A Letter Written on Mar 17, 1900

Dear old Nell,

Was there ever before so cold a March? It's hovered around zero all day and I've hovered around the fire except for a sally to the corner grocery and another to the Avon Club. And so for a wonder I've my Saturday evening before me free from mending and Sunday School lesson. I have glad[l]y withdrawn from the stove to the desk and if it doesn't become too much like living beneath the Arctic circle I will write you a few pages to answer your very prompt and good letter.

No, not "two bricks", Nell, but a good brick. There, isn't that a neat turn?

I am glad you and my Freshman have hunted each other up, for in many ways she's a dear and I wanted you to see some thing of my products except the colossus and the prig at South Hadley. Yes, she has lots of fidgety, nervous ways but they're always worse when she's embarrassed. Ask her to take a tramp with you when the fine Spring days come. She would enjoy it in our own way and is eager to get acquainted with the country. I'll be grateful, I assure you.

Seriously I sometimes am inclined to fancy that in spite of the close companionship of four years we never really understood each other, tho' I for one supposed we did. You're always saying things in your letters that amaze me. In the first place I remember how astonished we were to find each other a trifle more sentimental that [sic] either had thought. And then - well, various things. And lastly your very queer way of announcing your places for next year. I am half disposed to be downright angry but then I reflect that we are always mis-interpreting each other's letters and so I merely ask what in the name of our whole "married life" gave you just grounds for asserting that I "always made fun of you openly & otherwise"? 'Pon my word of honor I never did except in the chaffing we always indulged in at each other's expense. I didn't dream you were harboring such a thought about me & my facile, much-exercised tongue and I feel sort o' indignant and puzzled. Now I will speak my mind. You thought from the first that it was fun to call me an "encyclopaedia" to laugh at my indubitable fondness for long words & resonant phrases and to pose as being intellectually my inferior and you grew so enamored with your little drama that it was hopeless for me to try to act any other rôle than the one you imposed upon me. You fairly revelled in making me out a perfect fiend and yourself a regular flunker. It was all rot as every one knew. You were every whit as clever as I and in many ways cleverer but the friction pleased you and after many futile efforts to make you drop it, I gave up. You did everything well, you know you did and you must know I thought you did & yet you accuse me of howling over your plan for Chicago. I could shake you with gusto. Are you posing or joking or didn't we ever understand each other, in spite of our utter lack of friction?

Of course I think it's splendid that you should expect to have a year of graduate-work. Go, by all means. I only wish I could go with you. What good times we'd have! Do you want a letter of introduction to Nora Switzer? But since I can't go and am afraid I never can, I am delighted that something will bring you this way. Don't change your plans. In the first place a bit of western life will be broadening to your New England-ism, secondly improved equipment always pays, if not in salary (tho' it usually does there) at any rate in your own satisfaction & comfort & thirdly I am pining to show you the Lake & to have a good old-time talk, such as last we had that moonlight evening in Lanesborough.

I've got it all planned out for you. You can take the boat from Fall River and then get a through ticket via the Erie with a Chautauqua stopover. Then when you go back in the spring perhaps we can arrange it to meet in Buffalo & go on to South Hadley together for I've set my heart on going to the class re-union & mean to work it some way.

Please write soon. When is your spring vacation? Aren't you crazy for Spring? Martha Hall expects to be in Amherst all the spring. Hope you'll see her. I haven't for months, I am sorry to say. She lives so far away & there are so many things to do.

Good Night.

Lovingly yours
L. F. B.

508 East Second Street
Jamestown, New York
Saturday, March 17, 1900