Yorktown Heights, N.Y.
Sept. 26, 1897.My dear Susie,
Just at this season of the year I hardly know whether I am standing on my head or my feet, so deeply am I engaged in preparations for winter. I am always restless and almost unhappy for the two weeks before I leave home. You can hardly imagine how much I dread the going back to school, though I always enjoy the teaching and the school life after I am once thoroughly settled. I do hope the new teachers will all prove to be pleasant and sensible women. We depend so entirely on each others society that one or two cranks can do much toward spoiling the year for the rest of the teachers.
At the beginning of a year I always look ahead with fear and trembling and wonder how many or how great mistakes I shall make during the year. There is so much opportunity in a teacher's life for exercising the judgment and choosing between several courses of action, and the responsibility is so great that I tremble. If only I had perfect control of myself, but I am perfectly conscious that I am occasionally swayed by sudden feeling and once in a while yield to impulse without waiting for reason and common sense to speak. Of course everyone has more or less of the same experience.
Lately I have been obliged to stop my reading almost entirely. The last book which I read was "Anna Karenina" by Tolstoï, the only one of his which I ever read. I admired the book very much, but did not like many of the characters. If the book is a true picture of Russian society in the best circles, - as I suppose it is, - I certainly do not think much of the morals of the higher classes in Russia.
Last night Mr. and Mrs. Requa and Ed and Josie were here to supper, and we had a delightful visit. I wanted them to come very near the end of my vacation, so that I could have the pleasure of seeing my best friends after everybody else, on the same principle, I suppose, which prompts you to say goodby to the dearest member of the family last of all, when you go away. Uncle George and Aunt Hannah were here for a few hours today, and have just now left me. We shall ahve no more company until after I go. Tomorrow I must sew all day, Tuesday begin to pack, Wednesday finish packing, and Wednesday evening at a quarter of six I shall take the train for Carmel.
Did I write you that Miss Mary Ryder is planning to spend the winter in California? I shall miss her much, but one of her aunts will take her place in keeping home for Mr. Hillyer, and if it is the aunt whom I like so much I shall be satisfied. I shall still have their house for a little home when I get weary of the Seminary life. I don't know what I should do without the Ryders to pet me. I suppose petting isn't good for one, but it certainly is very pleasant after a few weeks of teaching.
This summer has been one of the quietest in some ways that I have known in years. There has been almost no society that I cared for, and you may have observed that there has been no tennis playing, and that young men have been absent. Truly, I have hardly seen a young man - of my own kind - this summer, but I have not felt any "aching void" or any lack of pleasure on that account.
Mr. Pringle has been teaching all summer, and will be here at Christmas time, but probably not before. I am hungry for a sight of my brother, but I suppose I shall have to wait until Christmas for that, too.
I am longing to see the new buildings at Mt. Holyoke, and especially to see your rooms. How the place must have changed! It hardly seems possible in so short a time.
The sophomore whom I know is Charlotte Hunt. I know her slightly, not at all well, but she is very well acquainted with some of my relatives who live in the same place and am much interested in her, so for that reason I am more interested in her than I otherwise should be, as I am personally so little acquainted with her.
Yours lovinly, [sic]
Gertrude.