Unlike William Hunt, George Fuller had to die before Boston accepted him at his real worth. Everybody knows to-day that Fuller was a true artist, that his pictures have the unique quality called originality. This was not so when Lucy Derby took me to his Tremont Street studio, where I saw for the only time our Deerfield genius. He had a great head with a shock of iron-gray hair, ruddy complexion, and eyes at once shy and kind. He had just finished his masterpiece, “Winifred Dysart”, a lovely picture of a young girl standing in the sort of glorified mist with which he envelops his figures. Soon after, Mr. Montgomery Sears went with Miss Derby to the studio and bought the picture; it hung for many years in his Arlington Street house. There is a naïve charm about Fuller’s “Arethusa” and his portrait of Mrs. Kimball’s daughter that increases with the years. To come unexpectedly upon a picture of his in some western art gallery or private collection brings a warm glow of pleasure, like meeting an old friend. Lucy Derby, who had been of the Santo Domingo party, was a favorite with us all. The Derby house, Number 166 Charles Street, was a pleasant one, where I remember delightful entertainments. Lucy’s father, Mr. Elias Derby, was one of Boston’s foremost lawyers. Two of her brothers, Haskett and Richard Derby, became well known, Haskett as a leading oculist of Boston, and Richard of New York. Both were uncommonly handsome men. Richard, who shared Lucy’s social gift, was very popular on account of his professional skill and his great charm. He looked like his maternal uncle, Mr. George Strong, whom I remember as one of the interesting figures of the New York of that time, a collector of Greek coins and a man who labored for the cause of music. I met the elder Sothern at Lucy’s house, where he was a frequent guest. His chief rôle was Lord Dundreary in Tom Taylor’s “Our American Cousin”, a part Sothern practically created, developing it from the forty-seven lines in the play as originally written. His impersonation of the foolish, indolent British “swell” was one of the cleverest bits of character acting I have ever seen. He told us that one night just as he began the “birds of a feather” story, the actress who supported him gave him an agonized glance and whispered: “You have told that once already!” He always welcomed an opportunity to play David Garrick as a rest from Dundreary. Sothern was a man of great personal charm, beloved by his friends and that dearest of the actors’ friends, the public. An extract from my journal will show in what high favor he was held by young women devoted to the drama. March 1st, 1874. I have to write about one of the most charming people I ever met, Mr. Sothern. I first saw him at a lunch at Lucy Derby’s on February 17th. We arrived at the same time, he opening the door for me. After lunch Miss Ellen Derby asked him if she should introduce him to me.