BLACKWELL FAMILY ALICE STONE BLACKWELL               KITTY BARRY      1870Office of
The Woman's Journal,
No 3 Tremont Place
Noon, Boston, Jan. 1870

Dear Kitty, 
Today I am  to have my 
teeth filled, my two
upper front teeth, right 
between which is a little 
decay. It is to be filled 
when I have had my dinner,  and I am here in Boston for
the purpose.  My anticipations
are unpleasant, 
very unpleasant, as they
say it will be probably take
a full hour.  Ugh! Guggs
1 o'clock.  I have had dinner. I await
the filling.  They are discussing
what dentist to choose.
3 o'clock I have been to the
creature, and he has wedged 
a mass of lint, or somestuff into between my teeth 
to force them apart, which 
I must keep there for several 
days. till he can fill them. 
It is very unpleasant indeed 
to have it there, it 
feels so uncomfortable. The 
painters and plasters etc. 
are still in our house, pounding 
and hammering and bothering 
us. My head aches nearly 
all the time nowadays, and 
I feel greatly delighted when 
it stops for a few minutes. 
I don't know what to do to stop it. 
They have stopped all my lessons 
but Geography, Arithmetic, 
and gymnastics, and talk 
of stopping those. I begged hard 
to keep on with my drawing, 
but they would not let me. 
However, I keep on drawing 
things which I see, in a private 

drawing book, and I 
suppose that will teach 
me something. The greater 
part of our house is still 
in an uncivilized state, 
but is getting a little more 
fixed. I go in to school on 
the cars, and come back 
on the twelve o'clock Train 
so that I have the afternoon 
do about what I please in. 
There are a great any apple 
trees on our ground, some 
of them very nice and easy 
to climb, and my favorite 
one has a most exceedingly 
comfortable place to sit 
among the boughs, from 
which I can look over the 
bay, and see the ships. Once 
I saw a big ocean steamer 
outside the bar, perhaps a 
Cunarder. The people wholived in house before us had thirteen hens," an the one that goes with them," as Mike said, a rooster, and we have bought them. They are now my property and I read with interest the "Poultry," articles in news papers and books I paid half the price of them, and the rest was a present. I feed them, and take care of them. This is rather a helter skelter letter, as I do not want it to wait over Sunday, and so am finishing it, though I feel very shaky on account of having cried so much over my tooth, and having just finished the said howl, you must excuse it I don't think you write once a week. Love to Aunt Elizabeth. Goodbye. 
Alice S. Blackwell.Feb. 13th
My dear Robert,
Aunt Emily's babies
 are well again, or nearly 
so. I dreamed last night 
that she and Aunt Elizabeth 
were both dead, and 
felt very much distressed 
thereat. We have in our 
garden a whole nest of 
young rabbits. Mike discovered 
them in a hole burrowed by 
the parents. We have seen the 
said parents hopping about 
before, but did not know 
of the babies till a day or two 
ago. Edie and I have rabbits 
on the brain, especially Edie. 
There are seven of them; a black
and white, three brown and white,
 a gray and white and two 
pure whites. The chief bone 

something about him written in the beginning. I am 
sorry you 
have 
lost 
poor little 
Paul, for 
though 
I regarded 
him with 
great 
suspicion 
as a rival 
in your 
affections, 
I know 
you must[*miss him. I do not think Papa will go to San Domingo after all. I rather hope he won't. If you were her you*]

of contention is the black one, which is very pretty and uncommonly brisk and lively. I expect Edie will get it. The unlucky little creatures are hauled out once or twice every day to be inspected and admired, and then put back into the burrow. Papa thinks of going to San Domingo again, but I don't want him to. I am afraid he will get drowned, and going as he would have to it would be only a hardship. The going I mean; not the drowning. Of course that would be a very great hardship. He meditated making a will before going, if he went, and demanded that I should promise to have my property settled on myself when I marry.
I asked if he would not make an exception in your case, but he said he could not trust you as a man of business. I made the exception though, in spite of him. You know it might be highly inconvenient to have to stay bothering about settlements in case we elope in a very great hurry.
I believe Uncle G. has serious intentions of settling in Europe. It does seem as if he whole family were going over there. I am disgusted, and also in fear that you may come to prefer that side the world likewise; though it is only doing you justice to say that everyone reports you asimmovably faithful to your 
country and your Betrothed. 

It seems an everlastingly 
long time since I had a letter 
from you; but I am painfully 
conscious that I have 
no right to complain, living 
as I do in such a very brittle glass 
house. 

We have received a 
lot of flower seeds from Mr. 
Vick in return for an advertisement, 
and, Edith and 
I expect a great deal of pleasure 
in raising them next summer. 
I think I luxuriate in 
the thought of the flower seeds 
most, and Edie most in 
the thought of the rabbits. 

We have begun reading 
"Middlemarch" aloud in 
the evening. I shouldn't 
think that was in danger 

[* would not have to wish for really Wintery weather. Yesterday *]

of giving anyone too high 
an idea of the feminine 
mind. Dorothea thus far is 
a sentimental donkey, 
and Cecilia a goose; but 
to be sure the men are 
quite as bad or worse. I 
should like to dig my nails 
into that Mr. Casaubon. 

