As I had not fully recovered my strength, a room on the ground floor was allotted to me, so that I need not climb the stairs. A furnace burning wood was put into the house as being more wholesome than anthracite coal.
Once or twice I heard a friendly tap on the window-pane, and opened the door to admit brother Harry, who had forgotten his latch-key. From the lapel of his dress-coat gleamed many favors, tokens of the mimic victories of the german. For he was a good dancer and a favorite in society.
Fifty years later, when the John Fritz gold medal was presented to him, at a meeting of the United Engineering Societies held in his honor, I again saw stars shining upon his breast, the tokens not of mimic, but of real victories. For brother Harry has won golden opinions by his strenuous work, and many honors, from foreign countries as well as from England and America, have been bestowed on him. Yet he has taken them all with a modesty that disarms envy.
In 1869 he graduated from Harvard College. His class day was an event in the family, especially for sister Laura, who was then at the right age—nineteen—to enjoy the festival fully. Various desperate swains attended her on that day and made love to her amid the classic shades of the old Harvard Yard. She was a pretty, perhaps a beautiful girl, with a sweetness and freshness of disposition delightful to behold. Though clever and witty, she was too amiable to say sharp things. Hence great was the number of her admirers.
I had now assumed the cares of the family housekeeping, as well as a certain supervision over the clothes of the younger sisters. Sister Julia was not interested in these things. It must be regretfully admitted that under my sway plain living was too much accentuated. Finding a diet of prunes and toast for supper (dinner was still at two o’clock) monotonous and uninteresting, the family rebelled and declared they must have a more generous and varied bill of fare. Even my father questioned whether, in view of my natural tendencies to economy, it might have been a mistake to teach me bookkeeping! I do not think this was his real opinion, however. During one of my absences from home he wrote that he missed me as the regulating clock of the establishment. The high prices which continued to prevail long after the end of the Civil War made prudence in expenditure necessary for people of moderate income. I kept the family accounts, the central figure from whom we received funds, and who was supposed to demand an exact accounting of all moneys given out, being put down as “The House.” My father once jokingly exclaimed, “Who _is_ House? Every one seems to be against him!”
