Dearest Nell,Is it wicked to stay at home from Church because your head is tired and then sit down comfortably by the fire and write letters? However, I did study my Sunday School lesson first and that's better than the improvising I often do. We Episcopalians don't use extempore prayer but I for one am prone to use an extempore lesson for my Bible class.
I am reminded of the remark in that "thoughtograph" of the last Mount Holyoke relative to girls' going to bed Sunday night weary with the day's excitement. How dared she write (whoever it was) so true a statement! What hilarious times we often had Sunday but how careful we were of acknowledging them as anything more than "restful fellowship" even to ourselves! Certainly Mt Holyoke Sundays are (or at least were) as unique in their way as Chautauqua Sundays.
That starts me off on another tangent. Mattie was in t'other evening and we decided it would be great fun for all concerned if you & Edith Walton could come to-gether to G- some time. You could keep each other company all the way from Boston and help each other through the first experience with sleepers! When will you come? Martha goes east Christmas week to stay about two weeks at Amherst & S.H. I hope you'll see her.
Has anything more turned up about Bertha Mellish? What a terrible thing it is.
How is your mother? How long can you be at home Christmas? We have only one skimpy week & Christmas Eve and I am pining for a vacation. Things have dragged lately & I've felt dull & stupid. If one could have just a few less things to do so as to have time & energy for outside things others could keep wide-awake & alive, I shouldn't envy anybody. Sometime such a blissful condition may come.
Last week I dissipated to extent of seeing Shore Acres which I've longed to see ever since the days of Heliotrope Inn when Dr. Lowell acted the whole thing for us. How good it is.
Now did you know I wrote up our Berkshire trip? I flattered myself that there were no mannerisms in it.
Mary's letter almost killed me. I wickedly longed for some one to laugh over it with me. How exactly like her it was! I couldn't help giving her a small-sized dig in my letter. Tell me if it seems too sassy for such a semi-public document.
I hope the days aren't too dark and dreary, dear. I'd like to write more - even a scratch of the times you asked for as an incentive to the Christmas spirit, but I must hie me to Sunday School Be very good to yourself.
Your loving Lucy.
December 12, 1897.