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Browsing named entities in Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1. You can also browse the collection for 1882 AD or search for 1882 AD in all documents.
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Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1, Chapter 3 Newport 1879 1882 60 -63 (search)
Chapter 3: Newport 1879-1882; aet. 60-63
A thought for washing day The clothes-line is a Rosary Of household help and care; Each little saint the Mother loves Is represented there.
And when across her garden plot She walks, with thoughtful heed, I should not wonder if she told Each garment for a bead.
A stranger passing, I salute The Household in its wear, And smile to think how near of kin Are love and toil and prayer.
J. W. H.
July, 1879, found our mother at home at Oak Glen, unpacking trunks and reading a book on the Talmud.
She had met the three married daughters in Boston ( We talked incessantly for seven hours, says the Journal), and Florence and Maud accompanied her to Newport, where Florence had established her summer nursery.
There were three Hall grandchildren now, and they became an important factor in the life at Oak Glen.
All through the records of these summer days runs the patter of children's feet.
She kept only one corner of the house for her p
Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1, Chapter 4 241 Beacon Street : the New Orleans Exposition 1883 1885 64 -66 (search)
Chapter 4: 241 Beacon Street: the New Orleans Exposition 1883-1885; aet. 64-66
The full outpouring of power that stops at no frontier, But follows I would with I can, and I can with I do it! J. W. H.
The winter of 1882-83 found her once more with a family of some size, her son and his wife joining forces with her at 241 Beacon Street. In Harry's college days, mother and son had made much music together; now the old music books were unearthed, and the house resounded with the melodies of Rossini and Handel.
It was a gay household, with Crawford living in the reception room on the ground floor; play was the order of the evening, as work was of the day.
The new inmates brought new friends to the circle, men of science, the colleagues of her beloved Bunko, now Professor Howe of the Institute of Technology, Italians, and other Europeans introduced by Crawford.
There was need of these new friends, for old ones were growing fewer.
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