[Boston—Thursday, 10 January 1867]
Thursday Jan’y 10th Yesterday J. fell in with a Mr Kellogg a clergyman from Harpswell Maine the author of many noble things, among the rest of the “Speech of Spartacus” which is in Sargent’s School Speaker, a piece of which the boys are very fond but the masters are obliged to forbid their speaking it because it always takes the prize. He wrote it while in college to speak himself. He went to school with Longfellow though he is younger than the poet and the latter calls him a man of genius. He is a preacher of the gospel and for the past ten months has been speaking every Sunday at the Sailor’s Bethel with great effect. He called to see J. and told him some queer anecdotes regarding his sea-life. He dresses like a fisherman, red shirt etc—while at home. He remembers Prof. Stowe and his wife well. He says their arrival at Brunswick was looked for with eagerness by many with some natural curiosity by himself. One day about the time they were expected he was in his boat floating near the pier and preparing to return to Orr’s island where he lives as the tide was going down and if he delayed much longer he would be ashore, but he observed a woman sitting on a cask upon the wharf swinging her heels with two large holes the size of a dollar each in the back of her stockings, a man standing by her side and several children playing about. At once he believed it must be the new professor, so he dallied about in his boat observing them—presently the man cried out, “Hallo there will you give my wife a sail?” I can’t he replied there’s no wind; “Well give her a row then,” “the tide’s too low and I shan’t get home”—Oh said the woman we will pay you you’d better take me out a little way. “No, I can’t” he said—presently he heard somebody say something about being the minister and not a fisherman at all. “Do you think so?” said Mrs Stowe—with that he dropped down into the bottom of his boat and was off before another word.
He told Mr Fields also of the Professor who preceded Prof. Stowe. He was an unmarried man with 3 sisters all of whom were insane at times and frequently one of them was away from home in an asylum. One day the brother was away, the eldest sister being at home in apparently good health when another professor came to visit them to whom she wished to be particularly polite—what will you have for dinner said she today—Oh! the best thing you’ve got, he replied. So when dinner came she had stewed the family bible with cabbage for his repast.
He speaks with the greatest enthousiasm of the beauty of that Maine coast. We must go there.
Thursday—Miss Anne Whitney, Lucy Larcom, Winwoode Reade and Aldrich dined here. We had a merry time. The gentlemen went to the Scientific Club in the evening where Reade spoke on the guerilla [sic].
We love Miss Whitney—she told me with a flash that two days ago she received the first money from her art, that all she wished was an honorable competence from it but she had waited long. We urge her to go to Rome. She will see her work more clearly there, it will be seen also and probably she could sell some. We think it would prove both education & encouragement.
