It occurs to me that if you and I correspond much this term, according to agreement, it will be requisite to begin pretty soon. I only fear it is already so near Commencement, with you—that I shan’t get an answer. I had an idea that you’d start the wagon; but as you don’t, I think I’ll give you a push.

Our Commencement came off last week with great eclat, so far as I [197]

View of Hartford, Connecticut

[198]

I was disappointed in not hearing Dud. I suppose he’d never worry himself for an appointment.

Like a fool—as if I had not enough experience already of perils by land and sea—I must allow myself to be prevailed upon to attend a small circle of particular, I mean a large soc[iable] party, the other night. And if ever again I am caught in such a scrape, may I be jam’d, bang’d, cram’d, slam’d, and ram’d into something small enough and shot out of’t.

You see, they wanted me to dreadfully. Mother must go & somebody must go with her. Father could not. Nobody else but Fred. Fred’s somebody —ergo—Fred must go—quod erat ridiculous. With a great, heavy, hot, uncomfortable, fashionable, big, black, coat, in addition to feeling remarkably small, as a matter o’course, I was likely to evaporate to nobody,—a coat; = a coat, minus somebody. To avoid which, I wing’d a couple of old maids & stood for the balcony where I backed & fill’d ’em among the sensible folks that had already got out of the ovens—till they were tired. Then moored in the first vacant berths on a sofa, where I cooled off with a caution. As in a few minutes my back was so lame I could just get to the dressing room containing a big bed &c, a bureau glass and comb, very useful, very to me (no brush) a washstand establishment, two clean towels and a dirty one, a thing-amaree and half dozen peacocks’ feathers. Then I managed to get home in a very pleasant humour and have been laid up ever since, which was just what I deserved & be hang’d to’t.

I’ve been trying to discover any mortal pleasure in this business. I examined the women folk very particularly. As far as I could reach, the motive for sacrificing one’s comfort so—with perhaps some desire to oblige others—is to see and show fine dresses; (I can’t imagine it at all as a market where everyone appears under such very disadvantageous circumstances personally) & to taste sweetmeats & flippery. Some pretend they go to enjoy social intercourse. As if rational conversation was allowed in good society, so-called. Oh pshaw! Now do you, or any body but old maids, and scandal mongers, really like these hot beds? I don’t.

Now I’ll tell you the truth, as to how I allowed myself to be sucked in to this scrape. I thought these Condits would be there. They’ve just come—to Commencement. I did want to see them, particularly the youngest. [199]She’s an angel, so to speak, and I’ll tell you why pretty soon. She used to look one in every expression. That is, three years ago. I haven’t seen her since, in the body. And I never conversed with her. I doubt if I could. I don’t speak the language. But—now please don’t laugh & keep your lip down. When I was sick—I was delirious in the Indian Ocean—she used to come. Particularly one night she came and took me ashore on Christmas Island and brought Father and Mother & —. Well, it’s a fact the next morning I was a great deal better.

And now, when I’ve been sick enough to be down, I’ve been on the qui vive to see her and can not. Once they were going out—and Sarah turn’d and looked right in my face—Lord! What eyes she’s got! Heh? But Frances kept poking her head round the other way, as I verily believe on purpose to avoid me.

I wonder if I really shall be an old bach. What a shivering idea—oh my! I tell you it’s haunted me like a nightmare since this last scrape. No! No! Sooner would I take up with one of those country girls—six of whom kissed me—oh—before I went to sea. My dear fellow, what shall I do?

I know your first enquiry if you should see me would be in regard to “the girls.” Why man, there an’t but four in the city I know. The rest I look at sometimes, when I can do it safely. But my tongue’s tied.

When’s my cousin going to be married?

Father wants me to go to New London & Newport tomorrow—but I shan’t leave now.