She says, writing in January, 1861, "Authors are apt, I suppose, like
parents, to have their unreasonable partialities. Everybody has,--and
I have a pleasure in writing 'Agnes of Sorrento' that gilds this icy
winter weather. I write my Maine story with a shiver, and come back to
this as to a flowery home where I love to rest.
"My manuscripts are always left to the printers for punctuation,--as
you will observe,--I have no time for copying."
Mrs. Stowe's health was not vigorous at this period. Incessant drafts
upon her energy had enfeebled her; but her spirit was indomitable, and
when she was weary a brief visit to Boston was, she considered,
sufficient to restore her nervous force. During these visits she
sometimes rehearsed the story of the early days of her married life,
when she fought her way through difficulties and under the burden of
sorrows which would have crushed many another woman.
The tale of the arrival of the family on a wintry day in Brunswick,
Me., where her husband had been appointed to a professorship in
Bowdoin College, of the dreary season, the bitter cold, the unopened
door of an empty house, their future home, left a vivid impression
upon the minds of her listeners; not because of its forlornness, but
because of the splendid energy and patience which she brought to the
occasion and the light she was able to cast over the grimness of
circumstance. Of course, at the date in which this is written, it is
difficult to conceive anything like grimness as associated with the
comfortable and social town of Brunswick, but we must not fail to
remember how rapid the growth of winter comfort has been throughout
New England.
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