would not let me go into school as I had meant to do. It was clear but very cold, and I suppose it wasn't best. Got over it and was amiable. Curled the feather in my hat for [tomorrow] exhibition. Jan. 27th Tuesday. Mr. Ladd sends a letter to Papa with instructions and tickets for tomorrow, and I'm to go.[275] Jan. 28th Wednesday. Mamma took me in to the Exhibition. We drove to Music Hall, and when we got in couldn't find the girls' dressing room. It was nearly time, and I was wild lest we should be late. Rushing to one door I found myself face to face with the boys, marshalled in [a] rows, drawn up waiting for the word of march. I asked them where the girls were, got some confused directions, and finally found their dressing room just [when] as they were going to start. I [f] tore off my things, exchanged excited greetings, got into line, and found myself at last seated in the balcony, at the end of the upper row of girls, with Miss Mansfield by me. The boys were to sit on the platform, and they marched on, slowly and precisely. It was a very fine sight, as Mr. Ladd had told us it would be. Finally they all got seated in rows, after facings and doublings and twistings many and wonderful. Then the performances began. Several small boys [made] gave "Agricultural addresses" and Stanton Day recited "The troubles of a little boy" with great applause. There was reading by a row of boys, and one of them imitated the roar of a naughty young one to perfection. Newton Mackintosh spoke a piece very cleverly; Willie Emerson spoke the Saving of St. Michael's, very well too I believe, and various other boys spoke. There was a funny dialogue [in] in which the settees of boys represented a Lyceum Society discussing the question whether newspapers was a cuss or a blessin', and another dialogue about chicken stealing [276] in which my prime abomination, Alden, acted the Dutchman, Mr. Henzrust. He did it very well too, and was so disguised that I shouldn't have known him. Marion Endicott was in this piece, and did finely; so was that Jones youth, representing the Judge. But when Curtis Guild came forth and made his speech or piece or declamation or whatever they call the thing, I got furious. It was an abominable tirade against England. I squirmed in my seat, I punched Miss Mansfield, I darted withering glances at the platform, and longed for something to throw at him. I uttered suppressed [groans] grunts of wrath. We didn't beat the English so easily that we need to pretend to despise them now, and if we hadn't been English ourselves we couldn't have done it at all. And what can one think of a boy who libels his grandmother? I wondered if the Cushing boy, whom I had picked out early in the afternoon, felt as angry as I did. Then that piece of Longfellow's about Agassiz was read, and we adjourned to the dressing room again. ( Oh! I forgot to say that Mamie Molineux delivered an oration in Greek, took a medal, and distinguished herself, to my glory and satisfaction. The prizes were given last of all. Newton Mackintosh got two, one for drawing and one for composition; Alice Chapin also got one for composition. Wilmarth having been elected to the Cock of the School in short, that fact was proclaimed, and the boys rose and gave him three cheers to my huge disgust.277 They also cheered the takers of medals, seeming to me to cheer loudest for those whom I particularly detested. I had been in terror all the afternoon lest Mamma should appear and seize me, as she had meant to take me home before the end, but she didn't.) More greetings in the dressing room, from Mrs. Molineux, Miss Smith and the girls, and also some of the other teachers. Then we went home. Jan. 29th Thursday. No perceptible ill effects from yesterday. Made gingersnaps, and got a circular from Kitty, containing a Martha's Vineyard summer plot. Jan. 30th Friday. Wrote to Kitty, and sewed on drawers. Jan. 31st Saturday. It snowed. Had on mustard plasters and was given a dose of the vile [vi??] bitters prescribed by Dr. Sewall. Feb. 1st Sunday. Read, and took doses. Feb. 2nd Monday. Sewed on drawers, and wrote on the private attempt which I have in hand at present. Miss Bass, our new girl, came. Feb. 3d Tuesday. Great snowstorm. Discussions