We went together this morning to the house of the Curator of
the Gray collection of Engravings, which is solemnly to unfold its
glories to me to-morrow. He is a most serious stately German gentleman,
Mr. Thies by name, fully sensible of the deep vital importance of his
treasures and evidently thinking a visit to them a great affair--to
_me_. Had I known how great, how tremendous and formal, I hardly think I
should have ventured to call. Tom Ward pays me a visit almost every
evening. Poor Tom seems a-cold too. His deafness keeps him from making
acquaintances. Professor Eliot, at the School, is a fine fellow, I
suspect; a man who if he resolves to do a thing won't be prevented. I
find analysis very interesting _so far_! The Library has a
reading-room, where they take all the magazines; so I shan't want for
the Rev. des 2 M. I remain with unalterable sentiments of devotion ever,
my dear H., your Big Brother Bill.
This record of further impressions closely and copiously followed.
Your letter this morning was such a godsend that I hasten to
respond a line or two, though I have no business to--for I have a
fearful lesson to-morrow and am going to Boston to-night to hear
Agassiz lecture (12 lectures on "Methods in Nat. Hist."), so that I
will only tell you that I am very well and my spirits just getting
good. Miss Upham's table is much pleasanter than the other.
Professor F. J. Child is a great joker--he's a little flaxen-headed
boy of about 40. There is a nice old lady boarder, another man of
about 50, of aristocratic bearing, who interests me much, and 3
intelligent students. At the other table was no conversation at
all; the fellows had that American solemnity, called each other
Sir, etc. I cannot tell you, dearest Mother, how your account of
your Sunday dinner and of your feelings thereat brought tears to my
eyes. Give Father my ardent love and cover with kisses the round
fair face of the most kiss-worthy Alice. Then kiss the Aunt till
you get tired, and get all the rest of them to kiss _you_ till you
cry hold enough!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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