little summer
house opposite Isabella now sits at work on the sewing-machine. My best
love to all three of your dear "chicks," and to your husband if "he's
willin'."

_To Mrs. H.B. Washburn, Chateau d'Oex, August 21, 1858._

... We slipped off without any leave-taking, which I was not sorry for.
I did not want to bid you good-bye. We had to say it far too often as it
was, and, when we fairly set sail we had not an emotion left, but sank
at once into a state of entire exhaustion and stupidity.... We thought
Paris very beautiful until we came in view of the Lake of Geneva, Mt.
Blanc, and other handiworks of God, when straightway all its palaces and
monuments and fountains faded into insignificance. I began to feel that
it was wicked for a few of my friends, who were born to enjoy the land
of lakes and mountains, not to be here enjoying it, and you were one of
them, you may depend. However, whenever I have had any such pangs of
regret in relation to you, I have consoled myself with the reflection
that with your enthusiastic temperament, artist eye, and love of nature,
you never would survive even a glimpse of Switzerland; the land of
William Tell would be the death of you. When you are about eighty years
old, have cooled down about ten degrees below zero, have got a little
dim about the eyes, and a little stiff about the knees, it may possibly
be safe for you to come and break yourself in gradually. I have not
forgotten how you felt and what you did at the White Mountains, you see.

Well, joking apart, we are in a spot that would just suit you in every
respect. We are not in a street or a road or any of those abominations
you like to shun, but our little chalet, hardly accessible save on foot,
is just tucked down on the side of the gentle slope leading up the
mountain. It is remote from all sights but those magnificent ones
afforded by the range of mountains, the green rich valley, and the
ever-varying sky and cloudland, and all sounds save that of a brook
which runs hurrying down its rocky little channel and keeps us company
when we want it. I ought, however, to add that my view of this
particular valley is that of a novice. People say the scenery here is
tame in comparison with what may be seen elsewhere; but look which way I
will, from front windows or back windows, at home or abroad, I am as one
at a continual feast; and what more can one ask? Mr. Prentiss feels that
this secluded spot is just the place for him, and