[Boston—Thursday, 21 November 1872]
Novr 21. Time walks forward with such awful strides only the immortals can overtake him. The days have been very precious of late—they have been mortgaged so far ahead that were it not for a heavy cold wh. has kept me quiet at home even this half hour would seem an impossibility. Jamie spoke last night at the Young Men’s Christian Union on “The Masters of the Situation” a subject doubled in weight since our disaster. Hundreds of young men and young women are now out of employment and the best time of the best people is devoted to bridging over the ugly chasm of need until work-rooms shall be re-opened. At last our mayor is discovered to be the timid poor creature we have long known him, and the citizens rush in their distress to William Gray who has indeed proved himself a master in this emergency. He refuses to hold office but points out the next best man—with such endorsement we hope Mr. Norcross will again fill the place.
Our home never looked so beautiful to me, was never half so refreshing as since this terrible need. May God spare it to us! Alarms of fire are so continually heard in every quarter that a plague of fire seems to have fallen upon our devoted city. We are filled with gratitude too because dear J. is “out of business”. I fear Lee & Shepard, and Osgood & Co. must stop. The fire has destroyed thousands of dollars of their property. If one stops we think the other must—the larger portion of our property is still in the firm but we are so thankful not to have been sharers in the decadence of the name that we can think of little beside. When I look back upon all Jamie was able to achieve while in that firm and see the row of beautiful books he fathered in the American world I feel proud as well as grateful.
Mr. & Mrs MacDonald and Greville went away on Monday. He was better although still feeble and uncertain of himself. That little hole from which the pink blood came one day cannot fail to make them all anxious. We do not any of us believe he can wear through the winter’s work, but he is very persistent and eager, necessity drives him and perhaps he may be all the better for it when Spring comes. Perhaps! It would be almost a miracle. Robert Collyer with his extraordinary physical gifts is the greatest possible contrast. He says it is a kind of consolation to him for being Robert Collyer however, when he sees how George suffers.
The happiness of having these noble inspiring souls about one cannot be measured. It is a continual joy to have “brother Robert” in the house and to hear him singing up and down the rooms. He told me a touching story of his little girl who when her mother went from home on a visit leaving her behind, she was only five years old at the time, said after their return—“Oh! I am tho glad you have tum back, I was tho lonely, I withed to go into your clothet mamma and hug your drethes.”