with Miss T. and an attempt at singing in the evening. Feb. 4th Wednesday. Miss T. and I make the house ring with our discussions, to Mamma's great amusement. Only as I won't admit the authority of Scripture and she won't admit the authority of anything else, we have no common ground to go upon, to our mutual regret. Fought her. 278 Feb. 5th Thursday. Upset Miss Titcomb into a snow drift, by instigation of the devil. We were out on the piazza, and by a sudden impulse I pitched her over the edge. She went down the bank of course, and lay wallowing and laughing in the snow at the foot. Her legs went up. I fled into the house, and afterwards apologized, but had difficulty in making my peace. Feb. 6th Friday. Disputed with Miss T. concerning the immediate coming of the day of Judgment. Papa read aloud a book about New Zealand. Feb. 7th Saturday. Sewed on drawers. Tried to wear a pair of flannel over ones which Mamma has had made for me, and read My Wife + I. Feb. 8th Sunday. Made cakes. Papa insisted on taking me for a sleighride. Of course I objected, but the sun was bright and the snow deep and I enjoyed it. We took the cross road over beyond the river, and found it so blocked up by huge drifts that the sleigh came near upsetting. However, [if] we got through and rode home. Feb. 9th Monday. Went into Boston with Mamma and bought a lot of neck-ties, and got from the Athenaeum the 2 first vols. of Mademoiselle Mathilde. Feb. 10th Tuesday. Discussed much with Miss T. and sewed a little on drawers. 279 Feb. 11th Wednesday. Made gingersnaps, and went down to see Mrs. Hinckley's puppy. Was perfectly delighted with the charming little woolly beast. They keep it in the cellar and she took me down there to see it. The cat [?] regarded it with fear and distrust, but it would not pay any attention to her and did not seem to see her. It is chubby and unsteady on its legs, and absurd + fascinating. Feb. 12th Thursday. Drove down to the coal yards with Mamma. Feb. 13th Friday. Began to go to school again. Had uncommonly good chances of staring at the Cushing boy, which I improved. Feb. 14th Saturday. Took a long walk over Neponset bridge and home by the drunken house. It is so good to begin to feel strong again. Feb. 15th Sunday. Read Jules Verne's 'From the Earth to the Moon', and found it very amusing indeed. Feb. 16th Monday. Mamma came up in the morning and insisted on my putting on underdrawers. I was furious at the time because I didn't want to do it, but afterwards I felt worse because Mamma had told me I needn't wear them, which she couldn't deny, than at the discomfort of them. Began going to school taking my regular lessons. Walked over to Neponset after school, which I mean to make my daily constitutional. 280 Feb. 17th Tuesday. English History and drill at school, and walked over to Neponset. Feb. 18th Wednesday. Said my piece to Miss Ladd. Going down the hill on my way to Neponset, I saw something black in the field and got over the fence to look at it. It proved to be poor Toby, dead. I suspected both Mike and Mr. Putnam's dog, but on the whole I believe he died in a fit. Feb. 19th Thursday. Called on Fanny Benedict. She was at home on account of Neuralgia. She told me about the tea party or some such thing - a charity or religious one - which she had been at lately, and the look of the house, with the picture of a cross on the wall, gave a sort of Catholic atmosphere to the place which was very pleasant to me. Feb. 20th Friday. Mrs. [?oe] and Annie called. I went up on the roof and saw the sunset. Feb. 21st Saturday. Made gingersnaps, and kept eating all day. Bad for my stomach. Feb. 22nd Sunday. Washington's birthday. Played for Papa, fought him, and washed some of my laces. Feb. 23d Monday. Went to Mamie Molineux's, by invitation. She and her mother sat down and we were talking very cosily. They told me about Alice Chapin, who they say disbelieves in Woman's Rights, the immortality of the soul, and various other things, and 280 holds very odd opinions generally. That accounts for her looking so unhappy. And while I was there, that boy, Arthur Chamberlain, called again! I couldn't escape this time, for Mrs. M. brought him right in, and spread herself between