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novelist and had had published a very controversial novel, "The Call of the South," whose plot revolved around a U.S. president whose daughter married a negro; according to Peg, the book was withdrawn from the market at the request of the White House, I don't recall which incumbent. In my snapshots, I find one showing me riding horseback with a brunette beauty and the caption I've put under it says "Martha Ann and 'the Yankee'," but I can't recall who Martha Ann was. Then there are shots of Lad, Peg's beloved old Collie who was practically a Seminary institution. Those three weeks at Buena Vista seemed to open my eyes geographically somehow, seemed to make me aware of the variety of the people and places that wre [[sic]] becoming available to me suddenly. It was thrilling. I should not forget, either, that I loved my sweet, gentle, soft-voiced Aunt Mary, Fathers youngest sister, whom I'd met when we were south.in my childhood but whom I did not remember. And the same was true of Peg, with whom I was delighted. It all gave me a nice feeling of "family in the south" too, a nice warm, comfortable feeling which I still have although only Peg and Russ are left now as far as blood relatives whom I actually know are concerned, and, of course, Russ isn't blood either although I feel very close to him through Peg.

But this was only the beginning. Mother and I took the train to Roanoke where we caught the sleeper to Norfolk and the Merchants & Miners ship to Boston. The M & M was a very respectable line handling both passenger and freight business in the Atlantic coastal trade. This was to be my first voyage in anything more important than a rowboat and it provided a new adventure. I'd pictured us easing up the coast in sight of land all the way to Boston  and hence was quite surprised to have them head out to sea on a course for Nantucket Island which kept them out of sight of land for the next two days. I loved it and I still recall the long, endless swells of the Atlantic, which were all we were to encounter because the weather was virtually perfect. So at last I was upon the sea that meant so much to my grandfather and to be way out on it this way was an added thrill. I loved to watch the water and breathe air that was more invigorating than anything I could remember, and sleep deeply and eat the great food and just relax and look behind as well as ahead and dream of what had to be in the offing even if my future was going to be in Syracuse. But most immediately, ahead lay Boston and Star Island.

I loved Boston and I could seem to feel its historical atmosphere permeating the whole scene. It was my first visit to a thoroughly historical city and I found it charming in some intangible way that simply got to me through and through. I was to spend much time in Boston in the years to come but never again did I find it as utterly intriguing and beguiling as that first time in the lovely moth of August in the year 1923; it was a great place to be and all was well. Mother and I did a lot of

Transcription Notes:
"month of August" not "moth of August."