We had an interesting visit from Percy Greg, son 392of the English author. Mr. Greg brought as a present to my general the proof-sheets of his father's "Warnings of Cassandra," in which my husband discovered an error; and according to his lifelong belief that all errors in the English language are crimes which must be corrected, he proceeded to enlighten Mr. Greg. "Your father has made a mistake—a slight one—which he can correct in the next edition. He uses the word 'internecine5' where he clearly means 'intestine6.'" Our guest dropped his under jaw7, stared, and reddened. An American correcting an Englishman's English! He had, I know, respect for my husband's courage, but he had not expected rebel guns to be turned on him in this manner.
"This was a length, I trow,
A rebel's daring could not go,"
if I may paraphrase8 Gilbert in the Bab Ballads9!
But we had more eminent10 guests than these,—the divines of the City of Churches, and her learned judges. Foremost and most cordial of all were the old generals of the Grand Army of the Republic: General Hancock, General James Fry, General Slocum, General Grant, General Tracy—a sometime foe11 in field and forum12; and later General Sherman, General Fitz-John Porter, General Butterfield, and General McClellan were added to our list of friends.
Among my husband's earliest clients was General Benjamin F. Butler, who employed him to defend his son-in-law, Hon. Adelbert Ames, when the latter was impeached13 by the state of Mississippi. 393 In the families of these distinguished14 men we soon found friends, and to these were added many others. Brooklyn was noted15 for its refined and cultivated society, and on Brooklyn Heights many of its most prominent citizens lived, men whose names are not yet forgotten: Professor and Mrs. Eaton, our first and dearest friends; Mr. Abbot Low,—whose splendid monument is the library of Columbia University,—his charming wife and daughters and his accomplished16 sons, one of whom was late President of Columbia University and mayor of New York; Dr. Henry van Dyke17, whose name is famous in two continents as scholar, writer, and orator18 of high distinction; John Roebling, the brilliant engineer, architect, and builder of the great Brooklyn Bridge, whose beautiful wife was sister of our friend, General Warren; the Hon. S. B. Chittenden and his wife, a grand dame19 of the old school; the family of our minister to the Court of St. James, Mr. Pierrepont; Mr. and Mrs. Alanson Trask, foremost in all good works; Mr. Henry K. Sheldon, who gave artistic20 musicals; Mrs. John Bullard, the patroness of art and leader in society; Mr. and Mrs. Allen, who gave a lovely daughter to be the wife of Dr. Holbrook Curtis; Mr. and Mrs. George L. Nichols, with a most dear and charming family of sons and daughters; one known to the world to-day—at home and abroad—as Katrina Trask, the brilliant author, poet, and accomplished chatelaine; Mrs. Alice Morse Earle, now one of America's charming writers; Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton; and Grace Denio Litchfield, then a beautiful 394young lady, and now a gifted author. These are but a representative few of the interesting men and women who were kind enough to visit us. A multitude of lovely young girls gathered around my school-girl daughters; and when all the army of men turned out on New Year's Day to observe—as they did religiously—the old-time custom of making calls, the little house on Willow Street showed symptoms of bursting!
All of these were Northern people, and many of them from New England,—the New England we had been taught to regard as the stronghold of our enemies. There was not a Southern-born man or woman among them. We had always considered the New Englander upright, narrow, and thorny21! Transplanted to Brooklyn, we found him upright indeed, but as harmless as a thornless rose.
Many of these delightful22 people in time crossed the East River and pitched their tents in New York—and many have crossed the river that flows close to the feet of all of us; and so I imagine society in what is now known as the Borough23 of Brooklyn has formed new systems revolving24 around new suns. I sometimes read the old names in the society columns of the Brooklyn journals, and the old pictures rise before me, delightful and never to be forgotten.
The time had now come, however, when it was imperative25 for General Pryor to live in New York, the city where he had commenced his work and had always kept his office. The first of May found us in a small house on 33d Street. 395 A letter written by me in the following August gives my opinion of New York as a summer resort.