us [as if] with a pretence of protecting us mutually and preventing damage. I was dreadfully flurried, but after the introduction was fairly over, I also wanted to laugh. For while I went on talking to Mamie, I glanced at him in the chair where he had been put, and sat as if in the stocks, with his eyes cast down and his large flat face crossed by his wide mouth, the corners of which were turned up in a sort of helpless smile. O it was comical! I tried to speak to him now and then, and before the end of the visit we mutually recovered somewhat, and held several conversations. It appeared, in answer to my question whether he liked cats, when Mamie's came upon the scene, that he 'admired cats,' and we petted it. I recovered first, but felt dreadfully queer. Also the subject of compositions arose. Finally he said he must go, and mentioned the time. I found it was much later than I supposed, and I had only just about time to catch my train. So I flew down and got on my things, and we left at the same time. And as our ways lay side by side as far as Dover St. of course we had to go together. So we started off, and I 282 know I heard Mamie and her mother laughing as they watched us from the door. I silently made a vow that I would shake Mamie when next we met. We got along pretty well however, and parted at Dover St. very politely. I walked on to the So. Boston depot laughing internally. I gave Papa and Mamma an account of my visit driving up home. Feb. 24th Tuesday. Shook Mamie on the stairs. She was shaking enough with laughter, but protested that it was wholly accidental, and she had nothing to do with it. Walked to Neponset. Feb. 25th Wednesday. A snowstorm. Went and got my Home Guardian. Feb. 26th Thursday. Miss Smith found a new way of testing our memory on the squares of numbers. She called up two scholars together and called various squares to see which could answer the quickest. Several pairs had been called up, and it suddenly occurred to me "What if she should call me up with that Cushing boy" !! And she instantly did that very thing! She said, "Miss Blackwell, and Cushing." I got up reluctantly, and she said "Don't be distressed, Miss Blackwell," which made me feel worse. I didn't answer the first question at all, I was so flurried, but I recovered myself and kept up with him pretty well through the rest. I think she shortened it for my benefit. 283 Feb. 27th Friday. Eyes troubled me. Got john Halifax from the Athenacum, and heroically refrained from reading the same. Feb. 28th Saturday. Wrote out the first rough draft of my composition and then read John Halifax. Found soon after Mamma left for town that she had left the humorous for the paper. Papa had laid it on my conscience to make sure it went in, and Mamma had promised to see to it. I put on my things, went and met the sleigh on its way back from the station, caught the next train, took it in to Mr. Upham, hurried to the office and told Mamma I had done so, and caught the train home. She said it was not necessary it should go in that day. March 1st Sunday. Finished my composition and read John Halifax. March 2nd Monday. School again. Realized for the first time the width of the cushing boy's mouth, as he turned around on the broad grin at something or other. March 3rd Tuesday. Miss Turner asked me how I managed to come to school and do my lessons, yet keep well, and whether I thought it was my loose dressing. So I gave her my views somewhat. Took a walk, but got into what seemed to be a blind st. and had to retrace my way-a thing I hate. March 4th Wednesday. Made gingersnaps and fixed my laces. 