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She was, at the moment, engaged in writing a novel, "Some Fact and Some Fiction," which was to appear serially in the Southern Literary Messenger. I listened "with all my ears" to her talk concerning it with my aunt. It was to be a satire upon the affectations of the day —especially upon certain innovations in dress and custom brought by her cousin "Judy," the accomplished wife of our late Minister to France, Mr. Rives, and transplanted upon the soil of Albemarle County; also the introduction of Italian words to music in place of good old English.
The heroine was exquisitely simple, her muslin gown clasped with modest pearl brooch and a rose-geranium leaf.
This was deemed a clever satire on the unintelligible Italian words of recent songs, and ran through several verses, describing the Frog's courtship of Mistress Mouse, who seems to have been a fair lady with domestic habits who lived in a mill and was occupied with her spinning.
I was full of anticipation on the great day of the dinner-party. The house was spick and span. I filled a bowl with damask roses from the garden, sparing the microphylla, clusters that hung so prettily over the front porch. The dinner was to be at two o'clock.
A few minutes before two a sable horseman galloped up to the door, dismounted, and, scraping his foot backward as he bared a head covered with gray wool, presented a note which my aunt read aloud: That sounds like that idiot, Tom Moore. I helped to pick the berries and gather the eggs from the nests in the privet hedge.
Also for several days I had a steady diet of "Fuller's pies. Still, Cousin Betsey must have been, in her way, a great woman, for it was of her that Thomas Jefferson exclaimed, "God send she were a man, that I might make her Professor in my University.
The Morus multicaulis , upon the leaves of which the silkworm feeds, can be propagated from slips or cuttings. These cutting commanded a fabulous price. To plant them was to lay a sure foundation for a great fortune. My uncle visited Richmond at a time when the mania had reached fever-heat.
Men hurried through the streets, with bundles of twigs under their arms, as if they were flying from an enemy. All over the city auction sales were held, and fortunes were lost or gained—as they are to-day in Wall Street—with the fluctuations of the market. Long galleries, roofed with glass, were hastily erected all over the country, the last year's eggs of the Bombyx mori obtained at great price, and the freshly gathered leaves of the Morus multicaulis laid in readiness for their hatching.
My uncle ridiculed this madness, although as a physician it interested him. It is a fine tonic. They will need no bark and camomile while the fever lasts. With my narrow skirts drawn closely around me, I tiptoed gingerly along the aisles dividing the long tables, and saw the hideous, grayish yellow, three-inch worms—each one armed with a rhinoceros-like horn on his head—devouring leaves for dear life.
They had need for haste. Their time was short. Think of the millions of brave men and fair ladies who were waiting for the strong, shining threads it was their humble destiny to spin! I saw the ease with which their spider-web thread was caught in hot water, and wound in balls as easily as I wound the wools for my aunt's knitting.
Nothing came of it all! In time all the Morus multicaulis was dug up, and good, sensible corn planted in its stead. Does not Morus come from the Greek word for "fool"? Henry Clay was his idol. When the great man passed through Virginia, all Hanover went to Richmond to do him the honor, ourselves among the number.
He was a son of Hanover, the "Mill boy of the Slashes. No living man except Webster equalled him in all that the world holds essential to greatness—none was as dear to the mass of people. And yet neither could be elected to the post of Chief Magistrate of those adoring people! Clay, at the time he visited Richmond, was confident he would win this honor. My uncle resolved I should see "the next President.
My uncle found a vacant doorstep on the line of march, and there we awaited the great man's coming. You may never again see the greatest man in the world.
The crowd thronged us, and my uncle caught me to a vantage-ground on his shoulder. A tumbling sea of hats was all I could see! Presently a space appeared in the procession, and a tall man on the arm of another looked up with a rare smile to the small maiden, lifted his hat, and bowed to her! My uncle never allowed me to forget that one supreme moment in my child-life. To this day I cannot look at the fine bronze statuette of Henry Clay in my husband's library without a sensation born of the pride of that hour.
I am afraid the small maiden dearly loved glory! Page 36 Nobody would ever have guessed the ambitious little heart beating, the next winter, under the cherry merino; nor the conscious lips deep in her poke-bonnet that followed the prayers at church and implored mercy for a miserable sinner! For she had, during that glorious summer, another shining hour to remember. Those penitent lips had been kissed by a great man all the way from England—a man who had kissed the hand of a queen!
She had a dim apprehension of virtue through the laying on of hands in church. What, then, might not come in the way of royal attribute from the laying on of lips! Great thoughts like these so swelled my bosom that I was fain to reveal them to my little Quaker cousin at Shrubbery Hill.
She received them gravely. The Princess Isabella, born, like myself, in , was even then known as the future queen of Spain.
It was an age of young queens. Among the strangers from abroad who found their way to Virginia, none was more honored in Hanover than the Quaker author and philanthropist, Joseph John Gurney. He was the brother of Elizabeth Fry, who gave her life to the amelioration of the prison horrors of England. My uncle entertained Dr. The house was filled with guests to its utmost capacity.
