. . . Alas that you should be insulted with
dried-apple pie and molasses preserves! Oh, horror! I thought that you
would have fresh fruit and vegetables. Pray go to a civilized house
and have decent fare.--I know it will do you immense good to make this
journey. You should oftener make such visits, and then you would "like
things" better. Your spirits get below concert pitch by staying in one
place so long at a time. I am glad Leutze keeps you on [to paint
Hawthorne's portrait]. Do not come home till the middle of September.
Just remember how hot and dead it is here in hot weather, and how you
cannot bear it.--I do not think I have a purer pleasure and completer
satisfaction, nowadays, than I am conscious of when I get you fairly
away from Concord influences. I then sit down and feel rested through
my whole constitution. All care seems at an end. I would not have had
you here yesterday for all England. It was red-hot from morn to dewy
eve. We burned without motion or sound. But you were in Boston, and
not under this hill. If you wish me to be happy, you must consent to
spend the dog-days at the sea.--After a cool morning followed a
red-hot day. It seemed to me more intolerable than any before. You
could not have borne such dead weather. The house was a refrigerator
in comparison to the outdoor atmosphere.--We have had some intolerably
muggy days. That is, they would have been so, if you had not been at
the sea.--You have been far too long in one place without change, and
I am sure you will get benefit under such pleasant conditions as being
the guest of Mr.
Pages:
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417