The reading closed with a
legend, so graphic, so powerful, with such a strain of grace and
witchery through it, that I seemed to be in a trance. Such a vision as
Alice, with so few touches, such a real existence! The sturdy,
handsome, and strong Maule; the inevitable fate, "the innocent
suffering for the guilty," seemingly so dark, yet so clear a law!
15th. Sewed all day, thinking only of Maule's Well. The sunset was a
great, red ball of fire.
In the evening, the manuscript was again read from. How ever more
wonderful! How transparent are all events in life to my husband's
awful power of insight; and how he perpetually brings up out of the
muddied wells the pearl of price!
16th. The sun rose fiery red, like a dog-day sun. Julian is a
prisoner, because his india-rubbers are worn out. I looked forward all
day to listening to my husband's inspirations in the evening; but
behold! he has no more as yet to read. This morning Julian sat down in
a little chair and took his father's foot on his lap. "I want to be
papa's toadstool!" said Julian, making one of his funniest mistakes.
My husband proposed reading "Thalaba." I was glad, though Southey is
no favorite of mine. But I like to be familiar with such things, and
to hear my husband's voice is the best music. Mrs. Sedgwick called to
see us.
18th. In the morning I took the children and went to Luther's. We went
to the barn to find him, and there he was, grinding oats. The children
were much grieved and very indignant because the horse was in a
treadmill, and could not stop if he would.
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