A picture of the long dining-tables rises before me— the gold-and-white best service, the flowers—and Page 37 the sweetest flower of all, my young aunt. She was tall and graceful and very beautiful,—with large gray eyes, dark curls framing her face, delicate features, a lovely smile! She wore a narrow gown of pearl silk, the "surplice" waist belted high, and sleeves distended at the top by means of feather cushions tied in the armholes.
I remember my uncle ordered the dinner to be served quietly and in a leisurely manner. Gurney drew forth his scrapbook and pencils, and began, as he talked, to retouch sketches he had made during his journey.
The parlor was simply furnished. The Virginian of that day seemed to attach small importance to the style of his furniture. His chief pride was in his table, his fine wines, his horses and equipage, and the perfect comfort he could give his guests. There was no bric-a-brac, there were no pictures or brackets on the wall. I have seen the plate in which they were served. She was not responsible for the taste of this inherited home, which she had not tenanted Page 38 very long. The walls of the parlor were papered with a wonderful representation of a Venetian scene —printed at intervals of perhaps four or more feet.
Down this stair came the most adorable creature in the world,—roses on her brocade gown, roses on her broad hat,—and at the foot of the stair a cavalier, also adorable, extended his hand to conduct her to the gondola in waiting. In the distance were more castles, more sea, more gondolas. In this room the distinguished stranger met the company convened in his honor. If he gasped or shuddered at the ornate walls, he gave no sign. The little girl on the ottoman in the chimney corner, permitted to sit up late because of the rare occasion, listened with wide eyes to conversation she could not understand.
Weighty matters were discussed,—for all the world was alive to the question which had to be met later,—the possibility of freeing the slaves under the present constitutional laws. This was a small gathering of the wise men of our neighborhood—come to consult a wise man from the country that had met and solved a similar problem. Perhaps all of these men had, like my uncle, given freedom to inherited slaves. Presently I found myself, as I half dreamed in the corner, caught up by strong arms to the bosom of the great man himself.
Bending over the sleepy head, he whispered a strange story—how that, far away across the seas, there was once a little girl Page 39 "just like you" who loved her play, and loved to sit up and hear grown people talk—how a lady came to her one day and said, "My child you must study and learn to deny yourself much pleasure, for soon you will be the queen of England" —how the little girl neither laughed nor cried, but said, "I will be good"—how time had gone on, and she had kept her promise and was now grown up to be a lovely lady; and sure enough, just a little while ago had been crowned queen—and how everybody was glad, because they knew, as she had been a good child, she would be a good queen.
That was a long time ago. Many things have happened and been forgotten since then; the Venetian lady and her cavalier have sailed away in unknown seas; the good Englishman has long since gone to his rest; the queen has won, God grant, an immortal crown, having lived to be old, never forgetting all along her life her promise; and the little girl has lived to be old, too! She has dreamed many dreams, but none more beautiful than the one she probably dreamed that night,—all roses and castles and gondolas, and a gracious young queen lovelier than all the rest.
Thus passed the first eight years of my life. Compared with those that followed, they were years of absolute serenity and happiness. They were not gay. This was the time when people who "feared God and desired to save their souls" felt bound to forsake the Established Church, many of whose clergy had become objects of disgust rather than of reverence.
Dissenters and Quakers lived all around Page 40 us; my uncle and aunt were Presbyterians, and I heard little but sober talk in my early years. Sometimes we attended the silent meetings of the Quakers, and sometimes old St.
Martin's, to which many of our Episcopal friends belonged. Extreme asceticism, however, was as far from the temper of my aunt and uncle as was the extreme of dissipation. They were strict in the observance of the Sabbath and of all religious duties. Temperance in speech and living, moderation, serenity,—these ruled the life at Cedar Grove. In there was a charming princess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz; intelligent, amiable, and only seventeen years of age.
She had stepped forth from the conventional ranks of the young noblewomen of her day, and written a spirited letter to Frederick the Great, in which she entreated him to stop the ravages of war then desolating the German States.
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The trouble is that the old school is … like, schoolacho. Go shower or something, cause you are smellacho. Sometimes used just for variety, sometimes used to create interjections from verbs. A suffix that can be added, against all rules of grammar and logic, to the end of nouns and verbs to make new nouns and verbs. After pulling off a difficult nosegrind on your skateboard Oooh, grindage.
There's a serious lack of foodage in Tony's house. In the marathon, she expected to be getting her runnage on for at least two hours. For some reason, this particular derivational suffix disappeared from English despite the large number of -age words; it is, nonetheless, very useful for the creation of adjectives of slightly different meaning from the currently accepted ones.
It helps, moreover, with postpositive constructions, such as "he is an idiot villagic" instead of "he is a village idiot. Listen, in that decolletagic piece of frippery, nobody's going to notice your lipstick.
