[Northampton—Wednesday, 10 July 1867]
Wednesday. I forgot to put down yesterday a strange encounter we had with an old woman in our walk. We had seated ourselves in the shadow of a clump of willows on the outskirt of a lovely upland field of clover where the mowers had been busily at work for several hours and had clipped the grass around us leaving enough still nodding and swaying in the west wind to make the picture perfect; beyond the field and below us lay the beach, the same inexpessible wonder of beauty that we all have seen yet can never express the same scythe-like curve of white sand washed by unsilenceable waves of whiter foam fringing the blue water, fresh as liquid sky. There the beautiful pageant lay under the full rays of noon day, neither too warm nor too cool for the west wind played over it and brought the foam back to the blue ocean in playful freaks of spray. While we were sitting speechless trying to understand something of this beauty, straining our dull sense to grasp the fullness yet finding forever infinitudes which we could not comprehend & feeling that thankfulness and praise should be the only speech that day, we heard a voice behind us and turning saw through some bars an old cottage with a well where one of the mowers had gone to draw fresh water. Hearing the bucket slide an old woman came to the door of the cottage and called the man—“I ain’t well” she said “and I’m all alone. I wish ye’d find a woman to take keer of me. I’m old and I ain’t fit to be out of my bed.” Then perceiving me she cried out “come here whoever ye be, for I think ye be a woman and ye may be jist like me some day”. With that uncanny exhortation I approached, it must be confessed rather unwillingly, for the mower as he slipped away told me the old creature drank and nobody could stay with her, beside she supported herself and brandished by turns a heavy stick which looked as if it could come down quickly enough on the head of an offender. “I wish to show ye my feet” she continued which were certainly somewhat swelled, but the great object of her hailing was to find somebody to talk to and to tell her great age (she was 87) her loneliness and her need of help. This last was evident enough but how to assist her!! I turned away at length after a few words intended to be of good cheer telling her I would try to find some one. How strange the contrast was between this poor wretch and the strength and glory of God’s day!