284 March 5th Thursday. Went down and called on Mrs. Hinckley, and walked over to Neponset. I knew the Cushing boy was apt to blush upon slight occasion, but today Miss S. said, "Why Cushing what are you doing?" And I looked and saw what seemed to have been a slight squabble. He said, "I was trying to get Guild's paper for him." Miss Smith said Guild would get his paper all in good time, and the lesson proceeded. But I, looking at him, saw his neck turn red clear down to the collar, which flush gradually disappeared. I've read of peoples blushing clear over their necks, but I think this is the first time I ever saw it. March 6th Friday. Went up to Newbury port after school, getting dinner at Marstons. I had hardly got my things off before Miss H. took me up to see her nice little schoolroom, just fixed up, and evidently the pride of her heart for the time being. Mr. Hale came to supper and spent part of the evening. I slept in my old room, Miss A. in the little antechamber. She said next morning that I talked in my sleep, on metaphysical subjects and in very long words, but couldn't remember what I said. March 7th Saturday. At breakfast Miss A. gave me a sketch of her scholars, whom I saw when they came. I sat through the session, and it was delightful. Several of them were very interesting seeming children, and I fell in love with little Sily something who285 reminded me of Anna. She had a "pale face, star-sweet," and I longed to kiss her before she went away, but could not screw my courage up to it. Another was Montie, and the two little "southern ladies," with braclets of twisted gold, sent them by their parents in India. Miss A. is good at teaching. The history lesson was verbal, and the children much interested. They clapped their hands over the victories, especially the taking of Quebec, and were in lamentations when the lesson had to be ended. I came home in the afternoon. I do love Miss Andersons. March 8th Sunday. Made candy. March 9th Monday. Mrs. Hinckley came up with Sanoha March 10th Tuesday. Had a second attack of bronchitis, and coughed tremendously in school, to my shame and confusion of face. March 11th Wednesday. Still coughed dreadfully. Got excused from declamation on account of it, fought Marion Endicott in the lunch room (she is strong and pugnatious but I can beat her) and signed a note, with Miss Rand and Hattie Turner, to accept the boys' invitation to picnic. Read Past and Present. Emma came. March 12th Thursday. The three boys, Hunt, Guild & Emory invited us three girls to a private conference on the picnic. All stray boys were ejected from the room with great parade, and the general 286 arrangements were settled, but not anything of much importance done, except to dispute as to whether we girls should pay our own fares; which we agreed to refer to Miss Smith. March 13th Friday. Was explicitly given leave to come with the 2nd French class next time. Guild & Co appealed to Miss S. about the fares. Mr. Ladd made us an oration at List-call, telling us that news had just come of the death of Charles Summer. I was very much startled, but took home the news to Mamma after school. "Well," said Mamma slowly, "I don't know that Woman's Suffrage owes much to Mr. Summer," or words to that effect. Called on Mrs. Hinckley. March 14th Saturday. Rode into Boston with Mamma. March 15th Sunday. Went with Emma, Lucy Chadbourne and Miss Bass to see Sumner lying in state in the Statehouse. There was a great crowd, and we were pretty well squeezed, though we heard that in the afternoon it was much worse, and ladies and children fainted. The coffin was nearly buried in flowers - a great cross of calla lillies at the head, and an inscription in violets on a white ground (we couldn't read it, but found afterwards that it was "Do not let the Civil Rights Bill fail") at the foot. A dove was suspended over it, and colored guards stood at the doors, and inside the inclosure of ropes. We were only allowed to pass round and go out, and then went to hear Phillips Brooks preach. Had to stand through the service. [*Sumner lying in state*]March 16th 287 Monday. Emma and Miss Persons went to see the Sumner procession and were much squeezed. Looked out the address of the Cushing boy. Mamma took me to Dr. Sewall's office to consult about my cough, but she had gone South for her own health, and her assistant said that it would no doubt be good to take me south, but she did not think it necessary. March 17th Tuesday. Oral examination in Arithmetic. A letter from Mr. Cushing was read. Coughed to that extent in the night that Papa and Mamma came flying upstairs in white drapery, with a dose and mustard plaster to administer to me. March 18th Wednesday. Mamma wanted to keep me from school, but I was allowed to go in on the 9.03 (I think) after Dr. Fifield had seen me, and sounded my lungs and