on his way to New
York, has a good chance of being snowed up somewhere. This is one of the
places where Butler carried it with a high hand during the war, and
where the ladies used to spit when they passed a Northern soldier. They
are very handsome women, with an Eastern touch in them, and dress
brilliantly. I have rarely seen so many fine faces in an audience. They
are a bright responsive people likewise, and very pleasant to read to.
My hall is a charming little opera house built by a society of Germans;
quite a delightful place for the purpose. I stand on the stage, with the
drop curtain down, and my screen before it. The whole scene is very
pretty and complete, and the audience have a 'ring' in them that sounds
deeper than the ear. I go from here to Philadelphia, to read to-morrow
night and Friday; come through here again on Saturday on my way back to
Washington; come back here on Saturday week for two finishing nights;
then go to Philadelphia for two farewells--and so turn my back on the
southern part of the country. Our new plan will give 82 readings in
all." (The real number was 76, six having been dropped on subsequent
political excitements.) "Of course I afterwards discovered that we had
finally settled the list on a Friday. I shall be halfway through it at
Washington; of course on a Friday also, and my birthday." To myself he
wrote on the following day from Philadelphia, beginning with a thank
Heaven that he had struck off Canada and the West, for he found the wear
and tear "enormous." "Dolby decided that the croakers were wrong about
Washington, and went on; the rather as his raised prices, which he put
finally at three dollars each, gave satisfaction. Fields is so confident
about Boston, that my remaining list includes, in all, 14 more readings
there. I don't know how many more we might not have had here (where I
have had attentions otherwise that have been very grateful to me), if we
had chosen. Tickets are now being resold at ten dollars each. At
Baltimore I had a charming little theatre, and a very apprehensive
impulsive audience. It is remarkable to see how the Ghost of Slavery
haunts the town; and how the shambling, untidy, evasive, and postponing
Irrepressible proceeds about his free work, going round and round it,
instead of at it. The melancholy absurdity of giving these people votes,
at any rate at present, would glare at one out of every roll of their
eyes, chuckle in their mouths, and bump in their