Page:The Homes of the New World- Vol. I.djvu/114

 Next Sunday Channing will deliver a lecture in New York, and I, as well as my friends, shall go to hear him. I am well off here in Brooklyn, in this home, with this married pair and their beautiful children! Here too it is quiet and beautiful. I can wander about alone and in silence, take long walks by myself in the neighbourhood. I observe among the trees here, splendid weeping-willows, actually colossal trees. They are still quite green. The grapes ripen in the open air; Marcus has only to put his hand outside the garden-porch, around which the vine-branches form a leafy bower, to gather whole handfulls of beautiful bunches, with which he comes in and regales us. And I often walk in a long pleached alley covered with vines, where I gather and eat. The grapes are of a pale lilac colour, small, very sweet and agreeable, but have always a little lump inside which is rather sour and unripe. This may be peculiar to grapes in this country. The verandah which ornaments the front of the house is now splendid with the most beautiful chrysanthemums. In summer they tell me numbers of humming birds hover around the roses.

Thursday, November 15th.—Again an interruption of several days. My dear child! life is to me like a rushing river, and I must be borne on with it, taking only care that I don't lose life. The more detailed account of the career and its adventures I must leave till we meet.

Last Sunday morning I went to church with my friends—to a beautiful church with painted windows, which give a somewhat gloomy appearance to the church; people here are so afraid of sunshine. The building was fine, but the sermon, by a Unitarian preacher, was of the most meagre description. In the afternoon, we drove to New York, to hear Channing. There is always such a crowd and such a bustle on the New York side