"I still rejoice that this letter will find you in good old
Connecticut--thrice blessed--'oh, had I the wings of a dove' I would
be there too. Give my love to Mary H. I remember well how gently she
used to speak to and smile on that forlorn old daddy that boarded at
your house one summer. It was associating with her that first put into
my head the idea of saying something to people who were not agreeable,
and of saying something when I had nothing to say, as is generally the
case on such occasions."
Again she writes to the same friend: "Your letter, my dear G., I have
just received, and read through three times. Now for my meditations
upon it. What a woman of the world you are grown. How good it would be
for me to be put into a place which so breaks up and precludes
thought. Thought, intense emotional thought, has been my disease. How
much good it might do me to be where I could not but be thoughtless. . . .
"Now, Georgiana, let me copy for your delectation a list of matters
that I have jotted down for consideration at a teachers' meeting to be
held to-morrow night. It runneth as follows. Just hear! 'About quills
and paper on the floor; forming classes; drinking in the entry (cold
water, mind you); giving leave to speak; recess-bell, etc., etc.' 'You
are tired, I see,' says Gilpin, 'so am I,' and I spare you.
"I have just been hearing a class of little girls recite, and telling
them a fairy story which I had to spin out as it went along, beginning
with 'once upon a time there was,' etc.
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