[Boston—Sunday, 1 December 1867]

Sunday Clarence Cook—reporter for Tribune on Mr Dickens’ first appearance—came to breakfast. I left early as usual to arrange the flowers at church—found the air brisk and clear full of electricity & took a long walk.

In the afternoon walked to Roxbury to see mother and dined with Mr Dickens at 6 o’clk. Mr & Mrs Bigelow, Mr Dolby & ourselves were the only guests.

Mr Dickens spoke of Mr Froude as a “brave man.” He evidently likes both the man and his works. He again reiterated the story of his having burned all the letters of Sydney Smith when his daughter Lady Holland applied for permission to print them and with these letters all his private correspondence. “For I thought if I should meet Sydney Smith in the Shades and he should say what have you done with those letters”—a significant shrug said the rest, though he immediately added “Perhaps he would have said I should have brought them with me where they would crackle well.” After dinner we played two or three games which I will set down lest they should be forgotten. First we chose a number and began to count each member of the company one after the other as fast as possible until we come to the number in question (say 7) or its multiple or a repetition of it when you must say “buzz”. It is really very difficult.

Next we tried, each member taking a name of something or somebody, one after another, repeating all in order. The first who forgets is dead.

Then, Russian Scandal—writing a short story and whispering to your neighbor who whispers to his neighbor & then writes down. The last who writes must read aloud and compare with the first.

He told us yet another wh. we must not forget. Choose a word “nice”; you say “trice” aloud, your neighbor (trying to guess “nice”) thinks “thrice” and replies more than once or twice (or something to that effect to define “thrice”)—this not being word and thrice being easily guessed the next person tries “price” and says, the value of anything—and so on.

We got into a tempest of laughter over Jamie’s hair—I thought we should have fallen over!


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