is wit to the service of the old aristocratic party.
Returned to Boston and took train for Weirs, New Hampshire, where arrived more dead than alive.
She is at Newport now, and there are tender notes of pleasure with the Hall grandchildren, of reading and prayers with them on Sunday, of picnics and sailing parties.
Still, in to Chicago, where Maud kept and comforted her as long as might be, and sent her refreshed on her way; finally to Boston, where she arrived half-starved, and so to Newport.
To Maud July 8, 1888.
Grumble, grumble — tumble, tumble, For something to eat, Fast-y fast-y nasty, nasty, At last, at last-y, Ma's dead beat!
Oh! the is the coating of worldliness which seems to varnish the life out of a man; dead eyes, dead smile, and (worst of all) dead breath.
September 23. To church in Newport.
A suggestive sermon from Mr. Alger on Watching, i.e., upon all the agencies that watch us, children, foes, friends, critics, authorities, spirits, God himself.