" Here
is a letter from Pittsfield which describes him there upon his arrival
one year in spring:--
PITTSFIELD, June 13, 1852.
MY DEAR MR. FIELDS,--I have just received your very interesting note,
and the proof which accompanied it. I don't know when I ever read
anything about myself that struck me so piquantly as that story about
the old gentleman. It is almost too good to be true, but you are not
in the habit of quizzing. The trait is so naturelike and Dickens-like,
no American--no living soul but a peppery, crotchety, good-hearted,
mellow old John Bull--could have done such a thing. God bless him!
Perhaps the verses are not much, and perhaps he is no great judge
whether they are or not: but what a pleasant thing it is to win the
hearty liking of any honest creature who is neither your relation nor
compatriot, and who must fancy what pleases him for itself and nothing
else!
I will not say what pleasure I have received from Miss Mitford's kind
words. I am going to sit down, and write her a letter with a good deal
of myself in it, which I am quite sure she will read with indulgence,
if not with gratification. If you see her, or write to her, be sure to
let her know that she must make up her mind to such a letter as she
will have to sit down to.
I am afraid I have not much of interest for you. It is a fine thing to
see one's trees and things growing, but not so much to tell of. I have
been a week in the country now, and am writing at this moment amidst
such a scintillation of fireflies and chorus of frogs as a cockney
would cross the Atlantic to enjoy.
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