I worked a
little while at my painting, and then Mary Channing came gliding in
upon me, like a dream, with more flowers, the Scotch rose and many
rare things among them. Mr. Doughty [the artist, who had consented to
give Sophia lessons] came, as bright as possible. The cool breezes,
the flowers, etc., put him into excellent humor. He said it was luxury
to sit and paint here. He created a glowing bank in broad sunshine.
Mr. Russell called, and came up into my studio. He thought such a
studio and such an occupation must cure the headache. Then I prepared
to make several calls, but on my way was arrested by Mr. George
Hillard, who was altogether too agreeable to leave. He is amazingly
entertaining, to be sure. He remarked what a torment of his life Mr.
Reed, the postmaster in Cambridge, was. He is an old man, about a
hundred and forty years old, who always made him think of the little
end of nothing sharpened off into a point. He had but one joke--to
tell people sometimes when they asked for a letter that they must pay
half a dollar for it; and then, if in their simplicity they gave it,
he would laugh, and say it was a joke. After Mr. Hillard went away,
Sally Gardiner came in with an armful of roses, which she poured upon
me, taken from Judge Jackson's garden. She had just returned from
Milton, and was overflowing with its grandeur and beauty.
Yours affectionately,
SOPHIE.
The somewhat invalided little artist was highly and widely admired;
and to illustrate the happy fact I quote this letter, written by her
spirited sister Mary:--
BOSTON, June 19, 1833.
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