But I remember that Beecher once acknowledged to a reporter that he never knew what he had said in his sermon until he looked at the resume in Monday's paper.
During the hard days of Beecher's trial a lady who was a guest at the house told me she was waked one morning by the merry laughter of Beecher's little grandchildren and peeping into their room found Mr.
Beecher having a jolly frolic with them.

He was trying to get them dressed; his efforts were most comical, putting on their garments wrong side out or buttoning in front when they were intended to fasten in the back, and "funny Grandpa" enjoying it all quite as sincerely as these little ones.

A pretty picture.
Saxe (John Godfrey) called during one recess hour.

The crowds of girls passing back and forth interested him, as they seemed to care less for eating than for wreathing their arms round each other, with a good deal of kissing, and "deary," "perfectly lovely," etc.

He described his impressions in two words: "Unconscious rehearsing." Once he handed me a poem he had just dashed off written with pencil, "To my Saxon Blonde." I was surprised and somewhat flattered, regarding it as a complimentary impromptu.