Viewing page 4 of 22

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

quite humiliated to find how weak-minded I am about travelling alone- not that I mind the business parts of it in the least- but that I can't divest myself of the feeling of loniliness- and the sense that I am rather a curiosity to people around me- I think an automaton would be better than nothing- that I could make believe to talk to at table. I find the best way is to speak to every one that I come near- in this way I make a great variety of acquaintances- whose names I rarely know- I always pass for a Mrs. Some body- and generally find out if I get sufficiently acquainted with people- that there has been great speculation as to where Mr. Bridges could be- one of the great inconveniences of being alone is that any unfortunate single gentleman who happens to be near me or to arrive at a Hotel at the same moment as I- is sure to pass for my Monsieur and many absurd blunders follow in consequence- at any rate I am amassing experience- would it might be of [[strikethrough]] experience [[/strikethrough]] service to somebody one of these days. You hope I will spend the Summer in Switzerland or Germany- ah Germany is the thing I have most at heart- but to travel there alone is out of the Question- and I know no one going [[strikethrough]] there [[/strikethrough]] at present. The Shannons are there but they have already been over the ground I most desire to traverse- and it would be useless to join them- if I had only

gone through the Tyrol with them- In Munich- I was strongly tempted- As for Mrs. Taylor- she is at the remotest corner of Switzerland from me- and I don't know how to reach her- it is a journey every step of which I have been over before- and I am afraid I should find their excursions would be the same- if they were only in the [[?]] I should not hesitate to join them. My desires and my opportunities seem to be all at cross-purposes. I hope before my next letter- I shall have been able to untangle the skein

I put this aside last evening dear Phebe hoping a walk would brighten my ideas for I always write you such stupid letters- It is because I write always the news to Lizzie- and supposing she reads you my letters- have nothing left but to babble about uninteresting things. Geneva is what is called a handsome city- fair wide streets- plenty of ambitious buildings. handsome squares with fountains trees and c. but such do not interest me half as much as the queer old crowded Italian towns. with their narrow crooked streets and singular houses- detestable to live in of course- but full of picturesqueness and novelty- here however I find some of the streets in the older part of the town quite amusing- where the market women sit with their huge straw hats on top of white ruffled caps- knitting beside their baskets of fruits and vegetables- indeed