ant in some things.
I can not only look out upon the beautiful snow-storm, past the vigorous
blaze of my fire; and upon the snow-veiled buildings which I have
sketched; and upon the churchward drifting umbrellas; and upon the
buffalo-clad cabmen stamping their feet and thrashing their arms on the
corner yonder: but I also look out upon the spot where the first white
men stood, in the neighborhood of four hundred years ago, admiring the
mighty stretch of leafy solitudes, and being admired and marveled at by
an eager multitude of naked savages. The discoverer of this region, and
namer of it, Jacques Cartier, has a square named for him in the city. I
wish you were here; you would enjoy your birthday, I think.
I hoped for a letter, and thought I had one when the mail was handed in,
a minute ago, but it was only that note from Sylvester Baxter. You must
write--do you hear?--or I will be remiss myself.
Give my love and a kiss to the children, and ask them to give you my
love and a kiss from
SAML.
*****
To Mrs. Clemens, in Hartford:
QUEBEC, Sunday. '81.
Livy darling, I received a letter from Monsieur Frechette this morning,
in which certain citizens of Montreal tendered me a public dinner next
Thursday, and by Osgood's advice I accepted it. I would have accepted
anyway, and very cheerfully but for the delay of two days--for I was
purposing to go to Boston Tuesday and home Wednesday; whereas, now I go
to Boston Friday and home Saturday. I have to go by Boston on account of
business.
We drove about the steep hills and narrow, crooked streets of this
old town during three hours, yesterday, in a sleigh, in a driving
snow-storm. The people here don't mind snow; they were all out, plodding
around on their affairs--especially the children, who were wallowing
around everywhere, like snow images, and having a mighty good time.
I wish I could describe the winter costume of the young girls, but I
can't. It is grave and simple, but graceful and pretty--the top of it is
a brimless fur cap. Maybe it is the costume that makes pretty girls seem
so monotonously plenty here. It was a kind of relief to strike a homely
face occasionally.
You descend into some of the streets by long, deep stairways; and in the
strong moonlight, last night, these were very picturesque. I did wish
you were here to see these things. You couldn't by any possibility sleep
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