arteries with what seemed great thoroughness. He said I lacked blood, for all my rosy face; that my lungs were all right, the left one very good, the right not quite so good, but nothing the matter with it. Went to French with the 2nd Class at last, and was rather disappointed in it. Felt unwell, and told Mamma and Emma when they came into school that I was willing to go to Washington. [*whooping cough*] March 19th Thursday. Emma went to Washington, and my whooping cough developed itself. March 20th Friday. Can't go to Washington because Mamma thinks it would be wrong to expose the babies on the cars to the cough. Am much disappointed for I had looked upon my going as a settled thing, and had got eager for it. Was taken 288 with Mamma when she went to carry Mrs. Crimmins home. March 21st Saturday. Fried potatoes and rode with Mamma. March 22nd Sunday. Refused to ride; stayed at home and fried potatoes with great [respect] success. March 23d Monday. High wind and cold. Cough violent. Ate my supper with the expectation of seeing it again before morning. Expectation not fulfilled. March 24th Tuesday. High wind, cold and clear again. Fried potatoes, and read 'Reports and Realities.' Papa is non-suited with old Gosse. March 25th Wednesday. Still too cold to go into Boston. Made Welsh rabbit. March 26th Thursday. Rode into town with Mamma. Got my home Guardian, and 2 vols. of Adela Cathcart from the Atheneum. As we were riding home, Mamma told me what Miss Andrews had told Miss Bass about me, when she was coming here - that I was the most conscientious and truthful child she ever knew. That she had also made her expect to find me hard to get acquainted with, in which respect she was mistaken. March 27th Friday. A new calf was announced, and I saw it in the pen. Rode into town with Mamma and got 3d vol. Adela Cathcart, and Daisy Chain. We were too late to look for a puppy. Duke fell down. March 28th Saturday. Fried potatoes, and read Les Miserables. Hunted up the other volumes.289 In the evening I was reading away, and just as my favorite Enjolras had put a pistol to the head of Le Cabuc and given him one minute to say his prayers, Papa made me stop to listen to that stupid biography of Scott. I [wend] went to bed with the white cold face and flying hair of that young executioner before my eyes. March 29th Sunday. Finished Les Miserables and made French rabbit. March 30th Monday. Read, and plagued Miss Bass. March 31st Tuesday. Began to read Les Miserables, taking it regularly + not skipping a word. Papa called me the names recorded on the back of Fantine. April 1st Wednesday. Got Kenelm Chillingly from the Atheneum, and went with Papa and Mamma to look for a dog. We saw a room full of them. There was a majectic but sleepy St. Bernard and a Scotch colley with a beautiful face. The man had not the sort of puppy we wanted, but promised to look one up for us. April 2nd Thursday. Went with Papa to another animal place, where a lean black puppy with a white tip to his tail, was waiting for us by appointment. I had [?] known my heart would warm to the first puppy I saw, and it did. He had a sweet face, and we bought him despite his thin body + ugly tail, for $15. and took him home in the carriage. I took him down + compared him with Sancha. He is much the slimmer. They wanted to fight. His name is Major. [He kept breaking his string to follow me.] 290 April 3d Friday. Fed Major + took him walking twice, 2nd time without a [collar] string. He kept breaking his string to follow me. Made a cream cake. April 4th Saturday. Snowed in A.M. Read Victor Hugo, fed Major, and took him walking. We met Mr. Horne, who asked Major's age, and predicted that he would be a monster. April 5th Sunday. Rode with Papa and Major. April 6th Monday. Rode in Boston and bought dresses. Saw Mamie Molineux. April 7th Tuesday. Read Cosette + write on T.S. Gen. Lee lectured. April 8th Wednesday. Walked with Majie and rode with Miss Bass. Not having much confidence in her driving I drove myself, but made her promise not to tell Mamma. If Mamma finds I drive at all I shall have to keep going down to the station. April 9th Thursday. Worked and read Lord + Master. Raged at the ending thereof. To have one of my favorite made characters turn out to be a woman in disguise, and Guy confess himself a disreputable character, was too enraging. April 10th Friday. Wrote on T.S. + made gingersnaps. April 11th Saturday. Had a headache. Took a cold drive with Miss Bass + Majie. April 12th Sunday. Cold ride with Papa to the lands beyond the river. Pared his toe nails. April 13th Monday. Rode with Miss B. + played with Major, who chased chickens. 