Formerly an actor turned adult writer of juvenalia, he has declared, if I remember right, that his trusty sixth-grade Words for Big Kids! Such a rule, applied to modern English, would be highly productive, since we have so many nouns that end in -ance.
Note, however, that the rule applies only to noun: See "-a-licious," "-tastic," and "xtra-. This is a gross-ass sandwich. That was a stupid-ass movie.
Thou art but a cuboid hexahedrone: Thou hast no power to resist my will! Thou shalt pop neither thy zippers nor thy seems! Stint not thy capaciousness, hexadrone, lest I summon the wonderly massive sumo wrestler down the hall to sit upon thee and crush thy pride and thy reckless defiance, that I may close thee with thy clasps and zippers, and bind thee with bonds of cord and chain, and, willy nilly, return home, make thee to disgorge all thy contents, and give thee into the hands of eBay!
This weekend we should like go 'n like do stuff and like, yeah. Socket for or container or holder of something; by extension, on its own "ingo" , 2.
The proper place for something e. The position to which someone aspires or the goal they want to reach. You don't have any flashlights? Well, this candle's bur--yeow! Gimme a … whatever it's called … you know: I dropped it, it's snuffed. You know, I think I'll just sit here and let my third-degree burns heal in the dark, thanks.
I just made some waffles in my waffleironiser. Ha, I just made a smoothie in my blenderiser. Multi-purpose suffix for everything. Can also be used alone -- usually with a waggle of the dominant hand. A suffix used mostly with adjectives that means the same thing as "kind of" or "kind of like" when added to a word.
In response to a question like "How's it goin'? What did you think of the concert's story-ish format? A no-brainer way of turning nouns into verbs.
Frowned upon by many pedants. The burglar burgled the house. The burglar burglarized the house. Always follows a consonant. You'd better get yo'self to the stiznatch.
You split a word in two, the first half in front of -izz- and the second half behind. Snoop Dogg himself declared izzle-speak to be out. Indicates something is small or cute. Used on proper names often nauseating in this usage as well as other nouns. Usually intimating that there's been an intentional "change" or effect on something, likely caused by you. Can use "sweet," "cool," and many similar words with "-ness. May be used as a crutch for those with limited vocabularies, unlike the pseudodoctrinati -- whose vocabularies are virtually limitless.
Added to a word to produce the name of a place where the root word is found. Then I'm going to the foodorium to get some pretzels for a snack. One who embraces the dark side of something, especially a twisted version of something good; 2.
Someone who, for some reason, attacks that which they hate or fear by characterizing it as horrible, disgusting etc. He's actually fixated on dead cats, decomposing cats, zombie A relationship romantic or platonic between two people; v. To create, observe, or hypothesize a relationship romantic or platonic between two people; 3.
To recognize and support a particular relationship romantic or platonic between two people. Fan-fiction -ships from other popular works are legion: Any way, there it is: Use it in good health. It seems that fan-fiction -ships often fall foul of ultra-conservative canonists, who are, shall we say, unfond of such extracanonical dallyings. The response by the fan-fictors is "Don't use your canon to blow holes in my -Ship!
Meteorologically, islands in and lands bordering the Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico sit in "hurricanistan. See "-a-licious," "-arific," and "Xtra-. When given a root, combines to make an adjective referring to a state of being.
Add to the end of a single syllable word to emphasize it, and describe an extreme state of it. That's gotta be the ultimate shrimp lover's dish.
Those roses are smellular. I got tickets to Rob Zombie. Speaker uses phrase to recover from the embarrassment of being ignored in public, signaling that speaker can begin or resume work or conversation with others. Can also indicate a "taking back" of suggestion, question, or offer.
She walked past and pretended not to hear me, or perhaps truly didn't hear. To remedy that situation I propose to continue with something like frice, fice, sice, swice, eitce, neice, and tice. I'm not sure that they would catch on very quickly or easily.
Stress accent, check mark, grave accent dot below, dot circle below, and dot circle below, for "elect. Try try again and see if he don't succeed. The opposition may have a tough time coming up with a suitable electable candidate. Simple forms of the name "Obama" in a certain numerical phonetic alphabet: This system is simple but probably not easily applied. This word has been extrapolated from "l33t-sp34k," as in software that is 0-day, or yet to be released.
Chris looked up to see what Justin was looking at. The "" is the length of time before you issue a garnishment. If you use this, please list the contributor as "Anonymous Tax Collector," as I still work for the CCRA, though no longer as a tax collector, and this could very well get me in hot water.
If you cannot publish it without my name, please reject it. It might as well be called Google Yellow Pages, just that it's google instead of a website. I need a I'm at the corner store right now, Duke.
I need an ice cold Snowee on the double. Information or anything else that arrives long after the event itself, especially when it arrives too late. From the year AD , when SN --that is, super nova appeared in the sky, was recorded by Chinese, Japanese, and Arabic astronomers, was visible in broad daylight for three weeks and by night for two solid years before fading.
