Between 1865 and 1875 thousands of people came there every
summer to catch a sight of her. How she dared to go to the dinner-table
in the face of such a multitude, I do not know; but after a time she
retained a body-guard of friends, old and young, who were quite
sufficient to keep intruders at a distance; and they could not be
prevented from walking around her cottage, peering in at the windows,
and stealing an occasional flower from her garden. Some even walked
boldly into her parlor to demand an autograph. She received strange
letters also from her unknown admirers. One was from a woman who wished
to come to see her, but was afraid to do so on account of the green
snakes which Hawthorne speaks of as inhabiting Appledore. (Hawthorne
accidentally caught one of these pretty reptiles by the tail, and was
not a little startled by it.) Another was from a naval officer who had
been forcibly retired to a plantation in Maryland. I suppose she was
secretly pleased by this rude homage of the vulgar, but no one knew
better that the approval of her friends Weiss and Whittier was worth the
whole of it.
Meanwhile social life at Appledore had risen to a height. Mrs. Thaxter
welcomed every one who had a claim upon her recognition. Open table was
her motto, rather than exclusiveness; but those who considered
themselves of superior clay found no chairs to sit on in her parlor.
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