no bathing shoes and stockings, but, accompanied by a
stalwart bathing master, we enjoyed many dips in the briny deep, and
were brought safely back by him to our bath house. There was no
immodest lingering on the beach; this privilege was reserved for the
advanced civilization of a later day.

While I was still a young child, and some years after our visit to Long
Branch, my infant brother Malcolm became seriously ill. Dr. John W.
Francis, our family physician, prescribed a change of air for him, and
my parents took him to Newport. We found pleasant accommodations for our
family in a fashionable boarding house on Thames Street, the guests of
which were composed almost exclusively of Southern families. Newport was
then in an exceedingly primitive state and I have no recollection of
seeing either cottages or hotels, while modern improvements were
unknown. We led a simple outdoor life, taking our breakfast at eight,
dining at two and supping at six. It was indeed "early to bed and early
to rise."

As I recall these early days in Newport, two fascinating old ladies,
typical Southern gentlewomen, the Misses Philippa and Hetty Minus of
Savannah, present themselves vividly to my memory. After we returned to
our New York home we had the pleasure of meeting them again and
entertaining them. Another charming guest of our establishment was the
wife of James L. Pettigru, an eminent citizen of South Carolina. She was
the first woman of fashion presented to my girlish vision, and her mode
of life was a revelation. She kept very late hours, often lingering in
her room the next morning until midday. As I was then familiar with Miss
Edgeworth's books for young people, which all judicious parents
purchased for their children, I immediately designated Mrs. Pettigru as
"Lady Delacour," whose habits and fashions are so pleasingly described
in that admirable novel, "Belinda." Although born and bred in South
Carolina, Mr. Pettigru remained loyal to the Union, and after his death
his valuable library was purchased by Congress. The members of another
representative South Carolina family, the Allstons, were also among our
fellow boarders at Long Branch. This name always brings to mind the
pathetic history of Theodosia Burr, Aaron Burr's only child, and her sad
death; while the name of Washington Allston, the artist, is too well
known to be dwelt upon.

After a month's pleasant sojourn in Newport my brother's health had
materially improved an