20 West Fourth Street
Jamestown, N.Y.Dearest Nell,
Ever since Christmas morning I've longed for an opportunity to squeeze you. Your gift "went right to the spot". I should think you'd feel awfully puffed up to have had such a bright "idee". I gaze at it several times a day with love and longing. If one of the pictures could have been you a-straddle that log, - then it would have been perfect.
I hope these days are not too hard for you, dear. I can only say "Rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing."
How is your mother? A note from Mollie tells me that you saw her Christmas Eve. How did you find her? and do you like her man?
I'm furious with Mary. She wrote to me just after receiving that Family bird last August & certainly gave me to understand that she had sent it right on. I think such things are unpardonable. If the thing meets another snag, I'm going to propose that we try the ΣΘΔ plan. You know what it is don't you?
A letter from Abbie deals at length with embryonic plans for the summer. What ideas have you? What do you say to ending the summer together, instead of beginning? Perhaps we could get a better crowd right after Commencement but I'm out of that any way and rather lean toward an August "meet." At any rate let's "talk it over" from every point of view.
I wish our vacation was twice as long. I'm grudging every moment. I am busy because I've saved up so many things to do; for instance yesterday I put away Christmas things & "did room-work" and to-day I've been getting shoes &c. I've made at least one call every day and have still several I must make, to say nothing of at least a half day's study that is waiting for me.
Last evening Syd & I went to see a rising young actor named James Young in The Merchant of Venice. He made an excellent Shylock but his support was very ordinary.
I had a very happy Christmas with a whole tableful of lovely gifts. Martha Hall gave me a photograph of one of Correggio's Madonnas that she bought in Florence - think of that! Abbie's little "dirk" with the Holyoke call engraved upon it was another "allusion to references" that pleased me, also Gertrude Ellison's picture of the famous Elm Walk at Andover, dwelt upon at length in A Singular Life and along which we sauntered the day we took tea with Jane.
Did my gift to you survive the crowded mails? I'm always afraid of losing a little package like that.
I suppose you got a letter written some few weeks ago when I was "grouty." I'm quite amiable again, thank you.
Don't be forever in writing
Your dutiful room-mate
Lucy Fish Baker.Thursday, Dec. 30, 1897.