16 ELIZABETH GARY AGASSIZ 



exquisite China paper on the wall, there would be a circle 

 of young people around the piano preparing hymns for the 

 coming Sunday; for under my father's direction they made 

 the choir at the Nahant church, singing without accom- 

 paniment and with perfect accuracy." 



Of Elizabeth Gary herself, as she grew up in the sur- 

 roundings afforded by Temple Place in winter and Nahant 

 in summer, the most vivid picture that we have is con- 

 tained in Mrs. Curtis's Memories. 



Lizzie was the second child born to my father and 

 mother, and as there was not two years' difference 

 between her and her sister Mary, they grew up to- 

 gether and the tie between them was very close. I 

 remember at Mary's death Lizzie said to me, "I have 

 lost my twin." Though unlike in appearance and char- 

 acter there was one interest equally strong in both, 

 and that was their love of music, which brought them 

 the closer that Mary's contralto and Lizzie's soprano 

 seemed made the one as companion to the other. 

 Their music was partly from Italian operas, but with 

 a mingling of English songs — and these were not 

 English words set to music by German composers, but 

 simply romantic love stories. I remember especially 

 a favorite which was often asked for, in which the 

 first verse ended: "Sister, since I saw thee last. O'er 

 thy brow a shade has passed." The second wound up 

 with, "Gentle sister, thou hast loved"; and the climax 

 was reached with, "Sister, thou hast loved in vain." 

 This was among what you might call the "popular" 

 songs of that day. Another cheerful one of the kind 



