July 1, 1847.
My Dearest Old Wevie,
—
I should have written you yesterday but that I was obliged
to entertain the whole Club1 at dinner, prior to Hillard's
departure. I gave them a neat little dinner, soup, salmon, sweetbreads, roast
lamb and pigeon, with green peas, potatoes au maitre d'hotel, spinach
and salad. Then came a delicious pudding and blancmange, then strawberries,
pineapple, and ice-cream, then coffee, etc. We had a pleasant time upon the
whole. That is, they had; for myself it is easy to find companions more
congenial than the Club. Still, I like them very well. I had last week a little
meeting of the mutual correction club, which was far pleasanter to me.
This society is organized as follows: Julia Howe, grand universal philosopher;
Jane Belknap, charitable censor; Mary Ward, moderator; Sarah Hale, optimist. I
had them all to dinner and we were jolly, I do assure you. My children looked
so lovely yesterday, in muslin dresses of bright pink plaid, made very full and
reaching only to the knee, with pink ribbands in their sleeves. . . .
How I do wish for you this summer. My little place is so
green, my flowers so sweet, my strawberries so delicious — the garden produces
six quarts or more a day. The cow gives delicious cream. I even make a sort of
cream cheese which is not by any means to be despised. Do you eat ricotta nowadays?
Chev gave me a little French dessert set yesterday, which made my table look so
pretty. White with very rich blue and gold. Oh, but it was bunkum! Dear old
Wevie, you must give me one summer, and then I will give you a winter — isn't
that fair? Chev promises to take me abroad in five years, if we should sell
Green Peace well. They talk of moving the Institution, in which case I should
have to leave my pretty Green Peace in two years more, but I should be sad to
leave it, for it is very lovely. I don't know any news at all to communicate.
The President2 has just made a visit here; he was coolly but civilly
received. His whole course has been very unpopular in Massachusetts, and nobody
wanted to see the man who had brought this cursed Mexican War upon us. He was
received by the Mayor with a brief but polite address, lodgings were provided
for him, and a dinner given him by the city. But there was no crowd to welcome
him, no shouts, no waving of handkerchiefs. The people quietly looked at him
and said, “This is our chief magistrate, is it? Well, he is tres peu de
chose.” I of
course did not trouble myself to go and see him. . . . I send you an extract
from a daily paper. Can you tell me who is the authoress? It has been much
admired. Uncle John was very much tickled to see somebody in print. Try
it again, Blue Jacket.
_______________
1 The Five of Clubs. See ante.
2 James K. Polk.
SOURCE: Laura E. Richards & Maud Howe Elliott, Julia
Ward Howe, 1819-1910, Large-Paper Edition, Volume 1, p. 127-9
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