Its remains form the Crab Nebula. Ironically, the actual explosion took place around BC and only got here in , because it was so far away. Off the scale, beyond measure. A sign of recognition or motto and a bit of a credo, I suppose among semioticians.
From semiotics luminary Charles Sanders Santiago Peirce's system of relationships among the elements of signs words, pictures, maps, syllogisms, etc.
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To cause, attract, or impose incredibly bad luck. IF you believe that 13 is bad luck. So I went to get some towels to soak up the puddle, but I tripped and fell against the dryer.
Then I had to use the towels there to soak up the blood from the cut in my head. Once I got the bleeding under control, I grabbed some clean towels and headed back to the living room, but slipped in the blood and broke my tailbone. I called my wife's office, and while I was on hold, I fainted from blood loss. The carpet was ruined. That was some Example taken from the linked website.
A usually facetious cry for medical assistance; 2. Sarcastic and generally unsympathetic agreement that someone has been injured; 3. Code for an injury requiring quick or in-depth medical assistance, used to keep the injured party calm.
This was actually coined by my little brother back in They killed off what's-her-name! Just hold as still as you canHey! Sim, we've got a B over hereSo, who's your pick for the championship game?
Such as a security guard, or other illustrious low-wage position in law enforcement. A car that looks good 20 feet away, and only traveling 20 mph. Typical car for a teenager. Stock motor, cheap paint job, etc. It's Thanksgiving day, and a Sunday besides. Last weekend I got as much sleep as a weekend.
Created for my year-old grandson Alec to make sure the words are in his vocabulary and to make sure he knows how to spell them. Tim 51 Tom act add age ago aid air all and any 61 are arm art ask ate bad bag bar bat bed 71 bee bet big bit bow box boy bus but buy 81 can cap car cat cow cry cup cut day did 91 die dig dog dot dry due dug ear eat egg end eye far fat fed few fig fit fix fly fog for fox fun fur gas get got gun had has hat hay her him his hit hot how ice ill its jar jet job joy key kid law lay led leg let lie log lot low mad man map may men met mix mud new nor not now off oil old one our out own pan pay pen per pet pie pig pot put ran raw red rod Alec row run sad san sat saw say sea see set sex she sir sit six sky son sum sun tax tea ten the thy tie tin tip too top try two use war was way wet who why win won yes yet you Andy Asia Bill Dick Eddy Fred I'll I've Jack Jane Jeff John July June King Laos Mama Mars Mary Mike Miss Mrs.
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One could, I suppose call it "2m," but that would be "toom" which makes then death candiesbad juju. It occurs to me as I sit here typing that we could also spell it out in scientific notation: Overkill, but it would make a cool t-shirt.
I really enjoyed the rice-crispy 2ks, but I heard they stopped making thembummer. My sister used to call 2ks "enemies" when she was little. Someone should make bags of black and red 2ks so we can figuratively devour our enemies. Black and blue 2ks would be good as a gift for somebody who's down after being put through the wringer. All-Black 2ks for the NZ rugby team's fans How about all red, yellow, and blue 2ks for little kids learning the primary colors? Tebbs, who then and there bade us a long farewell.
We never saw him more! A delicious little story was told with keen relish by Juliet, the fifteen-year-old daughter. She had, as she thought, "grown up," while her mother lived in seclusion, and had a boy-lover of her own. Sitting, after hours, one moonlight night on the veranda under her mother's window, the anxious youth was moved to seize the propitious moment and declare himself.
Juliet wished to answer correctly, and dismiss him without wounding him. She assured him "Mamma would never consent. Be sure to bolt the door when you come in! Gilmer had small respect for boy-lovers; and wished to go to sleep. The Gilmer home was full of treasures of books and pictures. We turned over the great pages of Hogarth and the illustrations of Shakespeare, very much to the damage of these valuable books. Choice old Madeira was kept in the cellar, to which we had free access, mixing it with whipped cream or mingling it with ice, sugar and nutmeg whenever we so listed.
A great gilded frame rested against the wall, from which some large painting had been removed. Over this we stretched a netting and inaugurated tableaux vivantes , of which we never wearied. I was always Rowena, to whom Lizzie, as Rebecca the Jewess, gave her jewels. One of the Gilmer boys made an admirable Dr. Primrose, another Moses, whom we dressed for the fair, and the other children were flower girls, nuns, or pilgrims with staff and shell.
When one questions the possibility of this large family living for several years without a head and moving about decorously and systematically, we must not forget the family butler, Mandelbert, and his wife, Mammy Grace. Both were long past middle age. They simply assumed the care of their broken-hearted mistress and her children, ruling the house with patient wisdom and kindness.
Mammy Grace, so well known fifty years ago in Virginia, was peculiar in her speech, retaining the imagery of her race and nothing of its dialect. She was straight and tall and always carefully dressed.
