116 ELIZABETH GARY AGASSIZ 



The night we arrived here I was walking on the 

 piazza, with Agassiz; the village street so green and 

 fresh last June was parched and dusty, and the katy- 

 dids and crickets seemed singing by hundreds their 

 high, sharp, meagre notes. I said to Agassiz, "I wish 

 you knew the Elijah of Mendelssohn that you might 

 feel as I do with this drought how wonderful the 

 chorus is by which he describes the sufferings of the 

 thirsty people and earth." Do you remember how all 

 the high, sharp notes of the instruments seem to give 

 that meagre dry character which is in the aspect and 

 all the sounds of nature after a long drought? The 

 next day when the relief came I felt still more how 

 perfectly the music expresses the actual thing, and I 

 only wished I could hear in the midst of the drenching 

 rain for which every living thing seemed giving thanks 

 the "Thanks be to God. He laveth the thirsty land, 

 the waters gather, they rush along, they rush along." 

 If we only had the best music ready for our needs, 

 what a grand thing it would be at the breaking up of 

 a drought from which the whole country has suffered 

 to have those choruses sung in all the churches. But 

 was n't it I was going to say, curious but after 

 all only quite natural, considering the truth of the 

 composition, that you and I should both be reminded 

 of it and speak of it at the same time? 



Do you know it was a real relief to me to hear that 

 you had been at the Globe Theatre? I thought some- 

 thing serious must be the matter with you when 

 Fechter's Theatre had been open for weeks and you 

 had nothing to say about it. I hope you and I will go 



