The World As I Have Found It | Page 7

one of my little
books with red, white and blue ribbons, I sent it to him with a little note,
asking its acceptance from the authoress, a Baltimore lady, in behalf of
her native city, then under a cloud, the Massachusetts troops having
been stoned by a mob collected from various points, and for which she
bore the undeserved odium. These I sent in their tri-colored dress,
expecting only a silent reception. But, as I sat at dinner in my hotel,
there came a singular and unexpected response in the person of the
General himself. He was introduced by the landlord, and was
accompanied by his little daughter, holding in her hand my token, as
she smilingly approached me in her fairy-like beauty. A delightful chat
ensued, and an urgent request upon his part that I should visit Cresson
Springs, to which he had resorted with his family in order to recuperate
his health, shattered by the protracted and gallant defense of one of our
national citadels.
With a kind "good bye" he left, and as I passed out of the dining-room
door I received an evidence of his great delicacy in a token he would
not publicly tender. The landlord handed me a box from him containing
a handsome plain gold ring, ever since cherished as a memento; and,
although worn by time, there is still legible the name engraved within

this shining circlet, even that of General Anderson.
After canvassing Altoona I went to Cresson Springs and was no sooner
registered than I received a card from the General. Meeting me in the
parlor, he gave me a cordial welcome, after which he said: "Now I am
going to assist you in your sales." He drew together three of the parlor
tables, and, taking one hundred of my books, he placed them thereon,
together with specimens of my bead work, which he artistically
arranged in the national colors. It needed but a wave of the magician's
wand, for such he seemed, to evoke the spirits of generosity and love,
and through these all of my volumes vanished, as well as much of the
bead work. At General Anderson's request I took my work to the parlor,
and amid a group of wondering ones, many of whom were members of
his own family, I showed them how the blind could deftly weave these
little trinkets, the fashioning of the "bijou" baskets needing no sight to
arrange the colors, with celerity and skill. I was also, at his request,
seated at his family table, and time will never erase the memory of
words which fell from the lips of the warrior, as gently, as lovingly, as
if a woman's voice were breathing words of comfort and affection. In
after time, when tidings of his death were borne from a foreign land,
when the perfumed breath of sunny France received the last sigh of our
hero, I dropped many a tear, which truly welled up from the depths of a
sorrowing heart.
In the winter I made Philadelphia my head-quarters, stopping at the
home of Mr. and Mrs. Mack, both of whom were blind when married,
and who both possess great musical talent, which they utilized by
teaching piano music, thus earning a handsome support and purchasing
the home they then occupied, a tasteful, comfortable domicile. It was
well for me I selected this spot, for it afterward proved "a City of
Refuge." I was soon prostrated with a severe typhoid fever, and was so
kindly cared for by this dear family, who, by tender ministration,
nursed the little spark of hope, and brought me from death unto life.
Their two sweet children and their musical prattle will ever be recalled
as illuminated pictures upon the red-lettered page of life's history.
Of the tender care of Miss Fowler too much cannot be said. It was to

her assiduous attention I was also, in a great degree, indebted for my
recovery.
During this illness I could also number two other ministering spirits, Dr.
Seiss, a Lutheran minister, who constantly visited me, and gave me
many a word of comforting support, and Professor Brooks, who was
called to my bedside as medical attendant.
He had been for many years an eminent allopathic physician, and was
then a professor in the Homeopathic College of Philadelphia.
He also faithfully and unremittingly ministered to me during the many
weeks of fever and prostration.
When I was almost well I one day said to him: "Doctor, what do I owe
you?" The sweet serenity of his face merged into a benevolent beam,
and in the vernacular of the Society of Friends, of which he was a
member, he said: "Mary, Rachel and I have been talking it over, and we
have concluded that thee will be too delicate to