A TELEGRAM
JOY'S JOURNAL.
"Saturday, June 21st.
"Well, we are here at last, and it is really very nice. I didn't suppose
I should like it so much; but there is a great deal to be seen. We
stopped over one train at Baltimore. It rained like everything, but
uncle wanted us to see the city. So we took a hack and drove about, and
saw Washington's monument. I suppose I ought to describe it, but it was
so rainy I didn't notice it very much. I think monuments look like big
ghosts, and then I'm always afraid they'll tumble over on me.
"Gypsy said she wondered whether George Washington ever looked down out
of heaven to see the monuments, and cities, and towns, and all the
things that are named after him, and what he thought about it. Wasn't it
queer in her?
"We stopped at a great cathedral there is in Baltimore, too. It was very
handsome, only so dark. I saw some Irish women saying their prayers
round in the pews, and there was a dish of holy water by the door, and
they all dipped their fingers in it and crossed themselves as they went
in and out.
"We saw ever so many negroes in Baltimore, too. From the time you get to
Philadelphia, on to Washington, there are ever so many; it's so
different from New England. I never saw so many there in all my life as
we have seen these few days. Gypsy doubled up her fist and looked real
angry when she saw them sometimes, and said, 'Just to think! perhaps
that man is a slave, or that little girl!' But I never thought about it
somehow. To-morrow I will write about Washington. Baltimore has taken up
all my room."
GYPSY'S JOURNAL.
Willard's Hotel, Saturday Night.
"You ought to have seen the yellow omnibus we came up from the depot
in! Such a _looking_ thing! It was ever so long, something like a square
stove-pipe, pulled out; and it was real crowded, and the way it jolted!
There were several of them there waiting for the passengers. I should
think they might have some decent, comfortable horse-cars, the way they
do in other cities. I think it's very nice at Philadelphia. They come to
the depots at every train, and go down at every train. Father says the
horse-car arrangements are better in Philadelphia than they are in
Boston or New York.
"It seems very funny here, to be in a city that is under military rule.
There are a great many soldiers, and barracks where they sleep; and a
great many tents, too. There are forts, father says, all around the
city, and Monday we can see some of them. While we were riding up from
the depot I saw six soldiers marching along with a Rebel prisoner.
Father says they found him hanging around the Capitol, and that he was a
Rebel spy. He had on a ragged coat, and a great many black whiskers, and
he was swearing terribly. I didn't feel sorry for him a bit, and I hope
they'll hang him, or something; but father says he doesn't know.
"We are at Willard's Hotel. Father came here for the same reason he went
to the Brevoort--so we might see what it was like. It is very large,
and so many stairs! and such long dining-tables, and so many men eating
at them. We didn't have as nice a supper as we did in New York.
"It is late now, and the lamps are lighted in the streets. I can see
from the window the people hurrying by, and some soldiers, and one funny
little tired mule drawing a great wagon of something.
"There! he's stopped and won't move an inch, and the man is whipping him
awfully. The wicked old thing....
"I was just going to open the window and tell him to stop, but father
says I mustn't.
"As we rode up from the depot, I saw a great round dim thing away in
the dark. Father says it is the dome of the Capitol."
GYPSY'S JOURNAL.
"After Sundown, Sunday Night.
"Father says it isn't any harm to write a little about what we saw
to-day, because we haven't been anywhere except to church.
"The horrid old gong woke me up real early this morning. I should have
thought it very late at home, but they don't have breakfast in hotels
till eight o'clock hardly ever, and you can get up all along till
eleven, just as you like. This morning we were so tired that we didn't
want to get up a bit.
"There was a waiter at the table that tipped over a great plateful of
beefsteak and gravy right on to a lady's blue silk morning-dress. She
was a Senator's wife, and she jumped like anything. Joy said, 'What a
shame!' but I think it's real silly in people to wear blue silk
morning-dresses, because then you can't wear anything any nicer, and you
won't feel dressed up in the afternoon a bit.--Oh, I forgot! this isn't
Sunday!
"Well, we all went to church this morning to Dr. Gurley's church. Dr.
Gurley is a Presbyterian, father says. I don't care anything about that,
but I thought you might. That is the church President Lincoln goes to,
and we went there so as to see him.
"He sat clear up in front, and I couldn't see anything all through the
sermon but the back of his head. We sat 'most down by the door. Besides,
there was a little boy in the pew next ours that kept his father's
umbrella right over the top of the pew, and made me laugh. He was just
about as big as Winnie. Oh, they say _slip_ here instead of pew, just as
they do in Boston. I don't see what's the use. Joy doesn't like it
because I keep saying pew. She says it's countrified. I think one is
just as good as another.
