South Hadley, Mass.
March 21 1883.
My Dear Father
I can't tell you how glad I was to get a letter from you again and hear you are getting better, I've been so worried about you, and to think you are able to be around is a cause of great gladness to me, although I know you are far from well. I'm so sorry the houseboys [?] have left you, I know how much you will have to attend to about the farm yourself when you have men hired.
To night is the first of vacation, we finished examintions at four oclock, and just when the girls were going off in high spirits at the prospect of having a jolly vacation with their friends your letter came and it made me feel as if you were not so far away from me. Yesterday and to day were public examinations. The girls did splendidly, my two examinations were Latin and English Literature. I experienced a queer sensation in my knees but was fortunate enough to be familiar with everything that was asked me.
I believe I told you before the school was going to be closed. I am going to board in the village with five other girls at a very pleasant place. Our crowd is a combination of various characters. Number 1, is a tall stately young lady who dresses somewhat after the style of "Oscar Wild," [sic] is of a very ancient and distinguished (?) family, moves in society with the Vanderbilts and does not notice ordinary mortals. She took my breath away yesterday by asking me to room with her, during vacation. Number 2 is a "real Child of Nature," pretty as a picture, simple and refreshing. She reminds me of the Spring violets that we gather down in the meadow. Number 3 is a representative from the "free nest," who apparently never had any limits to her actions and most probably never will. Number 4 is a lithe slender little creature with hair and eyes as black as a raven's wing. She has been in Europe since she was five years old and is as bright and attractive as she looks. Number 5 is a young lady, small of stature, but feeling the responsibility of her importance weighing heavily upon her. No. 6 is your daughter Gertrude.
Wednesday morning. We are settled in our new abode. The girls are talking and banging on the piano in a way that sounds very familiar.
I think of sowing [sic] all vacation but will do nothing but listen to girls reading unless I feel different than at present.
I had a pleasant letter from Edd [older brother] this morning. He says they have no vacation untill [sic] June, he is studying hard seems to be accomplishing what he desires.
I have a wild notion that if I could have a horseback ride I could sleep but from present appearances I think that is impossible. Everything is covered with [a] layer of solid ice, a cold wind is howling around the house and the longed for Summer time seems far away.
I am going to write to Allie Gant, I supposed she was getting entirely well. The girls have just come to announce this is the first dinner and I must come down.
Goodbye with much love - Gertrude
Ar'nt [sic] you going to send me any money for the chairs for Chapel?
"Fort Smith"
South Hadley.
Money came all right. Don't give up writing to me your letters are so much to me, I don't want you to stop writing.