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Lathrop, Rose Hawthorne, 1851-1926

"Memories of Hawthorne"

Hawthorne. London society has put him even
more out of patience than usual with Liverpool dinners, and I know he
is wishing he were at home at this moment. Last evening he was reading
to me the rare and beautiful "Espousals" of Coventry Patmore. Have you
seen "The Angel in the House" yet? It takes a truly married husband
and wife to appreciate its exquisite meaning and perfection; but with
your miraculous power of sympathy and apprehension, I think you will
enjoy it, next to us.
This evening, as I wrote, Prince Rose-red entered, holding aloft a
clay head which he had been modeling. It was a great improvement upon
the first attempts, and resembled Chevalier Daddi, Una's music-teacher
in Lisbon. He put it upon the grate to bake, and then lay down on the
rug, with his head on a footstool, to watch the process. But before
it was finished I sent him to bed. It is after ten now, and the
Chevalier has become thoroughly baked, with a crack across his left
cheek. In all sorts of athletic exercises, in which a young Titan is
required, Julian is eminent. Monsieur Huguenin, the gymnast, said
that in all his years of teaching athletics, he had never met but once
with his equal. Yet he moves in dancing in courtly measures and
motions, and when he runs, he throws himself on the wind like a bird,
and flits like a greyhound. Julian's great head is a delicately
organized one. I am obliged to have all his hats made expressly for
him, and my hatter, Mr. Nodder, says he never saw such a circumference
in his life.


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