d am glad to sit in a large, fine room part of each day,
after my sky-parlor, which has nothing pretty in it, and only the gray
tower and blue sky outside as I sit at the window writing. I love
luxury, but freedom and independence better.

[_To her father, written from Mrs. Reed's_]

_Boston, November 29, 1856_.

DEAREST FATHER: Your little parcel was very welcome to me as I sat
alone in my room, with snow falling fast outside, and a few tears in
(for birthdays are dismal times to me); and the fine letter, the pretty
gift, and, most of all, the loving thought so kindly taken for your old
absent daughter, made the cold, dark day as warm and bright as summer
to me.

And now, with the birthday pin upon my bosom, many thanks on my lips,
and a whole heart full of love for its giver, I will tell you a little
about my doings, stupid as they will seem after your own grand
proceedings. How I wish I could be with you, enjoying what I have
always longed for--fine people, fine amusements, and fine books. But
as I can't, I am glad you are; for I love to see your name first among
the lecturers, to hear it kindly spoken of in papers and inquired about
by good people here--to say nothing of the delight and pride I take in
seeing you at last filling the place you are so fitted for, and which
you have waited for so long and patiently. If the New Yorkers raise a
statue to the modern Plato, it will be a wise and highly creditable
action.

* * * * * *

I am very well and very happy. Things go smoothly, and I think I shall
come out right, and prove that though an _Alcott_ I _can_ support
myself. I like the independent feeling; and though not an easy life,
it is a free one, and I enjoy it. I can't do much with my hands; so I
will make a battering-ram of my head and make a way through this
rough-and-tumble world. I have very pleasant lectures to amuse my
evenings--Professor Gajani on "Italian Reformers," the Mercantile
Library course, Whipple, Beecher, and others, and, best of all, a free
pass at the Boston Theatre. I saw Mr. Barry, and he gave it to me with
many kind speeches, and promises to bring out the play very soon. I
hope he will.

My farce is in the hands of Mrs. W. H. Smith, who acts at Laura Keene's
theatre in New York. She took it, saying she would bring it out there.
If you see or hear anything about it, let me know. I want something
doing. My mornings are spent in writing. C.