Mary Woolsey Howland:
Astoria, Sept., ‘61.
Dear Abby: Sarah and I have been all the morning arranging flowers. . . . Our roses are most luxuriant this year, and just now we have outside the front door two large orange trees from the greenhouse which are one mass of blossom and perfume the whole place. We have been quite on the qui vive yesterday and to-day at the expected arrival of the Great Eastern at Port Morris which is that cluster of buildings, you may remember, next to Casina dock, on the opposite side of the river. The vessel comes consigned to Howland & Aspinwall. The English agents sent them word at the last minute that she would come in by the Sound, so we have been constantly on the look-out. It would be very pleasant to have her lying in sight of the windows for some days. On Saturday we had a fine view of the imperial yacht which passed up the river with royalty on board, and looked beautifully with its gold prow and the gold line running round the sides. Sarah particularly enjoys the river, bathes every day in a highly ornamental costume brought for the purpose, and floats round on the surface like a cork. We have had some charming sails too, and indeed divide our time about equally between the water and the carriage, with occasional short digressions among the rose bushes. Tell Carry that Mr Stagg spent Saturday evening with us, and brought up the package of handkerchiefs which he promised her. They are a dozen of large, fine, colored-bordered ones, very much in the style of those I brought Ned from Paris, and such as I should not at all object to crib for private use. He must have intended them in case of a cold-in-the-head of the War Dept., they are on such a grand scale. However, I thanked him on behalf of the national nose, and will take charge of them for Carry.
“The children are my delight all day, especially Bertha, whose little flower of a face tempts me to continual kisses. Dear little puss, she grows sweeter every day. Una, too, develops continually powers and talents undreamed of. She has learned to say ‘R-r-ra,’ which means Hurrah! and she says it with great enthusiasm whenever a steamer passes full of troops and we all rush out to the bank to wave our handkerchiefs to them,—the children held up by Ann and Maria, and solemnly gesturing with their little hands, and May waving one flag and the gardener’s boy another. The group is so very patriotic that we are generally saluted by cheers from the boats.”
