During the evening a young matron living near here told me some of their friends had proposed to have a series of “sociables,” meeting at their houses alternately, and wished me to join. I am sure it is very kind, although I do not know what sort of entertainments these are to be, but I thanked her and said I would ask aunt’s permission, and to my surprise, as she threw my shawl about my shoulders, she stooped and kissed me, “Good-by for the present!” That is what they use here as the form of farewell.
Thy Loving Daughter.
Eleventh Mo., 24th.
Dear Mother: Oh, what a treat I have had! Nothing that Uncle Joseph could have done would have given me more pleasure than attending the Anti-Slavery Fair, held in Music Hall last week. I think thee cannot estimate aright the effort which it cost him, unless thee calls to mind all that I have told thee concerning the real relation of the business men of Boston to the comparatively small number belonging to the A. S. Society. Of course aunt knew about our attendance, although I doubt whether she had an invitation to join us, and she made merry continually over what she called our “escapade.”
When I went upstairs to get my cloak, she called to me, “Girly, put on all your outré garments; you must look odd, or you will not be in harmony with your surroundings. Only queer people belong.”
The entertainment began at half-past seven with a tea; that is, small tables were scattered about, where one could sit down, and the ladies handed around tea and cakes. My pleasure began at once, for we had scarcely entered the hall, which, by the way, is very large, when we met Uncle Joseph’s old friend, Daniel K. I had seen him before, and he told me how much I was like grandmother. So now, as soon as he saw us, he tucked my hand under his arm and bore me across the room, where, behind one of the tables sat a stout elderly woman, in a very queer cap. I have seen pictures like it, and does thee remember Elizabeth Jones, who did our laundry work one summer? She wore a similar one. It was not thin like thine, but rather heavy in texture, with a wide frill about the face. But the woman beneath it was very attractive. She had such bright eyes and a most winning smile.
She spoke with Friend Daniel, and I did not catch his words, but immediately she came around to us, stroked my hair and invited me to pour tea. Then someone else came and called her by name, and who does thee think it was? Lydia Maria Child. When I realized that I was helping the writer of those beautiful stories, I had to turn and look at her more closely and I could not help saying, “Did thee ever know David and Jonathan?” We laughed together, and she seemed pleased that I had read her works. For an hour or more we waited on the cake and tea, and then Uncle Joseph took me over to the other side where articles were exposed for sale. I bought a few trifles, which uncle insisted upon paying for, but thee knows just about what Philadelphia fairs are, so I will not repeat. One thing however I must speak of. I selected a tiny package of visiting cards tied together with a bit of ribbon, and each one was inscribed with the name of a prominent Abolishionist written by himself. William Loyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips, Charles Remond, Stephen Foster, and so on. I thought I should like to keep them until I am old, and tell my children how I came to have them. I also bought a pocket pincushion with alternate black and white pins.
Presently there was some music, for which I did not care, and then a gentleman announced Wendell Phillips as a speaker. My! but I wish thee had been there! Such enthusiasm! and with good reason. I do not believe I ever saw a finer looking man. He has a little look of a man of the world, but one forgets that as soon as he opens his lips. Then came forth no uncertain sounds, but genuine thunderbolts of truth and eloquence. Oh, it was grand! Uncle says he spoke over half an hour, but it seemed short to me, and as he left the platform I sighed. Uncle Joseph inquired what I would like next, and I answered “Either Sumner or Emerson,” and lo! as if I had touched a magic spring, both of them appeared. The former, thee is aware, is not able to do duty, but his magnificent presence was enough, and he smiled down at the audience with a great friendliness as he said he “wanted to introduce Ralph Waldo Emerson.” Everybody laughed and cheered, and the gentle philosopher spoke only a little time, about human rights and human wrongs. I was much impressed by his manner, which is that of one who soliloquizes rather than of an orator. He is a great contrast in appearance too, to those who preceded him—tall and slender, his head bowing just a little, as if it was heavy with great thought, but there is not much fire about him, and thee would undoubtedly like him the better for it. He is very genial, for I saw him talking and smiling with all who approached. I hear that he has a great reverence for the individual, and looks not for the foibles, but the majesty of the man.
I asked Uncle Joseph if he thought it would be right for me to speak with William Lloyd Garrison, of whom dear grandfather had so much to say, and I soon found that the very name of my good ancestor was a passport everywhere in the room. I was introduced to the Garrison young people, three sons at least; and the mother asked me to come and see her, which I should like to do, but it is scarcely probable. I do not wish to offend aunt’s prejudices, unnecessarily, and my visit there could be of no real use.