291 April 14th Tuesday. Walked to Neponset and back in a great hurry. Miss Bass being unwell, I did the dishes. April 15th Wednesday. [*This should be for the 27th on 15th went to Miss Randell's*] Went to a party at Miss Rand's [ll's] Miss Turner meeting me at the office by appointment. The party was rather stupid. There was talk of forming a club. Many healths were drunk at tea (in water.) Mamie + I agreed that we would not drink to Fair Harvard if proposed. Got very full of water and drank the last toasts from an empty glass. Papa came with the carriage for me, and I sang college songs of a rather rowdy character [all] most of the way home. Letter from Kitty. April 16th Thursday. Rode with Miss Bass. The horse would stumble, + wouldn't go fast. Mamma returned from an ovation, bringing a beautiful great bunch of flowers and part of a great cake called "Lucy Stone cake." April 17th Friday. Arranged the books and fried potatoes. April 18th Saturday. Passed most of the day in going down to the station for Aunt Nettie, who did not come. April 19th Sunday. Went down early in the morning and got Aunt Nettie. April 20th Monday. Went into town to hear Aunt Nettie read a paper before the Ladies' Club. In the midst of it had to slip out to cough. Began to whoop on the stairs. Fear I made an awful noise, for the stewardess rushed out to ask if she could do anything for me. We drove home. 292 April 21st Tuesday. Walked with Major on our street. April 22nd Wednesday. Guided Aunt N. about Boston and showed her the Atheneum. April 23d Thursday. Read, and showed some of my verses to Aunt N., of which I immediately began to repent. April 24th Friday. Went to school again. April 25th Saturday. Rode into Boston, changed books, got a couple of hats and went with Mamma +Aunt Nettie to get an outer sack. We went to three or four places, and I tried on ever so many, but though they were full ladies' size they were no end too narrow in the back, and I have got to have one made to order. I am bloated with pride on account of my broad back - [*see page 303 Major - her dog - killed by train*]293 294 Index to Names Nicknames Floy } Flo - Florence Blackwell d. of Antoinette & Samuel C. Aunt Nettie - Antoinette Brown Blackwell wife of Saml C. Uncle G - Geo. Washington Blackwell Agnes - d of Antoinette & Samuel C. Blackwell. Sewall Dr Lucy - (at N.E. Hospital for Women & Children p. 272 Mr Upham - W. Journal employee 253 Campbell - Margaret W Spofford Ainsworth R & d. Florence295 296297 298 Sat. [May 31st] June 6th Rainy. Got Papa. Sun. Took Lizzie to chapel. [?ate]. Earl Shaftesbury. Mon. Miss S. thought I should come through on ex. Much distress. Saw Kitty off + got Iliad. Tues. First day of ex. All right. Books. Hulled corn. Drove out. Wed. 2nd day ex. 2 small mistakes. Miss T. finished Tale of 2 Cities in excitement. Chattered with Lizzie. Thur. End of ex. All right. Drove out. Got Hard Times. Friday. Drove out thro Harris Ave. 297 298 Sat. Took F. Benedict riding. Flowers to Matron - Letters from R. & Nelly. Sun. Letters to R & " . Long ride around blue hill. the Intermediate Department, and to maintain a general supervision. During the delay made necessary by the difficulty of filling so important a place, Mr. Badger has permission to refer to various lady-friends and patrons now interested in the school. The time of the daily and yearly sessions, the terms and conditions of membership, will be the same as those of the present school. For further information, address HENRY C. BADGER, No. 34 Newbury Street, or call at the house, until July 1st [*rnoons of*]Garrison-142 Slanton-148 Boston faire- 151 Margaret Garme- 173 Louisa Alcott-219 Parker Pillsbury-219 Chas G Arnes-220 Emerson-229 P Banks-230 Neduil Douglass-262 W. Phillips-262 Stephen Trilti- 262,263 Mrs Livermore-262 ABA-268