She wore a dark, close-fitting gown, which she called a "habit," a handkerchief of plaid madras crossed upon her bosom, an ample Page 61 checked apron, and a cap with a full mob crown like Martha Washington's.
When she dropped her respectful "curtsey," her salutation, "Your servant, master," was less suggestive of deference than of dignified self-respect. Her one fault was that, like her mistress, she never knew when the children were grown.
This was sometimes embarrassing. As surely as 8 o'clock Saturday night came, one after the other would be called from the parlor, and would obey instantly, for fear she would add more than a hint of the thorough, personally superintended bath which awaited each one. Mandelbert was superb, tall, gray, and very stately.
Mammy Grace lived to an honored old age, but a liberal use of fine old Madeira proved the reverse of the modern lacteal remedy for old age.
In a few years there was no more wine in the cellar—and no more Mandelbert. The grandmother of the Gilmer children was Mrs. Ann Baker, a lovely old lady who wore a Letitia Ramolino turban, with little curls sewn within its brim. She had been a passenger on James Rumsey's boat in at Shepherdstown, when he was the first to succeed by steam alone in propelling a vessel against the current of the Potomac, and "at the rate of four or five miles an hour! I cannot be quite sure,—all witnesses are gone,—but I have a distinct impression I was told that General Washington was a passenger with Mrs.
Baker on James Rumsey's boat. In May of that year I wrote a letter to my aunt, Mrs. I think that I have fully tested the truth of the old saying, viz. I am overjoyed at the idea of seeing my dear little Henry, and Tom in a few weeks. Willie says that Henry is beautiful , and that Tom has become quite a famous beau, improved wonderfully in gallantry, etc. I anticipate a great many long, pleasant walks with him, Page 63 though I am afraid he will not like Charlottesville, as he will find no rabbits' tracks or partridges here.
I hope you will come the first of June and stay a long while with us. I think your visit will improve her wonderfully. We are all as busy as we can be: I am very disconsolate at the thought of losing my most intimate friend Lizzie Gilmer for a few months. She is going to Staunton, and I expect to miss her very much. We have a very quiet time now—as most of my acquaintances were sent off at the late disturbances at the University, and I can study, undisturbed by company.
I scarcely visit any one except Lizzy, and receive more visits from her than any one else, as she comes every day, and frequently two or three times a day. I am going to spend my last evening with her this evening, as she leaves to-morrow. I am very sorry that Willie will not see her, as I know they would like each other. No less a personage than Dr. He has called on me twice , but I, unfortunately, was not at home once when he called.
He is a German one of the nobility , and speaks our language shockingly, and is such an incessant chatterer that he gives me no possible chance of wedging in a syllable. He walked with me from church last Sunday, and jabbered incessantly, much to the amusement of the congregation in general, but particularly of two little boys who walked behind us. When he parted with us, he asked uncle's permission to visit us, which was granted; and he seemed very grateful, and said he 'would have de pleasure den of sharing de doctor's hospitality and hearing some of Miss Page 64 Rice's fine music.
He is not so much older than I am, either, as he is only twenty-one, so I think he might be more respectful in his demeanor. What do you think of it all?
He plays very well on the piano, and has heard the best performers in Europe, so I feel very reluctant to play for him.
The first time he heard me play, he wanted to applaud me as they do at concerts, but he was checked by one of the company, who intimated to him that it was not customary in this country, so he contented himself with clapping his hands several times. Aunt Mary joins me in love and a kiss to all grandfather's household and to Tom, Henry, and Uncle Izard.
I send my best respects to Lethe, Viny, and Aunt Chany, and my love to all the ducks, geese, chickens, turkeys, and Tom's dogs. Fanciful seals and motto wafers were in high favor among romantic young people. They were only the midnight pranks of mischievous boys, such as hyphenating the livery-stable's name "Le Tellier" to read "Letel-Liar," drawing his "hacks" to the doors of the citizens, placing the undertaker's sign over the physician's office, driving Mr.
It remained later for the student in whom I was most interested to excel them all. He drove a flock of sheep one dark night up the rotunda stairs to the platform on the roof, and then shut down the trap-door. A plaintive good-morning-bleating welcomed faculty and students next day. Needless to say, the valiant shepherd was "suspended. No good hotel could be found anywhere in Virginia.
The landlord was ruined by the hospitality of the citizens. As soon pleasant stranger "put up" at a public house, he was claimed as a guest by the first man who could reach him. When large religious or political or literary meetings convened in our town, my uncle would send to the chairman asking for the number of guests Page 66 we could entertain. Until they arrived, we were as much on the qui vive as if we had bought numbers in a lottery.
On this occasion, Lizzie and I were in great grief. She had been away from town for two months, and was now to make me a long visit. We had made plans for a lovely week. Now the house would be filled with clergymen,—no music, no visitors and Lizzie was engaged , no "fun"!
