Letters of Lydia Maria Child, with a biographical introduction by John G. Whittier and an appendix by Wendell Phillips.

240 LETTERS.
a wash-woman's old shanty to the rear. The result
is a house full of queer nooks and corners, and all
manner of juttings in and out. It seems as if the
spirit of some old architect had brought it from the
Middle Ages and dropped it down in Concord; preserving much better resemblance to the place whence
it was brought than does the Virgin Mary's house,
which the angel carried from Bethlehem to Loretto.
The capable Alcott daughters painted and papered
the interior themselves. And gradually the artistdaughter filled up all the nooks and corners with
panels on which she had painted birds or flowers;
and over the open fire-places she painted mottoes in
ancient English characters. Owls blink at you and
faces peep from the most unexpected places. The
whole leaves a general impression of harmony, of a
medieval sort, though different parts of the house
seem to have stopped in a dance that became confused because some of the party did not keep time.
The walls are covered with choice engravings, and
paintings by the artist-daughter. She really is an
artist.
TO THE SAME.
WAYLAND, 1876.
Whittier, in one of his letters to me, expresses himself about your beloved Robert, thus: "'I know of
nothing nobler or grander than the heroic self-sacrifice of young Colonel Shaw. The only regiment I ever
looked upon during the war was the 54th, on its departure for the South. I shall never forget the scene.
As he rode at the head of his troops, the very flower
of grace and chivalry, he seemed to me beautiful and
awful as an angel of God come down to lead the
host of freedom to victory. I have longed to speak