In due time the family moved to the house prepared for them at Walnut Hills where the Theological Seminary was situated. This was about two miles from the center of the city as it was then, and the drive to and from the church and the markets passed up hill and down dale through the most lovely succession of undulations, where the velvety richness of the turf and the groupings of the grove and forest made the scene, as Catherine said, nothing short of Arcadian. The “straight, beautiful shafts of the trees as one looked up the cool, green recesses of the woods seemed,” she said, with a flight of eloquence rather unusual for her practical nature, “as though they might form very proper columns for a Dryad temple.” Over this road the Beechers’ little horse “Charley” went many times a day, carrying messages and bringing supplies. There were fine trees about the Seminary also. The ample two-story house had a long ell that ran back into the primeval forest. To this a classic grove of superb foliage gave shade in summer and protection from wind in winter. On these wonderful trees the adventurous little sister Isabelle climbed and swung on the upper branches in the wind. A dangerous feat! We fancy that the care of the Beecher children did not grow less as the number increased, even though the older ones were all the time moving away and becoming dignified ministers of churches. Mrs. Beecher and Aunt Esther, with the family of thirteen, including servants, had their hands full; so did Harriet and Catherine, who were going to town every day to look after their school. Harriet’s memory of the years passed in Walnut Hills was of a time full to the brim of life and animation. There was an electric current passing every moment through the house. Things were being done; thoughts were passing like wildfire; not for an instant could there be stagnation in any part of the work. Everybody was carried along to the fullest use of his powers in such a home as that. CHAPTER XI THE FOUNDERS OF A SCHOOL While the family were getting settled in the new home, Catherine and Harriet were making their plans about their school. In this somewhat formidable endeavor the Beecher daughters were not without rivals. There was already an academy in Cincinnati whose curriculum was said to “embrace an extensive circle of female education,” which included French, needlework and penmanship. I dare say they also taught their scholars how to depict tombstones and weeping willows in chenille and silk embroidery, but history does not inform us on this point. There were also other schools for “female education” to the number of perhaps fifteen. But none of these things were allowed to discourage them, for this was the land of initiative and of experiment. Besides, the new institution was to be far superior to anything yet dreamed of.