Mamma and I had the most charming and felicitous journey down that is conceivable....
The peace and quiet, however, is sadly broken in upon to-day, and the confusion half-crazes me. Besides our immediate three selves there are the two dear mothers[[11]] and two dear babies; and two nurses and Zalinski and Maud Parks and Girlie [?] Blackler, three men, two women and Pad [Miss Paddock]—nineteen, all told!
The day is delicious indeed. I have taken both babies to ride on horseback, and enjoyed their sweet enjoyment.
Laura and some of them have been to see Parker Lawton and carried to him fruit and flowers.
I sent also a basket this afternoon to your old protégée Miss Taggart.
Dear love to the ascetic Epirote and to all friends and the residuary legatee of all my affections.
Papa.
When he died in January, 1876, beautiful tributes were paid to his memory by all sorts and conditions of men—from the Governor and Legislature down to the feeble-minded children whom he had brought into the human fold. A great memorial meeting was held in his honor, where Laura Bridgman, with her pale, sorrow-stricken face, was “the silent orator of the occasion.”
Her health was seriously affected by my father’s death, as was also that of sister Julia.
[11]. Sister Laura and I.