400 ELIZABETH CARY AGASSIZ 
nibus reserved for them, which trundled down the 
hill of old Beacon Street, stopping at many doors, 
on through Charles Street to the house of Dr. Oliver 
Wendell Holmes, and so on out over the bridge to 
Cambridge, — a merry little party which was very 
much afraid of Mrs. Agassiz. They felt her eyes con- 
stantly upon them and there was no reprieve. “‘My 
dear Mary,” laying her hand on the culprit’s shoulder, 
“you must study your French verses,” this the mild 
penalty for repeated whisperings in English, in a school 
where French was supposed always to be spoken. 
When we first entered school she received each one 
of us. She told us she would always be there, — always 
to be found by us if, for any reason, we needed her. 
When the term closed, I recall a few words of com- 
mendation and encouragement which she doubtless 
gave to each pupil, sometimes a message to our par- 
ents. Every day she looked in upon the classes — 
looked in and passed on — and when the Agassiz 
lecture came she sat, as one of the listeners, more 
diligent with her note-book than any of us. 
For, with her, Agassiz School was a formative 
period. The seed sown there was to develop into Rad- 
cliffe College and come to its full and beautiful frui- 
tion on that eightieth birthday, five years ago, of 
which the permanent material memorials is this Eliza- 
beth Cary Agassiz House where we are now assembled. 
On that birthday, nearly fifty years had elapsed 
since the opening of Agassiz School, more than twenty 
years since her love and solicitude had been awakened 
in behalf of the Harvard Annex, which ultimately 
