. . . .
Nothing of moment happened the next day, at least, not till two o'clock,
when I went with Mr. Bowman to Birch's eating-house (it is not Birch's
now, but this was the name of the original founder, who became an
alderman, and has long been dead) for a basin of turtle-soup. It was
very rich, very good, better than we had at the Lord Mayor's, and the
best I ever ate.
In the evening, Mr. J. B. Davis, formerly our Secretary of Legation,
called to take us to dine at Mr. ------'s in Camden Town. Mr. ------
calls his residence Vermont House; but it hardly has a claim to any
separate title, being one of the centre houses of a block. I forget
whether I mentioned his calling on me. He is a Vermonter, a graduate of
Yale College, who has been here several years, and has established a sort
of book brokerage, buying libraries for those who want them, and rare
works and editions for American collectors. His business naturally
brings him into relations with literary people; and he is himself a
kindly and pleasant man. On our arrival we found Mr. D------ and one of
his sisters already there; and soon came a Mr. Peabody, who, if I mistake
not, is one of the Salem Peabodys, and has some connection with the
present eminent London Mr. Peabody. At any rate, he is a very sensible,
well-instructed, and widely and long travelled man. Mr. Tom Taylor was
also expected; but, owing to some accident or mistake, he did not come
for above an hour, all which time our host waited.
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