A Letter Written on Oct 15, 1905

Templeton, Mass.,
Oct. 15, 1905.

Dear Lucy:-

Hasn't this been just the loveliest day imaginable? Mabel Titterton asked me to go to ride this morning. Her horse is lame so she didn't want to trot her but she thought it would do her to [sic] good to be taken out a little way. (Isn't that a mixture of pronouns?) We went down the Hubbardston Road to the Partridgeville road and turned around and came home. Poor Daisy wanted to trot dreadfully and whenever we met a team she would stand on her hind legs & dance. It was just lovely out of doors. Mama and Uncle Isaac thought I had better take my golf-cape so as to be sure to be warm enough. I was uncomfortably warm with my jacket on and if we hadn't been most home should have taken it off. The woods are just lovely now and we rode slowly enough, so we could enjoy them. Mabel spent some of the time in telling me how good Elmer is. She said she didn't see why he was so good to her.

Last Sunday I had just a lovely time with Mr. Miles & Nellie. We didn't get any chestnuts worth calling by that name. It was about half past six when we got home so the last part of our walk was in the lovely moonlight. We walked down quietly but coming back Mr. Miles cut a stick for each of us so we fooled & had a great time. Mr. Miles has lots of fun in him when he is off like that.

Last Tuesday night I didn't have any studying that I needed to do (I did a little) so I had quite a holiday. I went down and got Delphine & took her out in her carriage. I wheeled her all over the common and then took her down here & picked her a bunch of flowers and took her home. She was just as good as could be. She got so she would talk considerable. The baby is looking better. I saw Edith & the baby taking a ride in an automobile this morning. I guess her uncle is here with his & took her up to the Braithwaite's. Edith wasn't looking about any. She was giving her whole attention to the baby. I had our automobile out yesterday & it behaved very well. I didn't get run away with & nothing broke. We can still smell it some. I washed out some ribbons & I have an idea that they didn't come out looking any too well.

Tues. night Grace Stanley took me over her new house. It is very pretty there and convenient. She has a dining room with a fire place in it, a good sized kitchen & a bed room & pantry & wood house in the new part. For the other family there is a kitchen, dining-room, sitting room, three or four bedrooms and a pantry upstairs and a wood house downstairs. The piazzas seem awfully high when you go out on them.

I have found out for certain sure that Arthur Willoughby has a little daughter, Gladys Ella, eight week[s] old. I have heard & feel pretty sure it is so that the Carpenters are going to move into Mrs. Batchelder's house. I think that they have not bought it. Clara Aiken is having to take care of two of Walter's sister's children - a girl twelve & one three. I don't know why they are there nor how long they are going to stay.

Rhetoricals are a thing of the past & I live to tell the story. I got along all right but was dreadfully frightened beforehand. When I got on the stage I didn't mind it a bit but I was shaking as hard as I could be. Poor Bent got up & shook so one could see it. He forgot his in the middle of his essay but he stood there until he thought of it. Beatrice Dickerman forgot hers & had to come down. Amber is quite well I think & is enjoying this fine weather. I send you some of my questions on Burke thinking that you may get some ideas. [no longer with the letter] But do have mercy on your pupils. Mama says to tell you that she would have written something but she really had nothing to write so she thought she had better not try. Poor Uncle had to go to church alone for I didn't get back from my ride in time.

With love,
Molly. X X X X X X X X