"My dear Agnes:—
"The colonel declares he means to bring you to New York, and wishes me to give you my own impressions of this place. Well, all I have to say is 'pray that your flight be not in summer!' Anything like the heat and desolation of this town in summer cannot be imagined. Everybody leaves it. I am living in a tiny house in the heart of the city—and a very hard heart it is! On one side of me is the rear of a great hotel, its kitchens and servants' offices overlooking me. Really, I had as soon hear shrieking26 shells as the clatter27 they make with their pots and pans. Behind me is a sash and blind factory yielding dust and noise unspeakable. On the other side a dreadful man has planted a garden, wherein he has spread an awning28, and there he holds his revels—his card and wine parties. Of course I can but listen to him more than half the stifling29 hot nights, but should I remonstrate30, it is not improbable he might inform me that this is a free country, which I doubt. Lucy and Fanny fortunately are far away in Virginia, and so I am spared the added discomfort31 of suffering through their nerves.
"This town is as completely metamorphosed in summer as if it had changed places with some struggling, dusty manufacturing city,—building and digging going on everywhere; ugly dirt-carts, instead of flower-crowned ladies in landaus, passing through the dusty streets. You might, perhaps with reason, suggest that I seem to have leisure,—that this is a fine opportunity to read and improve my mind. Yes, I know, but somehow I have lost all desire to improve my mind! My present inclination32 is to gratify the mind I already have,—go somewhere, see something, hear some really fine music! 396
"Here there is nothing to be seen except unhappy fellow-mortals panting beneath the burden of city existence; street arabs making free with the front doorstep and improvising33 tables for their greasy34 luncheons35; pathetic organ-grinders who lift melancholy36 eyes for recognition and reward, after harrowing the soul with despairing strains—'Miserere,' 'Ah, I have sighed to rest me,' and such; unmuzzled little animals in mortal terror of the dog-catcher; tired, patient horses who know not their own strength, and quietly obey that other creature with so much less power and so much more selfishness. All this is not cheerful to the looker-out, and having seen it once, I look no more. But I have lately made a discovery. My upper-story window presents an interesting and instructive landscape. There is a low-roofed stable between the hotel and the factory. I can look over a great flat tin roof where snowy garments are always drying, and upon which, like 'Little Dorritt's' lover, I can gaze 'until I 'most think they wuz groves37.' Moreover, there is a happy woman who comes up through a trap-door and walks much under the shadow of those groves. How do I know she is happy? Partly by the patter of her busy feet, partly by the bit of song that floats to me 'whiles.' But chiefly because I have actually found out all about her while I have leaned idly out of my window. First, she is very good—this dweller38 beneath the flat roof.
"On Sunday evenings she tunes39 up a little melodeon in her regions below, and sings straight through the Moody40 and Sankey hymn-book. Nor is this all. For a time I could not discover whether she was wife, maid, or mother, and I felt much anxious solicitude41 in her behalf. But lately she has brought up to the roof in the evenings a small rocking-chair of the Mayflower pattern, some crochet42 or tatting; and a great cat with an enormous upright tail has followed her, and rubbed himself comfortably against her knees. 397 "She is a blessed little old maid—that's just what she is! But the cat is not the only 'follower43.' A wholesome-looking Englishman (side-whiskers, fresh complexion44, china aster45 in buttonhole) comes now and then. The little Mayflower chair rocks a bit more nervously46, the cat is overwhelmed with surprise by receiving a slight push from the tidy slipper47, the tatting takes on new energy, and I see—well, now, you surely don't expect me to tell you what I see? Nothing very dreadful nor altogether unusual in the sphere of my happy woman and the British coachman, who has her in his 'heye' and is surely going to have her in his 'ome by and by.
"But when my tired general comes home to me and keenly scans my face to discover whether I am pining for the pines or sighing for the sea, I cannot disgrace myself in his eyes by revealing my low interest in my happy woman. Least of all reveal my own loneliness! I show him the lovely little window-box where I have a climbing nasturtium, a morning-glory, and a curious strong vine that has prehensile48 fingers at the end of every cluster of leaves. I show him the curious ways of these strong climbers—how the nasturtium has no tendrils, but a great fleshy stalk to be supported, and so when it grows too tall to stand alone, it puts forth49 at intervals50 a leaf with a mission; as soon as this leaf feels the touch of the string, it contracts and wraps its brittle51 stalk thrice around it—in and out, as you would wind your ball of silk. And how the great long feelers of the morning-glory behave just like ourselves. They look abroad for something to lean upon, waving restlessly to and fro. Finding nothing, they deliberately52 turn and lean upon themselves!
