Journal 43 Page 1 May 29, 1870
         

[inside front cover:]

Notes.

Dr. Whitely's anecdote about the little street gamin boy who held his horses while he made a medical visit & refused the proffered dime which, after his recent European tour it seemed so natural to offer, with the words: ""Why sir I didn't do it for pay!""

-Mrs. S. in York Minster: ""Well I declare-this beats the Dutch! My gracious-how big it is-how awful high it is-how it settles down upon me-why I'm a-going to cry!""-& so she did.

-These utterances are voted by our party to be,-when the character of the person who uttered them is considered-one of the greatest compliments the Minster has received.-

[page 1:]

No. 19 of European Notes.

Paris.

""strikes me forcibly but I remember"" ""what belongs to me"" & choose a shade more quiet, though rich & elegant.

May 29, 1870 to June 8, 1870

Nothing has occurred worthy of record. Toujours la mme chose- shopping expeditions without beginning of hours or end of days. Getting ready to live-& what will be that life beyond the seas-in my dear home once more? Will the future yield what my reveries promise-of opportunity & of fulfillment?

-The pleasantest episodes have been letters from our friends- especially dear Mother's cheerful epistle announcing her safe arrival at Aunt Caroline's-snatches of Italian-to study which is my delight-reading of Kenilworth most heart-breaking of tragedies, that the Northern wizard ever conjured from history. Passages with Sophie whose friends, useful at a crisis of her head-long young life, I think Kate & I have proved.

-Evenings on the balcony talking ""anything so it be French."" Sunday P.M. in the Champs Elyses watching the gay throng en route for the races in the Bois-a place to study & become disgusted over the present ""styles""-more absurd than any to which we poor lay-figures have hitherto submitted.

-Meanwhile Miss Searles & Sophie have departed their tour in Great Britain & we are more quiet-&, best of all, have come home from the Captain's & are now installed in two rooms-our salon commanding the balcony & furnishing me at this moment a quiet & delectable asylum.

-9 years ago today my first star sank below the mystic horizon- mild & brilliant in its beaming to the last. None purer, truer or more beautiful will ever rise for me. In what fair & changeless heavens does it shine today?

OMary-playmate of my childhood-sharer of my every thought, do