[Boston—Saturday, 23 February 1867]
Saturday morning. The snow storm is at length over, the sky is brilliant this morning. The waning moon is in the west and the whole heavens at dawn were filled with exquisite rose tints.
Yesterday was the memorable 22d Feb. Went as usual to Mrs Otis’ reception where people stood as thick as sardines in a box. I heard her say as I went in “there have been three thousand people here this morning” which Mr Longfellow said, laughing, reminded him of old days in which she would say when he would ask if he should get her some ice at an evening party—“thank you, no, a hundred gentlemen have gone to get me ice.” Her tables and mantles were covered with tall bouquets with billets or cards stuck in with the name of the donor conspicuously given and the whole house was open to guests; “the whole” did seem very small now-a-days compared with the little palaces which are growing up in Boston (Mr Brewers for instance which is really like a palace with such magnificence of carved wood pictures frescoes gilding, as is seldom seen in this country).
Afterward we drove to see our old teacher Miss Whitney who was celebrating her 50th anniversary of school keeping & from thence to Cambridge to see many persons. We met Mr Longfellow on the way & Jamie jumped out walked along with him & went home to pass the twilight in his library. We saw Mr Dana & his daughter, Miss Palfrey, Mr Howells, Mr & Mrs Henry James. The bells were ringing gaily in Cambridge as we left the place and the twilight was creeping over the pure snow of the landscape.
