[Boston—Sunday, 29 December 1867]
Beautiful Sunday morning. Went to the church & arranged flowers staying for service. The sexton came up for a talk as I stood putting a few last touches to the branches in the font. “How much time have I,” I said, thinking he might be in a hurry to clear away. “Plenty o’time ma’am”—then to my surprise he added “as the man says in the Lady o’Lyons ma’am, man knows no hour but the dinner hour.” I think if that sexton had knocked me down I could not have been more surprised. What should he know of the Lady of Lyons, this old sexton. I don’t think he guessed from my manner however how much I was surprised for I had gone calmly on with my work, but being in a conversational mood he continued to tell me that he was formerly stage carpenter at the old Tremont Theatre & stayed there until the establishment failed. “T’was rather a queer step ma’am warn’t it from the Tremont theatre to the West Parish church. Ah! Ellen Tree was the best of all of ’em; they couldn’t beat her.” He talked very low as the people were beginning to come into church but if I had stayed I could have had a history.
