Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1

“Few of us consider the wide and laborious significance of the simplest formulas we employ. ‘I love you!’ opens out a long vista of labor and endeavor; otherwise it means: ‘I love myself and need you ... ’ ”

“Played all last evening for Laura's company to dance. My heart flutters to-day. It is a feeling unknown to me until lately.”

Now, Laura would have gone barefoot in snow to save her mother pain or fatigue; yet she has no recollection of ever questioning the inevitability of “Mamma's” playing for all youthful dancing. Grown-up parties were different; for them there were hired musicians, who made inferior music; but for the frolics of the early 'teens, who should play except “Mamma” ?

On March 10, she writes: “I have now been too long in my study. I must break out into real life, and learn some more of its lessons.”

Two days later a lesson began: “I stay from church to-day to take care of Maud, who is quite unwell. This is a sacrifice, although I am bound and glad to make it. But I shall miss the church all the week.”

The child became so ill that “all pursuits had to be given up in the care of her.” The Journal gives a minute account of this illness, and of the remedies used, among them “long-continued and gentle friction with the hand.” The words bring back the touch of her hand, which was like no other. There were no trained nurses in our nursery, rarely any doctor save “Papa,”