DEAR PAPA,— ... We have enjoyed Mrs. Bell and Mrs. Pratt[8] exceedingly. What little jewels they are! Mrs. Dorr was to have a party for the governor (Andrew) in the evening. Mamma decided that it would not be very interesting for us girls, so we stayed at home, expecting to entertain Woody, who we supposed would arrive in the evening. What was our surprise when, at about half past eight o’clock, a carriage arrived whose driver bore a message from Mamma to the effect that we were to dress and go into town to Mrs. Dorr’s house. What cogitation and agitation followed can be only pictured by those who have a thorough knowledge of young girls. Mrs. Dorr had told Mamma, I believe, that the party would be pleasant for us, and that she wished to have us come. So there was a confusion and indecision, and brushing, braiding, and curling, in our one little room, quite amusing to behold. How the best white skirts were whisked about! How poor Ann and Mary frisked up and down stairs! How much had to be done before, fully prinked, we squeezed our crape and piña selves into the little rockaway! But it makes even careless _me_ blush to think of the state in which we left our room. What mountains of skirts, sleeves, and gowns, with here and there a stray comb or pomatum-pot, met the eye of the astonished bystander. And yet,—would you believe it?—when we returned next day we found the apartment in order. (Oh dear, Papa! I _never_ shall finish this letter. Mamma is in the room, and she is so witty that I write my words wrong.) Mrs. Pratt and Mrs. Bell looked finely, as the graceful diminutive darlings always do.... In order that they might all get into the carriage poor Mamma slipped up-stairs and slipped off her crinoline. You cannot imagine how droll her figure looked without it. Floss and I slept together and a merry time we had. Of course we were somewhat excited by the party, and the clock struck half past twelve before we slept. Just think of us, your bread-and-butter nine o’clock girls, being so dissipated! Mamma was to have had a party this afternoon, but the weather is so stormy that no one has come. We all dressed ourselves out in our best, but silks would not bring visitors, so they have made a pleasant little circle down stairs, and are chatting gaily. Ever your loving J. Footnote 8: Daughters of Rufus Choate. During the Civil War Portsmouth Grove, some three miles away, became a military camp and hospital. The soldiers often strolled over to Lawton’s Valley, finding it a pleasant place in which to do their laundry work. This somewhat restricted the family’s use of the valley, although the soldiers were never uncivil.