My aunt sympathized with us, and fitted up a small room at the far end of the hall, moved in the piano and guitar, and bade us make ourselves at home. We were seated at church behind a row of the grave and reverend seniors, when Dr. White leaned over our pew and said to one of them, "I'm glad to tell you I can send you to Dr. He will take fine care of you. There's plenty of room," replied the doctor.
Lizzie gave me a despairing glance. Now we are ruined, we thought. A dreadful small boy to be amused and kept out of mischief. That afternoon we were condoling with each other in our little city of refuge, when the opening front door revealed among our guests a slender youth, who, upon being directed to his room, sprang up the stairs two or three steps at a time. There's no hope for us! A strange young man to be entertained in our little parlor!
She must bring down all her prettiest books and pictures and arrange a table in a corner for his amusement. He will not be here much of the time. He has to go to church with his father, you know.
He made himself charming. I had not yet tucked up my long braids, but he treated me beautifully. He was so alert, so witty, so amiable, that he was unanimously voted the freedom of our sanctum. He entered with glee into our schemes for self-defence. Running out to a shrub on the lawn, he returned with a handful of "wax berries," gravely explained, "ammunition," and proceeded to test the range of the missile. Just then one of the enemy, the great Dr. Plumer, entered the hall, and the soft berry neatly reached his dignified nose.
His Reverence gave no sign of intelligence. He had been a boy himself! George Tucker took an immense fancy to our new ally.
He found a great deal to say to me. How glad was I that my aunt had given me a new rose-colored silk bonnet from Mme. The week passed like a dream. When the stage drew up at midnight to take our guest to the railroad, seven miles distant, we were both very triste at parting.
He was sixteen years old, was to graduate next summer at Hampden Sidney College, and come the session afterward to our University. I hoped all Page 68 would go well with him; and after the winding horn of the stage was quite out of hearing, I,—well, I had been taught early to entreat the Father of all to take care of my friends.
There could be no great harm in including him by name, nor yet in adding to my petition the words " for me! I liked to please him, and I surprised him by producing a love story. I think I called it "The Birthnight Ball.
My uncle sent it to the Saturday Evening Post in Philadelphia and it was accepted, the editor proposing, as I was a young writer, to waive the honorarium! I was only too glad to accept the honor. In the autumn my uncle took us on a long journey to Niagara Falls and the Northern Lakes. In New York we stopped at the Astor House on Broadway, and my room looked into the park then opposite, where scarlet flamingoes gathered around a fountain.
We walked in the beautiful Bowling Green Park, then the fashionable promenade, took tea with the Miss Bleeckers on Bleecker Street, and bought a lovely set of turquoises, a jewelled comb, and a white topaz brooch from Tiffany's. Moreover, my seat at table was near that of John Quincy Adams, now an aged man, paralytic, and almost incapable of conveying his food to his lips.
He was charmingly cheerful, Page 69 and courteous to a sweet-faced lady who attended him. I think we took the canal-boat in Schenectady which was to convey us across the state of New York.
My uncle had been beguiled in New York by a flaming pictorial advertisement of palatial packet-boats, drawn by spirited horses galloping at full speed.
When we entered our little craft, we found it so crowded that we were wretchedly uncomfortable. Possibly, in our ignorance, we had not taken the fine packet of the advertisement. Our own boat crawled along at a snail's pace, making three or four miles an hour. Many of the passengers left it every morning, preferring to walk ahead and wait for us until night.
We made the journey in five or six days. The heat, the discomfort, the mosquitoes! Who can imagine the misery of that journey? Fresh from the mountains and gorgeous sunsets of Albemarle, we found little to admire in the scenery.
As to the Falls, which we had come so far to see —they and their entourage made me ill. It was all so weird and strange; the dark forests of evergreen, pine, and spruce; the sullen Indians, squatted around blankets, embroidering with beads and porcupine quills; the hapless little Indian babies strapped to boards and swinging in the trees, and over all, the heavy roar of the waters.
The immensity of their power filled me with terror. I longed to get away from the awful spectacle. The best part of a journey is the home-coming. The dear familiar house,—we never knew how good Page 70 it was,—the welcome of affectionate, cheerful servants; the dogs beside themselves with joy, the perfect peace, leisure, relaxation!
Flowers, fruit, and much accumulated mail awaited us. My keen eye detected a large-enveloped paper from Philadelphia, and my nimble fingers quickly abstracted it, unperceived, from the miscellaneous heap, and consigned it to a bureau drawer in my room, the key of which went into my pocket. In the privacy of my bedtime hour—having bolted the door—I drew it forth. Oh, what inane foolishness! Tearing it into strips, I lighted each one at my candle and saw the whole burned—burned to impalpable smoke and degraded dust and ashes; consigned then and there to utter oblivion!
My uncle often wondered why the story had not appeared. There was a perilous moment when he threatened to write to the publishers, but I persuaded him to be patient and dignified about it, and the matter, after a while, was forgotten.
