The roads are so pretty, fine houses on every hand. It only seems to me that there is an air of extravagance, which I deprecate, for there seem to be no small and unpretentious homes, until the city is reached, and there everything is so dreary! I am sure I should get lost very easily, for Boston’s streets are as crooked as Philadelphia’s are straight. I said to aunt that I should hardly dare for some time to come to town alone, and she answered:
“Never, I trust. It is highly improper for a pretty young girl to go out without an attendant.”
I am sure thee never thought thus. Perhaps she was but trying to play upon my vanity.
I think the neighborhood must be a pleasant one just about Uncle Joseph, for yesterday a number of persons called, and spoke kindly to me. Toward four o’clock one of the young women asked aunt’s permission for me to accompany her in a walk by the river. Soon after we left the house we came upon a group of young men, and my companion explained to them that she had succeeded in getting me away from my guardian, and then she gave me the names of the party, and I was surprised to know that two of them belonged to the old and respected families of A. and H. It seemed strange to mingle with the descendants of revolutionary times, and perhaps I expressed a little of the awe I felt, when I acknowledged their presence.
Thee has often told me that the Lord is no respecter of persons, and warned me against doing honor to anything mortal. Perhaps I have received a severe lesson, for I soon found that this was a premeditated excursion on the water, and there was a deal of laughter over the ease with which Anna W. had outwitted my aunt. Thee can imagine my discomfiture, both at finding myself in a false position and also at the discovery of their willingness to engage in deceit. Oh, mother, how have the mighty fallen! When I became conscious of the whole situation I said, just as I would have said to thee:
“If there is any doubt about my aunt’s willingness to have me go with you, I must go back at once.” And can thee believe it? they laughed, and off the boat started.
Of course there was nothing to do but make the best of it. I tried to talk to young A. about his famous great-grandfather—but he seemed not to know much about him, and when I spoke of his nobility of character, the young man looked bewildered, and said if there had ever been anything of that kind in the family, it had died out.
I began to think so, too, as the afternoon went on—for he puzzled me greatly. All of these young men are being educated at Harvard College, yet they did not appear to regard their opportunities as unusual, and their references to the professors were not respectful. Edward H. inquired whether I read French and on my saying yes, he at once asked me if I had a good pony—and I told him I did not ride on horseback at all, which seemed to amuse them greatly, and Anna afterward explained that a pony was a translation—a key of the whole lesson which the teachers do not expect them to use, but which nearly the entire class possess.
We talked about the matter a little, and I said I should not think one could learn anything thus, and Edward H. replied “That is not what we go to Harvard for!”
How strange it sounded! And yet it was not so distressing to me as the discovery that these young men have absolutely no interest in anti-slavery movements. They talked about Garrison and Phillips as fanatics, and said “This meddling with other people’s concerns is a very dangerous business.”