[Some paragraph marks added for ease of reading.]Lowell July 27th 1849
Dear Caroline
"Let byegones be byegones, - they foolishly say
And bid me be wise and forget them
But old recollections are active to-day
And I can do nought [sic] but regret them"I never fully understood the meaning of those words of Tupper until now. Can it be possible that I now address one, whom I knew during my dear father's lifetime? I cannot realize it, yet your dear little note lies before me upon the table. It is long since I have been able to recall, to my mind's eye, the image of Caroline Williams, but never has the casual sounding of her name ceased to send a thrill of pleasure to my heart. I have been thinking of those dear old days of our childhood and Oh! how vividly does each long forgotten scene stand out before me. The little old school-house where we were every day taught to spell ba-ker and all the loved play-grounds are before me. Twelve years must have changed our old home materially. It now is probably a large and thriving place. New houses now stand where the old ones once stood, and the faces of those whom we knew, will know us no more[.] How I should love to see you, but perhaps I should not be able to speak after all. Thoughts and questions would rise so thick and fast, that I could give no utterance to what I wished to say.
Is it not strange that, after all the changes in our lives, we should both have landed safely within the halls of Holyoke? It is four years since I have been at the seminary, yet it is just as dear to me as ever. The remembrance of the two years, that I spent, there, will ever form an oasis in my life. Not that I would compare my life to a desert, for I have had many happy days as well as sorrowful ones. Monday brings examination. How I should love to be with you, but as that cannot be, I shall be at Holyoke in spirit.
The examinations of our Lowell public scools have just finished and we close school to-morrow for which I shall be thankful for I am very weary. Oh! if my dear mother were living how happy she would be to hear from you. I am still happy however in the thought, that she is still with her children, and guards and watches them from her happy home. You have been more blest in the procession of a home, than we have. We have been dependent upon our own exertions wholly, but God has prospered us. He has indeed fulfilled his promise of being a father to the fatherless[.]
You did not write any thing about your sister I do not recollect her, but it seems to me that she is not far from Bell's age. Sister Addie and I have been trying to imagine how you look but we cannot come to any conclusion. Addie has not forgotten you as you wrote. Bell spoke of you as wishing to teach in New England. I wish that you may get a situation some where near us, and then I guess as the Yankees say (you see I do not call myself one yet) that we woul [sic] see each other face to face.
The clock just struck and I involuntarily started, with the impression that it was the retiring bell at Holyoke. I must close this as I am obliged to write to Bell before I retire so that it may go out in the first mail in the morning. Do write again soon will you not? I shall be so happy to hear from you. Hope you will have a pleasant examination.
With much love, your old school-mate
Mary