Never was an uncle so managed by a young girl! I think my great card with him was my interest in his office work. Physicians compounded and prepared their own prescriptions sixty-five years ago. He delighted in me when I donned my ample apron and, armed with scales and spatula, gravely assumed the airs of a physician's assistant. I knew all his professional manoevres to satisfy hypochondriac old gentlemen and nervous old ladies. I learned to make the innocuous pills which "helped" them "so much," and the carminative for the aching little stomachs Page 71 of the babies.
Great have been the strides since then in the noblest of all professions! Just here I venture to illustrate some of the radical changes in the practice of medicine by extracts from a letter written by Dr.
Theodorick Bland to his sister, Fanny Bland Randolph. The letter is copied from the original in the possession of the late Joseph Bryan of Richmond, Virginia. The treatment in differed in no material particular from that of , when Dr. Bland prescribed—regretting the necessity of "absent treatment"—to his sister's husband, John Randolph, as follows: Randolph's case to be a bilious intermittent, something of the inflammatory kind, which, had he been bled pretty plentifully in the beginning, would have intermitted perfectly; but unless his pulse is hard and, as it were, laboring and strong, I would not advise that he should now be bled; but if they are strong and his head-ache violent, and the weight of the stomach great, let him lose about six ounces of blood from the arm, and if he is much relieved from that, and his pulse rises and is full and strong after it, a little more may be taken.
Let his body be kept open by Glysters, made with chicken water, molasses, decoction of marsh-mallows and manna, given once, twice or three times,—nay, even four times a day if occasion requires, and let him have manna and cream of tartar dissolved in Barley Water,—one ounce of manna and a half ounce of Cream of Tartar to every pint.
Of this let him drink plentifully, but prior to this, after bleeding should bleeding be necessary let him take a vomit of Ipecac, four grains every half hour until he has four or five plentiful vomits, drinking plentifully of Camomile Tea to three or Page 72 four pints at intervals to work it off.
Should the pain in the head be violent and the eyes red and heavy, let his temples be cupped or leeches applied to his temples, which operation may be repeated every day, if he find relief from it, for two or three days.
If the manna, Cream of Tartar and Glysters be not effectual, let him take fifteen grains of rhubarb and as many of Vitriolated Tartar, repeating the dose, twice or three times at six or eight hours intervals. Should he have any catching of the nerves, let one of the powders be given every four hours in a spoonful of jalop or pennyroyal water.
Should he be delirious, sleepy, or dozing in a half kind of a sleep, his pulse small and quick, put blisters to his back, arms and legs, and leeches and cupping to his temples. If his skin should be hot, dry and parched after he has taken his vomit or before, let him be put in a tub of warm water with vinegar in it, up to his arm-pits and continue in it as long as he can bear it, first wetting his head therein.
He may, now and then, drink a little claret-whey and have his tongue sponged with sage-tea, honey and vinegar. Dear Fanny, with sincere wishes for his safe and speedy recovery, and love to him and your dear little ones, "Your affectionate brother, "T. His father survived Dr. Bland's treatment only a few years. Still, fidelity to historic truth impels me to state that we have no evidence that the doctor was in league with Henry St.
George Tucker, who almost immediately married the widow! Now everybody, high and low, rich and poor, seeks a home in the cities.
It is not without reason that all classes should flock to the metropolis. There wealth can be enjoyed, poverty aided, talent appreciated; but there individual influence is almost lost.
The temptation to self-assertion, repugnant as it is to refined feeling, is almost irresistible. Men and women must assert themselves or sink into oblivion. Nobody has time to climb the rickety stairs to find the genius in the attic. Nobody looks for the statesman among the serene adherents to the "Simple Life. Nobody would have interrupted him. The absence of all the hurry and fever of life made the little town of Charlottesville an ideal home before the cataclysm of The professors at the University could live, in the moderate age, upon their modest salaries, and have something to spare for entertaining.
The village contingent was refined, amiable, and intelligent. Staunton sent us, every winter, her young ladies, the daughters of Judge Lucas Thompson, all of whom were finally absorbed Page 74 by the descendants of Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, Maryland. From the neighborhood on the Buckmountain Road came the family of William C. Rives, twice our envoy to the Court of Versailles, and many times sent to the Senate of the United States.
The "gallant Gordons, many a one," the Randolphs and Pages, and Mr. Stevenson, late Minister to England, —all these lived near enough to be neighbors and visitors.
Across Moore's Creek, at the foot of Monticello, was the house of Mr. There lived my sweet friend and bridesmaid, Eliza Rives, and there I could call for a glass of lemonade when on my way to Monticello, guiding, as I often did, some stranger-guest to visit the home of Thomas Jefferson.
We would pass through the straggling bushes of Scottish broom which bordered the road— planted originally by Mr. Jefferson himself—pause at the modest monument over his ashes, and reverently ponder the inscription thereon. I loved the spot, the glorious mountains, the glimpse at our feet of the Greek temple Page 75 in its sacred grove, the atmosphere of mystery and romance.
