New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1870-09-18
charmed obscuritv, known only to ia

Inc next Gay was OeVOtcO 10 Eocb .sH0
writing home, but was not unnote-worthy,
experience. l saw real Gypsey; and, for
the first time in my life had my fortune toid'
that fortune, which, according to the com
mon view, has been so long made. That she
was gipsey, appeared plainly in her large
dark ewes, her wild, weather-roughened
beauty, and, above all. in the red kerchlei
on her head, and the gaudy gracefulness OF
her drapery. True, my unimaslnatly i'.
friend declared that she was only
that she was genuine Gypsy. Did she not
read my palm land my face, too, 1or that
.natterj, and talk wisely about my planet,
and tell me ever so MANY true things ABOUT
the past, and promise mc-no matter what
for the future! She certainly must have
been a Gypsy: although she made some
funny mistakes as to the domestic condition
of certain members of the party, giving to a
CAV bachelor, who was present, making a
morning call, the ownership of the fair
matron of the mansion and her three beauti-
full children. and promising to the Invested
husband and father a speedy union to the
girl of his choice" This last prophecy
was. however. given gratis, rs an induce
ment to have the whole of his fortune told,
which he persistently declined. The
woman had undoubtedly been asking ques-
tons in the neighborhood, and had got
things 'mixed up
That evening, in that quiet New England
village, l enjoyed u musical treat which
would not have been unworthy OF the
choicest musical cOterie of New Orleans.
Two clear melodiOus, highly cultivated
female voices, blended and contrasted in
one of those thrilling duets which touch the
heart, while affording an almost sensual
pleasure to the ear; Il pleasure comparable
to that enjoyed by the palate i'll drinking
some deliciously, celebrating beverage.
True, J. understood not word, tor the
language was Italian, but then, find it by
no means necessary to understand the words
of a piece in order to relish fine music. The
imagination supplies words of its own,
antl sometimes better ones than those OF the
rhymsters who make it their business.
In the town of Belmont, near Boston, Is
an elegant mansion and estate called
"Cushings,' after former owner. 1t Is %
lordly domain. and is thrown open to the
inspection of visitors with lordly lberality
IA privilege of which we awaited ourselves
the day after the Gypsy's visit.
The house and grounds reminded me OF
descriptions have read of the country seats
of the English nobility, with its porter 5
lodge; its magnificent lawn, shaded here
and there by stately elms and oaks, and
ornamented by statuary and fountains; its
elaborate garden, glowing with parterres of
the choicest flowers; sits hot-houses, fra
grant with fruit of paradisiacal lusciousness;
its conservatory, filed with plants of tropi-
cal luxuriance. and fairy-like beauty; its
hedges, shutting out the turmoil of the
common work-day world, and shutting in an
Eden; its arborS, where the most tlmld
love would feel encouraged to tell Its witch
ing tale; above all its park the very real
ization of the parks we have dreamed OF.
Every charm of nature and every resource
of art seem united to make this chosen spot
a heaven upon earth; and yet the house Is
closed, and the owners of this paradise are
absent. Can they be seeking elsewhere
that great desideratum of so many of the
neutrality-suspicious.; can i'll health have
driven them from this fair abode, or merely
love of change. But this is gossip.
From "Cushing's" we rode to Mount
Auburn, a cemetery, SO beautiful that it
must be quite pleasure to be buried there.
if it is ever a pleasure to be buried at all.
Here We saw many elegant tombs and many
touching inscriptions, but nothing that in
terested me as much as that simple shaft in
the county graveyard, which marks the
resting place of "Polly Jones'
In passing to, or from, Mount Auburn, Il
forget which), we traversed Cambridge and
saw Harvard" the alma mater whose
bounteous breast has fed the minds OF
so many of our most distinguished men.
Not yet satiated with sightseeing, and
DESTROYS to avail ourselves of the favorable
weather, which still remained bright and
balmy, we started early next morning fol
Walden Pond, intending to go by the way
of the Concord road, that we might see En-
ersOn's house. But fortune had something
in store for us better than We had laid out
for ourselves, for we not only saw Emer-
sol's house, but Emerson himself, and not
only saw him, but heard him speak. 1t was
in this wise: Having passed the residence
Of the philosopher, with Il strong though Sc
cret desire on my part, to enter and lnrrude
upon his privacy, repressed by the consld-
Grafton that to be beset by mediOcrity this
refers to myself only is one of the greatest
taxes on eminence, and by natural aver
sion to increasing that tax. we were return
ing by another road, which we thought was
that to Walden Pond. Not being certain
however, we were discussing the matter
| our eyes still fixed ON the house, when the
great man himself made his appearance
crossing a field that led to the high road.
''I1l speak to him, and give you chance
to get good look at him" exclaimed oul
impulsiye escort And before we could OBJ
ject. he called out, to the surprise and con
fusion Of his wife and myself, Mr. Elmer
son, can you tell me which is the way tG
Walden Pond e.
A slight increase of color spread over the
| placid face Of the philosopher, as looking al
us with smile, he replied:
you have the first turning to the right
| on this road"
As he spoke looked at him earnestly
perhaps too much SO for politeness; but, il
a 1.-THE of the admiration l felt was express
ed in my countenance, he must be very
| philosophic philosopher to be altogether in
different to such homage. In person. Mr.
Emerson is tall and somewhat angular
| with an easy and dignitied, but not alto
! gether upright carriage. His face is Ions
and rather narrow in the lower part
his eyes large and bright; his nos,
| long and prominent, his complexion
rather fresh, and his smile benevolent. Hi
| forehead could not be seen, being covered
| by his hat. His voice was very melodious
He was evidently amused at.our manau
vre; tor, on looking back out of the small
pane of glass in the carriage, one OF us saw
| him still smiling.
We, ladies, were quite shocked at our es
cort's having addressed Mr.. Emerson b,
name, instead of speaking to him as a stran
| ger, but were soon treasured by the sugges
ton that we should be simply taken fo
members of the spiritual convention, or pic
mic, assembled at Walden Pond and so dis
missed from the philosophers mind.
Following his directions and Laughing
! over our adventure, we soon reached Wal
den but. ali how changed from the 70
mantle wildness on which the poet so fondl,
dwells. A huge rough shed, flied will
coarse benches, and devoted to coarse pleas
urcs, was the first object that offended tn.
! eye; still further shocked to dwell upo1
drinking booths, lighthouses, fancy boats
and motley crowd of ordinary pleasure
seekers. Oh if the shade of him who's,
eloquent eulogies have attracted to thi
once lovely lake the footsteps of the profan,
! multitude who desccrate It's shores cnult