I expect to live out in the air most of the summer. I mean to have as
pleasant a one as possible, because we shall never live so near the
Oaks and other pretty places another summer. If you were not so timid I
should wish you were here to run about with me, but who ever heard of
E. T. _running_? Now, Ellen, I never was _meant_ to be dignified and
sometimes--yea, often--I run, skip, hop, and _once_ I did climb over a
fence! Very unladylike, I know, but I am not a lady.

In the fall of 1837 Mrs. Payson moved again. The incident deserves
mention, as it brought Lizzy into daily intercourse with the Rev. Mr.
French and his wife. Mr. French was rector of the Episcopal church in
Portland, and afterward Professor and Chaplain at West Point. He was
a man of fine literary culture and Mrs. French was a very attractive
woman. In a letter dated "Night before Thanksgiving," and addressed to
the early friend already mentioned, Lizzy refers to this removal and
also gives a glimpse of her active home life:

I have been busy all day and am so tired I can scarcely hold a pen.
Amidst the beating of eggs, the pounding of spices, the furious rolling
of pastry of all degrees of shortness, the filling of pies with
pumpkins, mince-meat, apples, and the like, the stoning of raisins and
washing of currants, the beating and baking of cake, and all the other
_ings_, (in all of which I have had my share) thoughts of your ladyship
have somehow squeezed themselves in. We have really bidden adieu to
"Pumpkin Place," as Mrs. Willis calls it, and established ourselves in
a house formerly occupied by old Parson Smith--and very snug and
comfortable we are, I assure you.

In the midst of our "moving," after I had packed and stowed and lifted,
and been elbowed by all the sharp corners in the house, and had my hands