[Some paragraph breaks added for ease of reading.]The Women's Christian College,
Cathedral P.O., Madras, India,
January 10th, 1924.[added in pencil: "Miss Gault - Please return this one to Dorthy Elizabeth Williams 105 N. Spooner St. Madison, Wis" - evidently D. Elizabeth passed the letter around to Miss Gault, who passed it on to Abby who never returned it to D. Elizabeth.]
Dearest Kids,
Will you forgive me if I write to you together? The college whirl has begun again & vacation seems like a dream. Then before we've time to blink, exams will be on us again!
First, Dot, let me thank you for the sweet silk stockings you sent. How did you guess, I wonder, that I was just trying to squeeze my pocket-book enough to get me another pair to wear to Government House next week for the farewell reception for Their Excellencies. Nice stockings do not grow here so they are doubly appreciated.
And, Rufus dear, I've got six nice letters from you in front of me all received since I've written you anything & I'm so sad. You are such an old dear about writing & I want to hug you every time, but I never seem to write anything nowadays. Other Christmases I've written quite a bit because I sat up after the folks had gone to bed, but this year I had a roommate & we went to bed early!
My journeys this year weren't quite so thrilling as other years because of the acquisition by the Tura people of a second-hand Ford for making the journey to the river! It came on our steamer so we embarked as soon as possible after landing. But alack, alas! after spending three hours in going 3/4 of a mile thru sand, almost hub-deep, & thru great gulleys, we finally gave up, low-gear stripped, & hitched ourselves to a buffalo-cart, & walked to lighten the load! [smiley face]
Just at dusk we crossed one of the big rivers by a hand ferry, & a horse met us on the other side so Mr. & Mrs. Ewing went ahead with it. My cousin had gone before on horseback with one of the ladies. Then I perched over the axle of the buffalo cart while Mr. Phillips (a married man - don't be alarmed!) managed the breaks [sic] & steered & we jogged silently along in the moonlight. At 7.30 we came to a small village about three miles from the first bungalow, and there our cartman struck & refused to take us farther. Mr. Phillips disappeared in the distance, with the only lantern we possessed, to search for another cart, & left me in the strangest situation I've been in, I think - all bundled up in steamer-rugs (for it was very cold after the sun went down) perched spang [sic] in the middle of the 2-wheeled open buffalo-cart whose steeds were unhitched but lay sprawled at my feet. It was right in the heart of the village, & a crowd gathered at once, interest & curiosity divided between the "Memsahib" (me) and the car which stood in silent dignity behind. They stood and they stood, talking to each other in Hindustani or Bengali or Assamese in all of which languages I am helpless, & none of them knew any English. They looked weird enough anyway, standing silently in white swathings, but the moonlight intensified the weirdness until I fairly shook with merriment at the ludicrous-ness (-eity?) of the moment.
Anyhow, after an hour of sitting, another cart & yoke appeared & we started on again. This time the road let over a narrow turnpike where we kept meeting other carts loaded with cotton. One of them turned a complete somersault in trying to pass us. By this time I decided that my weight was a negligible quantity anyway, & was cozily curled in the back seat, happy but hungry - for 2 wee sandwiches were all we had eaten since 8.30 AM. We finally pulled in at the bungalow at 10.30 & found that my brick of a cousin had a hot dinner ready & our camp cots set up, while all the others slept peacefully!
Next morning there were four horses ready for us. The Ewings nobly volunteered to stay by the car & we four trotted off with the days' rations in my good old knapsack. That was one glorious ride, kids, 28 miles thru beautiful jungly country, climbing gradually but steadily, letting our horses set their own pace mostly. Mine was a darling, with a comfortable little trot that let you sit back in your saddle, and a whiz of a gallop. We reached Tura at 5.00 in the afternoon to Mother's great horror (horror that we should have done so much in one day! I'm afraid Mother will grow grayer than ever when she sees the stunts we do in Kodai!).
You may wonder where this cousin has dropped from. Well, I had never seen her before myself. She is Stella Ebersole, aged 29, from North Dakota; grown up on a huge farm and accustomed to a man's share of the hard work. She's now in the Methodist Mission in Burma. She proved to be very nice & very efficient. We made two dresses for mother while we were there (I had brought the material from Calcutta.) Don't laugh when I say we, for I really did a good share of it. You may not believe me but I have on a dress at this moment that I made all by my lone, not even a word of advice from anybody - and folks say it's rather pretty!
On Christmas Day a letter came to Mother from Mrs. West at the House written the day after Julia's wedding. Jay was married at the Home with Peggy as Maid of Honor & my big brother came from Montour Falls to give her away. We've not heard from her herself yet. They were going to Bermuda for the honey moon. She will be so happy to have a hitching place of her own. I always thot that she minded more than any of us not having a home. It must seem very heartless but you know perfectly well that I was very happy as a vagabond. Folks were so awfully good to me everywhere - especially your nice families. Your Mother sent me such a sweet little handkerchief & note, Ruth. I'm afraid I can't write to her this mail but I will soon.
A gorgeous pile of Christmas mail was waiting for me when I got back. A long annual from Peggy Moses was a joy. She seems to have settled down for a life-time in my old job; & awfully happy, isn't she? It was good to hear from Jerry Grout at Wellesley, too. She's a good scout. And Miriam Keeler, bless her heart, wrote me a rare speel about her trip with Ruth Gilbert in England & Scotland, & sent me two books that I was wanting much - Miss Warner's latest, "Groups & Couples," & a good History of the United States. Don't laugh - I really asked for that one when she wanted to know what I wanted. You see, I've not lost all my patriotism, even tho' I am a fiery internationalist. And I was simply tickled pink with Lord Charmwood's "Abraham Lincoln" from Helen Howell. I was wanting that ever so much. Margaret Willcox's wedding invitation was here. Won't she purr with happiness, wedded to a man instead of to chemistry? And Benine's announcement came some time ago. I'm glad I still have a few single friends left!
You've probably heard that my friend "Janet" is coming around this way in a few months. Or have you forgotten who she is? I'll bet Rufus hasn't! Remember our Sunday evening call, Rufus? [smiley face] I shall shriek with merriment when I am her hostess here!
Dot, will you share this with Ruth Addams [sic] when it comes around to you, please? I don't know whether Miss Turner would care about it or not. I've just written her a huge tome, but 'twas mostly raving & little news, as I'm apt to do, alas!
Heaps of love to you, kidlets, till 1926!
Eleanor.