It is a rainy evening and I take it to write to you. Yesterday was a most lovely day. I went to George Dunning’s to dinner. Frank’s wife gave us a splendid dinner,--turkey, pudding, pies, and fruit, grapes and oranges. Betsy was quite disappointed; she meant to have me, but Frank got the start of her and invited me about the middle of the month. I let Delia go home right after breakfast, and told her I would get my supper. I came home from George Dunning’s about three o’clock, took care of the cattle and got an early supper, and had a long evening alone; that was just what I wanted and was planning for. I never can feel that Thanksgiving Day should be all taken up with eating and merriment. I never spent a happier evening than I did last evening in looking over the year, and in praising God for what He has done for me. I have food, fuel, and clothing, and food for my cattle that have come to the barn in excellent order. Let us be grateful. Gladness is not always gratitude.
I have been to Brunswick and preached to the students in Memorial Hall. I will send you and Mary both a notice of it. There are two magazines and you can exchange them. I feel quite happy that I have got through with the students. They checkmated me. I did not want to go and did not mean to, but Dr. Mason, the minister at Brunswick, and President Hyde wrote me and backed them up, and also the Brunswick people who gave me a good deal at the donation and have for several years followed suit; I had to give in. I was afraid I should not be able to see in the evening, as the hall is very large and I have been preaching in a small house for two years; but there was no trouble. It was a splendid light and I had the service all in my own hands; no responsive readings. The students did the singing and gave me two anthems. After it was all over, I had to shake hands with twenty-five or thirty, and President Hyde said he could hear every word.
The town has made a road to the Lookout. They are going to build a wharf in the spring, and the Mere Point boat will run there. It will be of no benefit. It will bring a Sunday boat, rum, and tramps of all kinds.
[Sidenote: Letter to son, March 29, 1894.]
I am glad you are having such good weather, and that you are enjoying yourself setting out fruit trees. You can see now why it is that I am so much attached to this spot. I have been through just what you are going through now. I am eating the fruit of the trees I have planted and grafted, and am sheltered by them in the winter and sit under their shadow in the summer. Such labors attach us in a most singular manner to the spot we have improved. The trees seem almost like children.