Altho’ I was not there I have volunteered (like many other reporters) to describe yesterday’s gala. It was a complete success; the prettiest fête that has yet been given; and your sisters were delighted with the improvement in the children compared with last year. On Monday evening Minnie and most of the pupils went up to 207[[62]] to make wreaths. They found Mr. Ruskin’s and Mrs. Gillum’s flowers there—both most beautiful in their way. Eliza said the gardener had asked to deposit them himself in the kitchen, and had laid them down so carefully, and as if he were so fond of them—worthy servant of his master! Andy spent the whole day there, and the pupils went up, as they finished work, to help. The result was splendid; numbers of lovely wreaths, and a throne made of a chair shape with three steps. The blind fiddler non est inventus; so they got an organ man, which did quite as well. Your sisters were delighted with Mr. and Mrs. Howard ... their sympathy was so genuine—they left with tears in their eyes. Well, the ceremony began by drawing lots for the queen, and it fell on Nelly Kinaly. The child took out the wreaths from the basket; and Florence called the child whom she thought they would suit, and one of our girls in turn crowned them. Andy says the children looked so pretty—their untidiness only went for picturesqueness. They had cakes, biscuits and oranges; but except one or two boys, the flowers interested them more than the cake. Florence played at trap with the boys and Mr. Smale.
VISIT TO MISS HARRIS
Derwent Bank,
July 22nd, 1868.
Octavia to Miss Mayo.
The time of my leaving here draws sadly near and I have done so little—mostly weeding I think, and that is so interesting, it keeps me out of doors, not standing or walking and yet gives me something to do. It is quiet and nice and I like the smell of the earth and the soothing monotony of the movement and thought. We have not been reading anything of any depth or weight; usually we do here, but somehow this time we have read scraps of things, and what I should call decidedly light reading. “Scenes in Clerical Life,” part of Chaucer, the “Story of Doom” (I am delighted with Laurence), a good deal of Browning, and a little of Thackeray.
Ben Rhydding, Leeds,
August 3rd, 1868.
To Miss Mayo.
I want Dr. Macleod to let me leave, as I am so without definite illness now; and it hardly seems right to stay here merely to gain strength; but they won’t even let me speak on the subject yet; and nothing is so provoking as to leave things half done; so I must let the matter be finally decided by them.