immediately remarked that it was a selfish idea. And when we began to laugh, and some one said—“Oh, Miss V., do you make such puns?” our good Jothun returned, à la Kentuckian, “Yes, certainly, yes, certainly, she does nothing else. She it is who furnishes all our newspapers with puns.”
But she does other things also for the pleasure of the family, and among these is the manipulation of delicate sponge-cake, the best cake which is made in this country, and of which I have here an abundance, as a reminder of the giant-character of the great West.
You thus may see a little of our every-day life; but the pearl of all to me in social life and conversation is, my charming, sensible, and kind hostess.
I have also here the pleasure of frequently hearing pieces by Beethoven played by a young girl. Miss K. G., one of the most intimate friends of the family; and played with so much fidelity, with such an inward comprehension, that not a tone nor intention of the great master is lost. This is a source to me of the greatest enjoyment. This young lady has in her appearance a great deal of that inward, beaming beauty, which I value beyond the mere exterior beauty, which is more common in the youthful countenances of this country. At my request she has carefully studied Beethoven's second adagio in the fourth symphony which so much charmed me at Boston. Among the people who have given me pleasure here, I must mention a young poetess, Mrs. L., handsome, highly-gifted, and amiable. It is a real musical delight to hear her read poetry.
Many Swedes are resident at this place, and among them several who, after having been unsuccessful in the Old World, have succeeded in the New, and are now in comfortable circumstances. One of these has made his fortune by exhibiting “Hell,” a youthful production of the American sculptor, Hiram Powers, who was born in
