_December 18th_.--Begin with A. L., in Beacon Street. I taught C. when
we lived in High Street, A. in Pinckney Street, and now Al; so I seem
to be an institution and a success, since I can start the boy, teach
one girl, and take care of the little invalid. It is hard work, but I
can do it; and am glad to sit in a large, fine room part of each day,
after my sky-parlor, which has nothing pretty in it, and only the gray
tower and blue sky outside as I sit at the window writing. I love
luxury, but freedom and independence better.
[_To her father, written from Mrs. Reed's_]
_Boston, November 29, 1856_.
DEAREST FATHER: Your little parcel was very welcome to me as I sat
alone in my room, with snow falling fast outside, and a few tears in
(for birthdays are dismal times to me); and the fine letter, the pretty
gift, and, most of all, the loving thought so kindly taken for your old
absent daughter, made the cold, dark day as warm and bright as summer
to me.
And now, with the birthday pin upon my bosom, many thanks on my lips,
and a whole heart full of love for its giver, I will tell you a little
about my doings, stupid as they will seem after your own grand
proceedings.
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