Once I saw a solitary fleur-de-lis unfurling its imperial banner on the site of the abandoned garden. Once I was permitted, in the absence of the owner, to explore an upper floor in the villa, and was startled by a white, strained face gleaming out from a dim alcove. This was the bust of Voltaire. A happy, happy young girl was I on these rides, mounted on my own horse, Phil Duval, and not unconscious of my becoming green cloth habit, green velvet turban, and long green feather, fastened with a diamond buckle—as I believed it to be!
Young girls reared in a university town and admitted to the friendship of the professors' families must be dull indeed if they absorb nothing from the literary atmosphere.
My dear aunt was an accomplished English scholar. Her father had been the friend and neighbor of Patrick Henry, her husband had been one of John Randolph's physicians. My close friends, the Gilmers, Southalls, and the daughters of Professor Harrison, all had brothers who were students, and we strove to keep pace with these fine young fellows and meet them on English ground at least.
We had no circulating library in Charlottesville, and depended upon the mails for our current literature. Dickens's novels reached us from London, issued then in monthly sections, and we impatiently awaited them. We found the remarks of Captain Clutterbuck and the Rev. Dryasdust hard to bear, barring the door to the enchanted palace until they had their say. To be sure, Dickens could be tiresome too, pausing in the middle of an exciting story while somebody—the "stroller" or the "bagman"—related something wholly irrelevant.
To my mind, a story within a story was a nuisance. It was like a patch on a garment. The garment might be homespun and the patch satin, but it was a blemish, nevertheless, something put on to help a weak place.
I skipped these stories then and skip them now! As to Thackeray, I blush to say we did not appreciate him when he appeared as "Michael Angelo Titmarsh. She was only a sublimated little Miss Betsy Stevens, a ragged mountain woman who sold peaches on a small commission, and who, like Becky, having "no mamma" or other asset, lived by her wits.
Perhaps in our estimation of Thackeray we were guided somewhat by his own countrymen. No man could survive it. None of the visiting authors deigned to call on Page 77 us,—Thackeray, Dickens, Miss Martineau,—all passed us by. True, Frederika Bremer condescended to spend a night with her compatriot, Mr. Her novels were extremely popular with us. Every one was on tiptoe of pleased anticipation. While the waiting company eagerly expected her, the door opened—not for Miss Bremer, but her companion, who announced: She ver tired and must sleep!
If she come, she gape in your noses! The beautiful Christian custom of lighting a Christmas tree—bringing "the glory of Lebanon, the fir tree, the pine tree, and the box," to hallow our festival —had not yet obtained in Virginia.
We had heard much of the German Christmas tree, but had never seen one. Lizzie Gilmer, who was to marry a younger son of the house, was intimate with the Tuckers, and brought great reports of the preparation of the first Christmas tree ever seen in Virginia. I had not yet been allowed to attend the parties of "grown-up" people, but our young friend John Randolph Tucker was coming of age on Christmas Eve, and great pressure was brought to bear upon Page 78 my aunt to permit me to attend the birthday celebration.
This was a memorable occasion. My aunt could not persist in her rules for me, and I was permitted, provided I went as "a little girl in a high-necked dress," to accompany Lizzie. My much-discussed gown was of blue silk, opening over white, and laced from throat to hem with narrow black velvet!
Never, never was girl as happy! The tree loaded with tiny baskets of bonbons, each enriched with an original rhyming jest or sentiment, was magnificent, the supper delicious, the speeches and poems from the two old judges Tucker were apt and witty. I went as a little girl—a close bud—but no "high-necked" gown ever prisoned a happier heart. It seems to me, as I look back, that my University friends, Mr. They sent me no end of books.
Rives loved my music, to which he could listen by the Page 79 hour. I kept the friendship of these brilliant men as long as they lived. Only two lived to be old. The Tuckers were a family of literary distinction— One of the happiest and wittiest of them was my dear Lizzie's husband, St. Anything, everything, would provoke a pun, a parody, or a graceful rhyme.
When it was proposed to change the name of "Competition"—a court-house village in the county of Pittsylvania—to "Chatham," he produced a pencil and paper, and in a moment gave: James, whom he once surprised eating a very "ripe" cheese.
We had a delightful addition to our society in Powhatan Starke, who came from the Eastern Shore, and spent a year first as a guest of the Southalls, and later of all of us. He seemed to have been created for the express purpose of making people happy. He would have us all convulsed with laughter while he held the woollen skeins for my aunt's knitting. He taught me on the piano waltzes not to be found in the books; and the polka, a new dance with picturesque figures just then introduced.
He joined in and enhanced every scheme for pleasure, and would finally spend half the night serenading us. Page 80 "The serenade," according to a recent definition, "is a cherished courtship custom of primitive societies. It was only a delicate compliment to ladies who had entertained the serenaders. Queen of my soul! Crouched close to the door, we would listen for Vive l'amour , the song always concluding the serenade:
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