"Well, you see, we just waited, and father looked at the minister, and
Joy and I kept watching the President's kid gloves. They were black
because he's in mourning for his little boy, and he kept putting his
hand to his face a great deal. He moved round too, ever so much. I kept
thinking how tired he was, working away all the week, taking care of
those great armies, and being scolded when we got beaten, just as if it
were all his fault. I think it is real good in him to come to church
anyway. If I were President and had so much to do, and got so tired, I'd
stay at home Sundays and go to sleep,--if you'd let me. I think
President Lincoln must be a very good man. I'm sure he is, and I'll tell
you why.
"After church we waited so as to see him. There were ever so many
strangers sitting there together,--about fifty I should say, but father
laughed and said twenty. Well, we all stood up, and he began to walk
down the aisle with his wife, and I saw his face, and he isn't homely,
but he looks real kind, and oh, mother! so sober and sad! and I _know_
he's a good man, and that's why.
"Mrs. Lincoln was dressed all in black, with a long crape veil. She kind
of peeked out under it, but I couldn't see her very well, and I didn't
think much about her because I was looking at him.
"Well, then, you see there were some people in front of me, and I
couldn't see very well, so I just stepped up on a cricket so's to be
tall, and what do you think? When the President was opposite, just
opposite, and looked round at us, that old cricket had to tip over, and
down I went, flat, in the bottom of the pew!
"I guess my cheeks were as red as two beets when I got up; and the
President saw me, and he looked right at me,--right into my eyes and
laughed. He did now, really, and he looked as if he couldn't help it,
possibly.
"When he laughs it looks like a little sunbeam or something, running all
over his face.
"Father says we shan't probably see him again. They don't have any
receptions now at the White House, because they are in mourning.
"We went to a Quaker meeting this afternoon, but there isn't any time to
tell about it."
JOY'S JOURNAL.
"Monday, June 23.
"Oh dear me! We've seen so much to-day I can't remember half of it. I
shall write what I can, and Gypsy may write the rest.
"In the first place, we went to the Capitol. It's built of white marble,
and it's very large. There are quantities of long steps on different
sides of it, and so many doors, and passages, and rooms, and pillars. I
never could find my way out, in the world, alone. I wonder the Senators
don't get lost sometimes.
"About the first place you come into is a round room, called the
rotunda. Uncle says rotunda means round. There are some pictures there.
One of them is Washington crossing the Delaware, with great cakes of ice
beating up against the boat. One of the men has a flag in his hand.
Gypsy and I liked it ever so much.
"Oh!--the dome of the Capitol isn't quite finished. There is
scaffolding up there, and it doesn't look very pretty.
"Well, then we went upstairs, and I never saw such handsome stairs! They
are marble, and so wide! and the banisters are the most elegant
variegated marble,--a sort of dark brown, and they are _so_ broad! Why,
I should think they were a foot and a half broad, but then I don't know
exactly how much a foot is.
"We went into two rooms that Gypsy and I both liked best of anything.
One is called the Marble Room, and the other the Fresco Room. The Marble
Room is all made of marble,--walls, floor, window-sills, everything but
the furniture. The marble is of different colors and patterns, and
_just_ as beautiful! The furniture is covered with drab damask.
"The Fresco Room is all made of pictures. Frescoes are pictures painted
on the ceilings, Uncle says. He says Michael Angelo, the great sculptor
and artist, used to paint a great many, and that they are very
beautiful. He says he had to lie flat on scaffoldings while he was
painting the domes of great churches, and that, by looking up so, in
that position, he hurt his eyes very much. This room I started to tell
about is real pretty. I've almost forgotten what the furniture is
covered with. Seems to me it is yellow damask, or else it's the Marble
Room that's yellow, and this is drab,--or else--I declare! We've seen
so much to-day, I've got everything mixed up!
"Uncle has just been correcting our journals, and he says it isn't
proper to say 'I've got,' but I ought to say 'I have.'
"Oh, I forgot to say that the Senators' wives and daughters who are
boarding here are very stylish people. When I grow up I mean to marry a
Senator, and come to Washington, and give great parties.
"I don't see why I don't hear from father. You know it's nearly three
weeks now since I had a letter. I thought I should have one last week,
just as much as could be."
GYPSY'S JOURNAL.
"Eight o'clock, Monday Night.
"Joy has told ever so much about the Capitol, and I don't want to tell
it all over again. If I forget it, I can look at her journal, you know.
"But she didn't tell about Congress. Well, you see if we'd come a little
later we shouldn't have seen them at all; and if it didn't happen to be
a long session we shouldn't see them so late in the season. But then we
did. I'm very glad, only I thought it was rather stupid.
"I liked the halls, anyway. They're splendid, only there's a great deal
of yellow about them; and then there are some places for pictures, and
the pictures aren't put up yet.
"There's a gallery runs round, where visitors sit. The Senators and
Representatives are down on the floor. We went into the Senate first.
