l the afternoon." But what in reality was less grave took
outwardly the form of a greater distress; and the effects of the cold
which had struck him in travelling to Boston, as yet not known to his
English friends, appear most to have alarmed those about him. I depart
from my rule in this narrative, otherwise strictly observed, in singling
out one of those friends for mention by name: but a business connection
with the Readings, as well as untiring offices of personal kindness and
sympathy, threw Mr. Fields into closer relations with Dickens from
arrival to departure, than any other person had; and his description of
the condition of health in which Dickens now quitted Boston and went
through the rest of the labour he had undertaken, will be a sad though
fit prelude to what the following chapter has to tell. "He went from
Boston to New York carrying with him a severe catarrh contracted in our
climate. He was quite ill from the effects of the disease; but he fought
courageously against them. . . . His spirit was wonderful, and, although he
lost all appetite and could partake of very little food, he was always
cheerful and ready for his work when the evening came round. A dinner
was tendered to him by some of his literary friends in Boston; but he
was so ill the day before that the banquet had to be given up. The
strain upon his strength and nerves was very great during all the months
he remained, and only a man of iron will could have accomplished what he
did. He was accustomed to talk and write a good deal about eating and
drinking, but I have rarely seen a man eat and drink less. He liked to
dilate in imagination over the brewing of a bowl of punch, but when the
punch was ready he drank less of it than any one who might be present.
It was the sentiment of the thing and not the thing itself that engaged
his attention. I scarcely saw him eat a hearty meal during his whole
stay. Both at Parker's hotel in Boston, and at the Westminster in New
York, everything was arranged by the proprietors for his comfort, and
tempting dishes to pique his invalid appetite were sent up at different
hours of the day; but the influenza had seized him with masterful power,
and held the strong man down till he left the country."

When he arrived in New York on the evening of Christmas Day he found a
letter from his daughter. Answering her next day he told her: "I wanted
it much, for I had a frightful cold (English colds are nothing to those
of