"I forbid you to write them!" But I believe
this command only added a new attraction to authorship, agreeably
haunting me as I beckoned imaginary scenes and souls out of chaos. An
oasis bloomed at remote seasons, when we went to visit Mr. and Mrs.
Fields in Boston. My mother writes of my reviving, and even becoming
radiant, as soon as a visit of this fragrant nature breathed upon me.
I joyously begin a letter of my mother's with the following greeting:
"As soon as we got to Boston. My dear, dear Papa. We will write to
you very promptly indeed. We have got here safely, and are also very
glad to get here. We had some rich cake and sherry as soon as we got
here.--[My mother proceeds:] Annie glided in upon us, looking
excellently lovely. Heart's-Ease [Mr. Fields] appeared just before
dinner. He declares that the 'Consular Experiences' is superb.--I
write in the deep green shade of this wood of a library. We all went
to church through the hot sunshine. Mr. Fields walked on the sunny
side, and when Mrs. Fields [Mrs. Meadows was the playful name by
which we called her] asked him why, he said, 'Because it makes us grow
so. Oh, I am growing so fast I can scarcely get along!' Mr. Fields
said it made him very sleepy to go to church, and he thought it was
because of the deacons.--He says the world is wild with rapture over
your 'Leamington Spa.' He did not know how to express his appreciation
of it.--We met Mr. Tom Appleton at the gallery, and he was very
edifying.
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