[Boston—Monday, 22 October 1866]
Monday Oct 22d New girl in Ann’s place although the latter does not go away for a fortnight. She is green enough but seems ready and is I hope “good stuff” to work upon. Anyway I shall exercise all my power and ingenuity to mould her into shape.
Yesterday afternoon drove out to Blue Hill, tied our horse and climbed to the top, Lissie, Jamie & I. The atmosphere was warm and hazy, the golden leaves of the little birch were dancing in every breeze, their silver stems twinkling to keep them company. The oak leaves rustled under our feet as we ascended. All the pathos of autumn was abroad. We lost our way in the ascent and took a brambly scramble from which skirts and veils returned somewhat less perfect than they went in. We sat long on the hilltop while Lissie made a special sketch and we watched sometimes the mackerel fishes on the far horizon, sometimes the windings of shining Neponset river, or the travellers who were ascending or descending the hill. Two young men on horseback made their appearance suddenly from below, one on a white horse, one on a black. They stood up on the highest point of the rocks making beautiful pictures with the graceful spirited bearing of horses and riders.
Coming in we found our horse had lost his shoe and we must come 12 miles without it. There was a round full moon so we did not mind walking him nearly all the way, only we were obliged to go to Louisa’s to tea in travel-worn costume or else be late, of course we preferred the former.
Jamie had a queer autograph experience the other day. A man called and left an elaborate book, French, richly bound, with many good autographs in it, and desired Mr Fields’s. He wrote and awaited the man. Day before yesterday he made his appearance, said his thanks, and then continued the conversation by saying that anytime Mr F. wished his hair cut he was the man, and would come to his house at any hour to perform the same.
Mother and Sarah left us Friday. Yesterday we had two new poems from Mr Emerson, making him as J. says, the thinking poet of our time.
