[Boston—Sunday, 6 January 1867]
Sunday a driving snow-storm. Last night Jamie went to the Club: met W. Everett who said that while his father was member of Congress and was at one time returning from Washington to Boston he was stopped in the streets as he passed through Philadelphia by a haggard man wrapped in a cloak. “I am Aaron Burr said the figure and I pray you to ask Congress for an appropriation to aid me in my misery.” Mr E. replied that the member from his own district was the person to whom to apply. “I know that was the sad rejoinder but the others are all strangers to me and I pray you to help me”. After some reflection Mr Everett promised to try to do something in his behalf, fortunately however he was released by death before Congress was again in session.
Mr Quincy was at the Club much interested in obtaining more freedom for merchandise for the city over the western railroad. The effort looks single-hearted. I hope it may be.
An old school friend of J’s, Tom. Allen, who is married to a good simple little woman and who lives in all modesty in the country, entertained George Peabody at dinner on Christmas Day. It seems he asked the father of Mrs Allen who was clerk with him years and years ago to let him come and dine with him that day, Mr Williams replied I always dine with my daughter that day Sir but doubtless she would be glad to see you too—so it fell out that the great merchant went to dine with the quiet folks and ate chicken-pie which he had not tasted for 20 years and had a grand old-fashioned New England time. He told them of going in a cab one day to his own model-houses in England and the pleasure he had in seeing them so well cared for and meeting a child who had been christened George Peabody just as he was going away. He could not resist giving the infant a sovereingn [sic] and discovering himself at which the woman who held the child’s hand gave the alarm and he could hardly reach his cab for the thronging people.
Bayard Taylor has sent us a picture in oils by himself of the temple of Apollo Epicurius, in Greece also one of the Ruins of Mantinea for the Aldrich’s in the same box so we had a grand opening last evening. Seeing these recalled to my mind what he told us of his little girl Lilian about 7 years old. She has a fondness for Greek history and was found the other day charging vigorously into the wood-pile; when her mother asked what she was doing she said she was an Athenian pursuing the Lacedaemonians. So much for being born in Greece! Mr Felton’s lectures in Greece are just in type now for the first time. J. is delighted with them and has already finished the first volume (it came only last night from the printer).
Called on old Mr William Minot one day the past week. He is nearly 90 but full of reading and better, full of tender sympathies. He had been reading the “Egistography” of Chester Harding whom he knew well. So had I—’tis a good honest history of a true man. Mr Minot went to the outer door with me on my departure, pressed my hand tenderly and asked if he might come soon to see me.
