[Campton—Tuesday, 19 June 1866]
Tuesday June 19. A brilliant sun at half past 5 chased back by heavy clouds from the west—alone. Sat by the window reading etc. until breakfast and after went out with Lucy Larcom to Mad River and sat in the sun on the rocks watching the river as it leaped down its rocky bed vigorous with renewed strength of rain. At ten o clock we drove to see Mrs Adams with a fresh north wind blowing, flecking the sky with white tufted clouds. One of the “new girls” whom Mr Willey had just brought from Rumney to help his wife this summer, drove us over. She was a quiet capable Yankee girl who when we asked if she could drive said “Well, I guess I can take you down there, I don’t know as I can drive much” but she did take us down and showed herself entirely able to drive although her veil blew off as a first adventure and her hat as a second but she took these little things as quite a matter of course leaping off to catch her veil and put it in her pocket with as much celerity and silence as a bird will pounce upon and devour an insect. When we reached Mrs Adams’ Lucy jumped off and rapped—no answer—at the other door—still no answer. I think there is nobody at home said Lucy. While she walked around the dove-cote,—for the cottage reminded me of one, so small and hedged about with garden sweets, with a sunny slope below leading to the Pemigewasset I talked with the “new girl.” Mr Willey had left at 5 o’clock this morning for her and we had given her hardly time to take her hat off before she had started for this new trip. I said “so you have come to help Mrs Willey.” “Yes.” “She is a very good housekeeper.” “I suppose so I don’t know much about it but my sister is there, and I thought I’d come over and try.” She was evidently going to succeed very well in “trying” if she did other things as well as she drove. It was so I believe for a few days after, Mrs Willey told me they were doing very well except they were “shy” about “tendin’ on table but said they should not mind it when there was a number and they should be kept busy.”
I sat on the grass while Lucy still looked about for her friend. Presently she bethought her of the small cottage where the old people dwelt close by, so she rapped there, immediately Mrs Adams opened the door and told her that a few months ago her old mother died leaving her father alone in his house, the whole care of which now devolved upon her added to the sole care of her own. She had been especially busied of late but would come out at once to see us. Soon after Lucy returned to me, Mrs Adams joined us with a clean calico dress and collar looking fresh and lovely, except alas! her teeth, which is common with all our back country women she is losing at an age it appears not above 40.
Nothing could exceed the independent luxury of such a home as this, the only penalty being that of Adam when he left Paradise, hard work. Mrs Adams was a Miss Blair an intelligent woman herself with sweet blue eyes, forget-me-nots, and a mouth steadfast and smiling as the sun. Everything around was the work of her hands, every comfort was a suggestion of her mind. Her husband, who Lucy says is thoroughly intelligent and interesting man with her son a boy of 15 were at work in the fields. Her sister was a teacher with Lucy at Norton Seminary and one of the finest scholars and intellects L. says in the country, in her position; one summer they visited Mrs Adams together and that was the way L. came to bring me here. It was an idyllic picture for me only I never can get over the somewhat low regret perhaps of seeing a woman work so hard; but I forget the homely recompense; beside compare such labor with the Shakers labor, without excitement for the end, without a loving recompense, simply for duties’ sake. Give me two farm-houses rather!
In the afternoon we went to Kimbell Whitney’s. The girl looked in somewhat better health but I found it was the flush of excitement produced by company. She was very grateful for the little we could do and the mother came running after us as we descended the hill to give us a large bundle of maple sugar.
At eight o’clock Jamie returned. He had scarcely eaten or slept since he left because of a great fire in the building adjoining Ticknor and Fields in Childs & Jenks picture rooms.
