Jeanette Treadwell, the last of them, died suddenly in
Flushing last summer (1884,) at the age of ninety-four years. I
remember "old Mose," one of the liberated West Hills slaves, well. He
was very genial, correct, manly, and cute, and a great friend of my
childhood.
CANADA NIGHTS--_Late in August_--
Three wondrous nights. Effects of moon, clouds, stars, and
night-sheen, never surpass'd. I am out every night, enjoying all. The
sunset begins it. (I have said already how long evening lingers here.)
The moon, an hour high just after eight, is past her half, and looks
somehow more like a human face up there than ever before. As it grows
later, we have such gorgeous and broad cloud-effects, with Luna's
tawny halos, silver edgings--great fleeces, depths of blue-black in
patches, and occasionally long, low bars hanging silently a while,
and then gray bulging masses rolling along stately, sometimes in long
procession. The moon travels in Scorpion to-night, and dims all the
stars of that constellation except fiery Antares, who keeps on shining
just to the big one's side.
COUNTRY DAYS AND NIGHTS--
_Sept. 30, '82, 4.30 A.M._--I am down in Camden county, New Jersey, at
the farmhouse of the Staffords--have been looking a long while at
the comet--have in my time seen longer-tail'd ones, but never one so
pronounc'd in cometary character, and so spectral-fierce--so like some
great, pale, living monster of the air or sea. The atmosphere and sky,
an hour or so before sunrise, so cool, still, translucent, give the
whole apparition to great advantage.
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