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Thomas Butler Gunn Diaries: Volume 13, page 203, ca. 1860 [newspaper clipping]

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Identifier: DX02789561

Title: Thomas Butler Gunn Diaries: Volume 13, page 203, ca. 1860 [newspaper clipping]

Description: Newspaper clipping written by James Morris under the pseudonym of K.N. Pepper regarding a trip he took to the New England countryside.


[Gunn’s handwriting] [James] Morris’ doings. From the Home Journal.

[newspaper clipping]



Letter from K. N. Pepper.

MESSRS. EDITORS,—Did you ever hear of “Berlin Falls”—with the accent on the first syllable of “Berlin?” As your reply to this straight-forward question would be several days coming, and I can’t wait, I will make bold to say “No!” in your stead, for I’m quite sure you never did. Out of sympathy, I am sorry; for it is my deliberate conviction—based on a stay which already has extended to six weeks, and now bids fair to cover at least six more—that “not to know” Berlin Falls, ought to “argue one’s self unknown.” Had it received its plain deserts, all such as love refined enjoyments would long ago have known this lovely valley and paid tribute to its charms.

How well I remember the reluctance with which I left New-York—much as I wished to escape the terrific “Fourth,” and vitally as I languished in the fearful atmosphere whose poison had begun to infuse itself into my veins—to gratify a friend who had spent a summer here, and who kept “The mountains!—the mountains!” ringing in my ears perpetually for two weeks before I finally “succumbed” and packed up! For, like [Charles] Lamb, I love the city, and my bosom ever yearns toward it with affection. I hate to travel; I always hate to travel. I now confess, with groans and other signs of contrition, that I grumbled all the way, hurting my friend’s feelings by indulging the frequent wish that we were “well out of this,” and back in New-York, whose dust and heat, and even the exasperating chimes of Trinity church, I declared were grown dear to me. Now we were freezing, now melting; now starving, and now obliged to eat under circumstances of profound aggravation. There were fogs, there was rain, there was rolling of boats, there were cars running away from us, cars that never would start, wrong cars, bad tickets, and a thousand other genii whom I called up, only so see them waved back to no- thingness, with a placid smile, by my sweet-tempered friend, whom I suppose I should call Magnanimity herself, and done with it.

At last, the courteous conductor—who had seemed, soon after leaving Portland, to single me out as an object of compassion—called our attention to a not very distant view of Mount Washington and some of his sisters and brothers—not the conductor’s, but the mountain’s. Then I waked up. I hadn’t the heart to murmur any longer.

“This is Gorham,” soon afterward explained our friend, “where people usually stop who come to visit Mount Washington.”

We glanced at the big “Alpine House,” looking rather stiff and uninviting, and I was glad we weren’t going to stop there, any way, tired and hungry as I was.

“Only six miles farther,” said my companion, cheerfully.

By and by we swept into the valley where rushes, leaps, and struggles the glorious Androscoggin—our future friend, whose voice, all music, was thenceforth to sing perpetually in our ears.

“Here we are!” cried the enchanter who had spirited me away, and who was scarcely more delighted than I, at having arrived in safety, and left all care and trouble behind. The conductor bowed, and off we started for the “Hotel.”

“This is ‘the country,’ isn’t it?” I exclaimed, as we paused in our uneven path and surveyed the scenery of the place, and took in, at a glance, the half-score buildings which comprise the village.

“And aren’t you glad it is!” said my friend, with a sort of. . . .

coverage:New York, New York, Cliff Street; Franklin Square; Pearl Street

Rights: NoC-US


Dates: ca. 1860

Type(s): Diary

Maker/Creator: Morris, James

Subjects: Diaries
Fourth of July
Washington, Mount (N.H.)


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