"My general pities me because the square of blue sky into which I am always looking is so small. But I tell him of all the glories and marvels53 I have seen there, between the high stone dwellings55 that shut it in: how a rainbow 398spanned it once; how my Lady Moon looks down in some of her phases and tells me of her hard life of hopeless bondage—while mine is but for a little time; how the Pleiades have been seen in my small heaven and bound me with sweetest influences; how my friend, the Great Bear, straddles across for a look at me, and a reminder56 that he knows me very well, and knew generations of my fathers long before the twenty-three generations that I know of myself.
"And I have still more to tell him of the lovely time I am having in my room—how I have watched a fairy castle grow against my sky. How I saw at first a derrick spring aloft, and then many tiny spirits of the air build away on a square foundation; how they made port-holes in the top looking every way for the Mafia or any other enemy, and over this threw arches and fairy adornment57 of cunning work in white marble; how they threw up a rocket then and hung out electric lights, and I supposed their work was over and their airy castle finished, but they then mounted a great calcium58 light to let the incoming ships from foreign lands know our eye is upon them; how they built another and still another story to their castle—four in all, and were still building. And I call his attention to a strange bird coming regularly at the same hour in the evening, sailing (with 'a raucous59 voice') across our dwelling54 and into my own little plantation60 in the sky. He is of the species vulgarly called 'Bat'—and so I named him our Fledermaus. At precisely61 the same hour every morning has he come back again, screaming triumphantly62, or putting on a bold front to account to his mate in Central Park how he had spent the night in the Long Island marshes63. The first time the flashlight was kindled64 in my castle in the air and its searching glance fell upon the recreant65 Fledermaus, he wheeled around and made his circuit in another direction, and we shall hear his raucous voice no more! 399 "Which is additional proof of what we know already: 'Conscience makes cowards of us all.' Or perhaps it is only that no self-respecting Fledermaus can be expected to countenance66 flashlights at hours when sensitive folk are coming home in the morning.
"My general listens respectfully while I go through all this. 'Evidently "stone walls do not a prison make,"' is his comment. 'Here are you interested in botany, astronomy, and in building the Madison Square Garden.' 'Garden! Do stone walls a garden make?' 'Here in New York they do,' he tells me; 'a great, hot theatre is to be called a garden and crowned by Diana of the Ephesians! St. Gaudens is making the goddess. But you'll not need gardens or goddesses to make you happy! Ah! What a wonderful woman you are—so content, so cheery in spite of all our privations.' Which shows what poor creatures men are, as far as discernment goes, regarding the ways of women; for my dear, oh, my dear!—a very lonely, homesick, heartsick body is
"Your devoted67
"Sara A. Pryor.
"P.S.—I am a wretch—I know I am—to end my letter with a howl. But an organ-man under my window is grinding away at 'Home, Sweet Home.' He must be driven away or I perish! There he goes again—'The Old Folks at Home'! I must put both my sofa pillows over my ears! Dearly, S. A. P."
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1
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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internecine
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| adj.两败俱伤的 | |
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intestine
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| adj.内部的；国内的；n.肠 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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paraphrase
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| vt.将…释义，改写；n.释义，意义 | |
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ballads
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| 民歌，民谣，特别指叙述故事的歌( ballad的名词复数 )； 讴 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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forum
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| n.论坛，讨论会 | |
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impeached
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| v.控告（某人）犯罪( impeach的过去式和过去分词 )；弹劾；对（某事物）怀疑；提出异议 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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dyke
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| n.堤，水坝，排水沟 | |
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orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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thorny
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| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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improvising
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| 即兴创作（improvise的现在分词形式） | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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luncheons
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| n.午餐，午宴( luncheon的名词复数 ) | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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dweller
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| n.居住者，住客 | |
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tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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crochet
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| n.钩针织物；v.用钩针编制 | |
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follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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aster
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| n.紫菀属植物 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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slipper
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| n.拖鞋 | |
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48
prehensile
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| adj.（足等）适于抓握的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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brittle
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| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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54
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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calcium
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| n.钙(化学符号Ca) | |
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raucous
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| adj.(声音)沙哑的，粗糙的 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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recreant
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| n.懦夫；adj.胆怯的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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