[No paragraph markings in the original; some added here for ease of reading. I deduced that this was written in 1865 because she mentions that tomorrow is the Sabbath, and May 27th fell on a Saturday in 1865.]Danvers Centre May 27th
My Dear Cousin Clara
I intended to answer your letter before now, but, considering how long you waited to write to me, I do not think you can complain of neglect. I have been quite busy during this week, today am having a little reprieve from study for which I am very grateful. We have just finished Rhetoric, and were examined yesterday. Dr. Kirk was present, but he is so pleasant, one could hardly feel afraid of him. Miss Pratt asked all the questions, it is a private school, you know, and the teachers have things pretty much their own way. Commencement is drawing near, the Graduates have to study very hard. They have long lessons in Butler's Analogy, and although most of the girls think Logic hard enough, those who have studied both say that it is ABC to Butler. They will soon be through, however, and then they can set themselves up for highly educated and accomplished young ladies.
A Miss Emily Pope delivered the Valedictory last year. The girls say she performed her part splendidly, and had two bouquets thrown her. She came into school the other day, was dressed very finely and did not look at all like any Pope's I ever saw before. I had a letter from Emily Fellows the day after I received yours. She says she could not ask for any one to like a school better than she likes at Andover.
There seems to be a kind of school mania among the girls; I saw Mary Walcott's mother in Boston a few weeks ago. She said that she came up to start Mary off to Meredith N.H. for a ten weeks term. Fanny is studying French, and reciting to Hattie Preston. Our little Fanny was made for a doll was not she?
It has been a pouring rainy afternnon, which disappointed me a little, for I was going to sow some garden seeds. Some of them however, Mother and I sowed this forenoon and I hope the rain will help them come up (I suppose I ought to say "germinate" to a young lady who is so deep in the science of Botany). If there is any thing in the world, which I particularly delight in, it is to watch flowers growing under my own cultivation.
Do you see the Atlantic Monthly? I saw a piece, in the last number I believe, called the prose Henriade, in which the author described the emotions of his heart on first beholding his own chickens. There is pleasure in chickens I know, but flowers are better in my opinion. I am reading the real Henriade in French to Mrs. Gannett; I forgot to tell you, that we are to analyze poetry now that we have finished Rhetoric, Miss Pratt said she thought she should select Tennyson. You asked if I should go another year - I suppose not. I should like to go very much indeed, but Mother thinks it is out of the question, and, all things considered I am of the same opinion.
Have you heard from Albert since you went back? I see him now and then in the cars, and we have quite nice chats. I thought he would be married this spring, but summer approaches, and "the deed is still undone" and likely to remain so for aught I see.
I should think they would hate to have it so long in contemplation; it always makes me think of Amos to speak of this. I miss him so much, and we all do now. Father especially; we took so much pleasure in our flowers last summer. I don't believe there are many young men, who care for flowers as he did, and I think it is always a sign of a pure heart. Do you remember that sentence in Rhetoric "I love God and little children" spoken of as very sublime? I think loving flowersshows something of the same purity[.]
At this season, everything is so bright and beautiful one can scarcely help thanking the Good Father for His wonderful works. Tomorrow is the Sabbath, and I hope it will clear off in night so that we can have a pleasant day. Mrs. Rice lent me the "Schonberg Cotta Family" and I have been reading it some time, but have not finished yet. I like it very much. I have got another book "Mason on Self Knowledge" which a gentleman, whom I meet in the cars lent me; it is called an excellent work and I must read it tomorrow I guess.
Last Sabbath I had such a toothache I could not do any thing. I went down to Dr. Bowdoin's and had a little front tooth filled, took cold in it, and had a provoking pain and puffed lip in consequence. It was soon over, though, and with the grand finale of a pig stye my cold departed. Those are my two great bodily evils, toothache and sore eyes.
Have you heard that Abbie Jacobs Thorndike's baby was dead, it died very suddenly of cholera infantum, within a week, I think.
You must excuse me for running from one thing to another, for you know I have to talk fast. I meant to begin my letter this afternoon but mother and Sarah had some sewing, which I could not get away from. The girls at school are very gay in their spring attire but Boston itself has grown hot and stifling and disagreeable[.]
I saw Willie French yesterday in the street, but he did not see me. I came near running over him one day, as I was coming down from the school house, and that time he turned back and bowed. I think he is an extremely bashful young gentleman, hope he will overcome it before he gets to be as old as James Braman[.]
Did you know that next Wednesday was Election? I am anticipating Election cake with a good deal of pleasure. Do you remember a walk, which you and I took over to Uncle Jasper's woods two years ago 'Lection day?
Strawberries will soon be here, they are only 75 cents a quart in B. now. I hope you will get home to eat fruit & enjoy yourself before long, and I know the time will go quickly enough. I want to tell you that I saw Sam Driver in Salem and he asked me about Laura and talked of her as naturally as if she were his sister or wife. How funny, isn't it. Of course you knew that Mrs. Pratt was very sick indeed. George was down today and said she was a little more comfortable. Sarah wants to go to bed and I must close[.]
Your own
Caddie
P.S. Excuse the numerous creases in this paper. I find Bert does not have his sheets fit his envelopes.
C.