t may add years to his life. Imagine my surprise at receiving
from Scribner a check for one hundred and sixty-four dollars for six
months of Fred and Maria and Me. The little thing has done well, hasn't
it? I feel now as if I should never write, any more; letter-writing is
only talking and is an amusement, but book-writing looks formidable.
Excuse this horrid letter, and write and let me know how you are.
Meanwhile collect grasses, dip them in hot water, and sift flour over
them. Good-bye, dear.

_Fred and Maria and Me_ first appeared anonymously in the Hours at Home,
in 1865. It had been written several years before, and, without the
knowledge of Mrs. Prentiss, was offered by a friend to whom she had
lent the manuscript, to the Atlantic Monthly and to one or two other
magazines, but they all declined it. She herself thus refers to it in
a letter to Mrs. Smith, July 13: "I have just got hold of the Hours at
Home. I read my article and was disgusted with it. My pride fell below
zero, and I wish it would stay there." But the story attracted instant
attention. "Aunt Avery" was especially admired, as depicting a very
quaint and interesting type of New England religious character in the
earlier half of the century. Such men as the late Dr. Horace Bushnell
and Dr. William Adams were unstinted in their praise. In a letter to
Mrs. Smith, dated a few months later, Mrs. Prentiss writes: "Poor old
Aunt Avery! She doesn't know what to make of it that folks make so much
of her, and has to keep wiping her spectacles. I feel entirely indebted
to you for this thing ever seeing the light." When published as a book,
_Fred and Maria and Me_ was received with great favor, and had a wide
circulation. In 1874 a German translation appeared. [6] Although no
attempt is made to reproduce the Yankee idioms, much of the peculiar
spirit and flavor of the original is preserved in this version.

_To Mrs. H. B. Smith, Dorset, August 4, 1868._

Miss Lyman says I have no idea of what Miss W. really is; she looks as
if she would drop to pieces, can not drive out, far less walk, and every
word she speaks costs her an effort. Miss Lyman is not well either; and
what with their health and mine, and A.'s, I see little of them. But
what I do see is delightful, and I feel it to be a real privilege to get
what scraps of their society I can. Our house proves to be far prettier
and more tasteful than I supposed. I am writing up lots of letters, and
if I ever get