Page 224 - The Story of My Lif

we nearly jumped out of our skins, thinking it was the din of war, and not of a

football game that we heard. But, in spite of all their wild efforts, neither side
was scored, and we all laughed and said, “Oh, well now the pot can’t call the
kettle black!”…

TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON

559 Madison Avenue, New York,

January 2, 1900.

…We have been here a week now, and are going to stay with Miss Rhoades until
Saturday. We are enjoying every moment of our visit, every one is so good to us.
We have seen many of our old friends, and made some new ones. We dined with
the Rogers last Friday, and oh, they were so kind to us! The thought of their
gentle courtesy and genuine kindness brings a warm glow of joy and gratitude to
my heart. I have seen Dr. Greer too. He has such a kind heart! I love him more
than ever. We went to St.

Bartholomew’s Sunday, and I have not felt so much at home in a church since
dear Bishop Brooks died. Dr. Greer read so slowly, that my teacher could tell me
every word. His people must have wondered at his unusual deliberation. After
the service he asked Mr. Warren, the organist to play for me. I stood in the

middle of the church, where the vibrations from the great organ were strongest,
and I felt the mighty waves of sound beat against me, as the great billows beat
against a little ship at sea.

TO MR. JOHN HITZ

138 Brattle Street, Cambridge,

Feb. 3, 1900.

…My studies are more interesting than ever. In Latin, I am reading Horace’s
odes. Although I find them difficult to translate, yet I think they are the loveliest
pieces of Latin poetry I have read or shall ever read. In French we have finished