Templeton, Mass.,
Nov. 19, 1902.Dear Lucy:-
Your very short and extremely undignified letter reached me at the usual time. No doubt your lack of news was due to your inablity [sic] to think and reason in the proper course
anon account of your brain being addled from the undignified positions yourplaced yourself in at the gym. I suppose in another year you will be a veritable Samson.It seems to me you take an unnecessary number of walks. Are there any young men who are gunning in the vicinity. Please be careful that your gaudy plumage isn't mistaken for some gay tropical bird.
Mrs. Harry Beals has at last died, and I am afraid nobody is sorry. She died from running cancers. The oder [sic] from her body was terrible so they say. Well, as circumstances were prehaps [sic] it is better she died as she did.
Sunday Mama I and Andrew drove over to the wood-lot in Hubbardston. It is a very pretty drive and quite a long one, too. We take the road that goes past the Bennet place. Mr. Bennet has a good many cows and calves. Somewhere about seventy-five. They make quite a display. A good many Dutch-belted ones. Holstiens [sic] and Jerseys. Further on we saw about fifteen sheep. They were very wooly. And there [sic] tails were very fat.
Mr. Fargo who lives over there in what they call the old school-house and takes care of the horses we visited first. His stove was polished to the last degree, his floor swept, his bed made and everything a model of neatness. I tell you he's a very model house-keeper, I can assure you. Then we went down to the stable and visited the horses and finally into the woods, where we visited the steam-mill and walked around and saw where they were chopping and where they had chopped. It seems to-day all of those bigs [sic] trees should be cut down. And, o, the may-flowers. I guess when spring comes the woods will be carpeted with there [sic] blossoms.
Monday I was on the go all the time. It [sic] the morning I carried a load of apples down to East Templeton where I met the milk-cart. Papa and I exchanged carts and I brought the milk-wagon home. I supposed I should have the after-noon to myself. but, no, when Papa came back he wanted me to go to Gardner on some business for him. So away I went again. And I reached home at about five o'clock in the afternoon.
We have got a driving horse from Henry Glasheen. He is a calico horse and a fine roader. We are to have him for his board.
I do not know whether I shall be at the Union or not. But shall see you sometime Wednesday.
I thought I should have more time to write but papa is going with the cart and I
whatwant this letter to go this morning So [sic] I will close for to-day.Your Sincere Friend.
Edie.