“The leaders make it pay pretty well.  My friend Professor Bache makes the occasions the opportunities for working sundry little wheels, pulleys, and levers; the result of all which is that he gets his enormous appropriations of $400,000 out of Congress, every winter, for the maintenance of the United States Coast Survey.

“For a few days Science reigns supreme,—­we are feted and complimented to the top of our bent, and although complimenters and complimented must feel that it is only a sort of theatrical performance, for a few days and over, one does enjoy acting the part of greatness for a while!  I was tired after three days of it, and glad to take the cars and run away.

“The descent into a commoner was rather sudden.  I went alone to Boston, and when I reached out my free pass, the conductor read it through and handed it back, saying in a gruff voice, ’It’s worth nothing; a dollar and a quarter to Boston.’  Think what a downfall! the night before, and

  ’One blast upon my bugle horn
  Were worth a hundred men!’

Now one man alone was my dependence, and that man looked very much inclined to put me out of the car for attempting to pass a ticket that in his eyes was valueless.  Of course I took it quietly, and paid the money, merely remarking, ’You will pass a hundred persons on this road in a few days on these same tickets.’

“When I look back on the paper read at this meeting by Mr. J——­ in his uncouth manner, I think when a man is thoroughly in earnest, how careless he is of mere words!”

In 1849 Miss Mitchell was asked by the late Admiral Davis, who had just taken charge of the American Nautical Almanac, to act as computer for that work,—­a proposition to which she gladly assented, and for nineteen years she held that position in addition to her other duties.  This, of course, made a very desirable increase to her income, but not necessarily to her expenses.  The tables of the planet Venus were assigned to her.  In this year, too, she was employed by Professor Bache, of the United States Coast Survey, in the work of an astronomical party at Mount Independence, Maine.

“1853.  I was told that Miss Dix wished to see me, and I called upon her.  It was dusk, and I did not at once see her; her voice was low, not particularly sweet, but very gentle.  She told me that she had heard Professor Henry speak of me, and that Professor Henry was one of her best friends, the truest man she knew.  When the lights were brought in I looked at her.  She must be past fifty, she is rather small, dresses indifferently, has good features in general, but indifferent eyes.  She does not brighten up in countenance in conversing.  She is so successful that I suppose there must be a hidden fire somewhere, for heat is a motive power, and her cold manners could never move Legislatures.  I saw some outburst of fire when Mrs. Hale’s book was spoken of.  It seems Mrs. Hale wrote to her for permission to publish a notice of her, and was decidedly refused; another letter met with the same answer, yet she wrote a ‘Life’ which Miss Dix says is utterly false.