They sat in seats that curved round, and the President of the
Senate--that's Vice-President Hamlin--he sits in a sort of little
pulpit, and looks after things. If anybody wants to speak, they have to
ask him, and he says, 'The Senator from so-and-so has the floor.' Then
when they get into a fight, he has to settle it. Isn't it funny in such
great grown-up men to quarrel? But they do, like everything. There was
one man got real mad at Mr. Sumner to-day.
"I didn't care about what they were talking about, but it was fun to
look down and see all the desks and papers, and some of them were just
as sleepy as could be. Then they kept whispering to each other while a
man was speaking, and sometimes they talked right out loud. If I should
do that at school, I guess Miss Cardrew would give it to me. But what I
thought was queerest of all, they all talked right _at_ the
Vice-President, and kept saying, 'Mr. President,' and 'Sir,' just as if
there weren't anybody else in the room.
"Some of the Senators are handsome, and a good many more aren't. Joy
stood up for Mr. Sumner because he came from Massachusetts. He _is_ a
nice-looking man, and I had to say so. He has a high forehead, and he
looks exactly like a gentleman. Besides, father says he has done a noble
work for the country and the slaves, and the rest of New England ought
to be just as proud of him as Massachusetts.
"We went into the House of Representatives, too, and it was a great deal
noisier there than it was in the Senate, there were so many more of
them. I saw one man eating peanuts. Most all of them looked hungry. The
man that sits up behind the desk and takes care of the House, is called
the Speaker. I think it's real funny, because he never makes a speech.
As we came out of the Capitol, father turned round and looked back and
said: 'Just think! All the laws that govern this great country come out
from there.' He said some more about it, too, but there was the funniest
little negro boy peeking through the fence, and I didn't hear.
"We went to the White House next. Father says it's something like a
palace, only some palaces are handsomer. It's white marble like the
Capitol. We went up the steps, and a man let us right in. We saw two
rooms. One is called the Red Room and one the Green Room.
The Red Room is furnished in red damask and the Green is all green. They
were very handsome, only all the furniture was ranged along the walls,
and that made it seem so big and empty. Father says that's because these
rooms are used for receptions, and there is such a crowd.
"There is a Blue Room, too, that visitors are sometimes let into. Father
asked the doorkeeper; but he said, 'The family were at breakfast in it.'
That was _eleven o'clock_! I guess I'd like to be a President's
daughter, and not have to get up. We didn't see anything more of
President Lincoln.
"We've been going all day, and we've been to the Patent Office and the
Smithsonian Institute, but I'm too tired to say anything about them."
GYPSY'S JOURNAL.
"Tuesday.
"We've been over to Alexandria--that's across the Potomac River--in
the funniest little steamboat you ever saw. When you went in or came out
of the cabin, you have to crawl under a stove-pipe. It wasn't high
enough to walk straight. I don't like Alexandria. It's all mud and
secessionists. People looked cross, and Joy was afraid they'd shoot us.
We saw the house where Col. Ellsworth was shot at the beginning of the
war. The man was very polite, and showed us round. The plastering around
the place where he fell, and _all the stairs_, had been cut away by
people as relics. We saw the church where Gen. Washington used to go,
too."
JOY'S JOURNAL
"Wednesday Night.
"We are just home from Mount Vernon and we've had a splendid time. We
went in a steamboat; it's some way from Washington. You can go by land,
if you want to. It was real pleasant. Gen. Washington's house was
there,--a queer, low old place, and we went all over it. There was a
nice garden, and beautiful grounds, with woods clear down to the water.
He is buried on the place under a marble tomb, with a sort of brick shed
all around it. There is nothing on the tomb but the word Washington. His
wife is buried by him, and it says on hers, Martha, Consort of
Washington. All the gentlemen took off their hats while we stood there.
To-morrow we are going to Manassas, if there is a boat. Uncle is going
to see. I am having a splendid time. Won't it be nice telling father all
about it when he comes home?"
[Illustration]
Joy laid down her pen suddenly. She heard a strange noise in her uncle's
room where he and Gypsy were sitting. It was a sort of cry,--a low,
smothered cry, as of some one in grief or pain. She shut up her
portfolio and hurried in. Mr. Breynton held a paper in his hand. Gypsy
was looking over his shoulder, and her face was very pale.
"What is it? What's the matter?"
Nobody answered.
Mr. Breynton turned away his face. Gypsy broke out crying.
"Why, what _is_ the matter?" said Joy, looking alarmed.
"Joy, my poor child--" began her uncle. But Gypsy sprang forward
suddenly, and threw her arms around Joy's neck.
"Oh, Joy, Joy,--your father!"
"Let me see that paper!" Joy caught it before they could stop her,
opened it, read it,--dropped it slowly. It was a telegram from
Yorkbury:--
"_Boston papers say Joy's father died in France two weeks ago._"