why bring in that word so distinctively belonging
to the French?

Miss Lynch was just "at home" and made all who came to her happy and
at their best. Fredrika Bremer, the celebrated Norwegian writer, was
her guest for several weeks at her home in Ninth Street. Catherine
Sedgwick attended several of her receptions, wondering at the charm
which drew so many. There Edgar Poe gave the first reading of "The
Raven" before it was printed. Ole Bull, who knew her then, was a
life-long friend to her. Fanny Kemble, Bryant, Halleck, Willis were
all devoted friends.

After her marriage to Professor Vincenzo Botta, nephew of the
historian Botta, and their taking a house in Thirty-seventh Street,
she gathered around her table the most interesting and distinguished
men and women of the day, and the "Saturday Evenings" were continued
with increasing crowds. She had a most expressive face and beautiful
blue eyes. Never one of the prodigious talkers, dressed most quietly,
she was just herself, a sweet-faced, sincere woman, and was blessed
with an atmosphere and charm that were felt by all.

At one of her breakfasts I recollect Emerson, who often visited there,
Bryant, Bayard Taylor, and Grace Greenwood. At another, John Fiske,
President Andrew D. White, and other men interested in their line of
thought. I must mention a lady who in the midst of their inspiring
conversation broke forth in a loud tone to Mrs. Botta: "I found a
splendid receipt for macaroni; mix it, when boiled, with stewed
tomatoes and sprinkle freely with parmesan cheese before baking."

One evening Whitelaw Reid brought John Hay. He beckoned to me to come
to him, and presenting Mr. Hay said: "I want to make a prediction in
regard to this young man. If you live long enough you will hear of him
as the greatest statesman and diplomat our country has ever had." A
few evenings after, at a Dramatic Club of great talent, I saw Mr. Hay
figuring as Cupid in Mrs. Jarley's wax-work show. He looked and acted
his part, turning gracefully on his toes to show his wings and quiver
of arrows. And Mr. Reid, mounted on a step-ladder behind a draped
clothes-horse, represented the distressed Lord Ullin whose daughter
was seen eloping in a boat with her Highland chief, the tossing waves
being sheets in full motion.

For years it seemed as if this were the one truly cosmopolitan
drawing-room in the city, because it drew the best from all sources.
Italy and England, France and Germany, Spa