I hope Aunt Elizabeth 
is quite well again 
now. If the London fog 
equals your description it 
is enough to make anyone 
sick. Do you know, I rather 
wish it might seriously 
disagree with you, so that 
Aunt Elizabeth would have 
to send you home. However, 
since you are likely to come 
any way next summer, 
perhaps I shall be reconciled 
to your being in good

[* and last night it snowed furiously, and sleeted, and 
this morning Edith and I ploughed our way to school *]health till then. 
There is absolutely
no more news that I can 
think of except about.
the anti-Woman's Rights 
hearing before the Legislature 
in which that person 
Miss Lane did Mamma the
honor to compare her to 
Mrs. Woodhull.  Mrs. W. was 
lately suppressed, but has 
got loose and come out 
strong again in the character 
of martyr.  I doubt 
if anything short of a 
muzzle and straight jacket 
would suppress her effectually. 
But if there is anything 
that makes me 
furious it is to hear people 
abuse Mamma.  Mr. Fulton 
(the Reverend Believe or be 
D--d) has apologised, and 

actually made friendly 
advances to Mama, after
all his remarks about 
loudvoiced and brazen 
faced etc. which made 
me so awfully savage some 
time since.
Feb. 7th.  This letter was left 
in my Philosophy and 
not finished. I have since 
got yours of January 
and likewise the important 
private document sent to
F. and by her to me. She has 
agreed, and considers it
 jolly, and I quite agree with 
her on both points.  But 
pray, are the stories to be 
long or short, tragic, comic 
or sentimental? I am profoundly 
in the dark as 
regards all that. Write and 
tell me.  I shall not send
[*through soggy drifts. I will try to send you 
another letter soon, so you may wait in hopes. 
Edith and I anticipated feeding the baby rabbits from*]back the before mentioned 
P.D. in this letter, for fear 
of overloading postage, but 
you may expect it by the 
next. I am disturbed in 
my mind about your 
Christmas book. It was mailed 
on the day before the letter which 
reached you at Christmas - 
the 10th Dec. I think- by Papa. 
He inquired at the P.O. what 
the price would be, and was 
told 6 cents. The book has 
gone accordingly, and undoubtedly 
the P.O. told Papa a lie. 
It should have reached you 
ages ago. Hunt it up; and 
if you cannot find it, or the 
P.O. won't give it to you, 
I'll send you another. It was 
"Two College Friends" by F. W. 
Loring, was duly directed, and 
had, I believe, Captain Kidd or 
a bottle or other contrivance this P.M. This is written 
in school. Goodbye. Alice.April 15. [*1870*]
No 6 Burwood Place
Hyde Park, NY.

Deary Kittychen
In answer to your letter
just received, you may be sure dear, that
I shall fall in with any practical
arrangements for your journey, that Miss
Marian and the others think best; and
if you feel sure that you can turn up
all safe in Burwood Place, you shall
follow out your own plan; a first class
passage in a little Cunarder; and a second
class ticket from Liverpool to London
will I think be the best. You shall choose
your own time to join me; for though I
should be very glad to have you with me now,
I shall be delighted that you should help
Miss Marian settle her new abode first -
and, as you cannot be with me in the
present crisis of house moving, when your
helpfulness would have been exceedingly
acceptable, a little farther delay will
be of no consequence. I shall furnish
just as little as I can, now, both because
I am short of cash, and because I shall
like to wait and consult your taste
as far as I can. Let Mother particularly
understand that the arrangement I am
now making, in no way binds onetake the trouble to examine the things
and advise me about them. Every
little helps you know in housekeeping.
    I should like you to put my old United
States dispensatory into one of your trunks,
it will be of use to me, and I dont think
the girls have injured it more than to
tear the cover off - also an ice pitcher
such as ours at the Infirmary; and
the annual report of the Board of Health
for Harris did not send a second copy,
as I supposed. You might keep a little
list of the things I ask for in each letter & 
so gradually collect them. I am so
disappointed, that you have not got rid of
the roaring in your ears - that must be
so very tormenting, that it seemed to me
to be the most important thing of all to get
cured; so if Dr Rosen has done his best without
success, it removes my last hesitation
about your joining me, because we will see
what Europe can afford in the way of relief.
Tell Mrs Lucy from me, how very sorry I
am for her loss of Annie - it is very sad that
so deep an interest should be so suddenly
and unexpectedly taken away. Tell
Mrs Harry also, that any thing addressed to
"Miss Lydia Becker, Manchester," willto England - because, while the new arrangement makes me
so very much more comfortable and respectable while I am
here. I have chosen such an exceedingly convenient and
rentable little house, that I can at any time let it to
excellent advantage, if I want to leave it; and I know
of no safer and better investment for money than just what
I am now making, even if I were settled in New York.
This is a positive fact, which I want Mother to realize -
and it gives me a little homestead from which I can look after
Anna for a while, which I think is quite necessary. I
In another fortnight, I hope to be entirely settled, and
then I mean to do two things. 1st send out a quantity of
cards & call on a great many doctors, 2nd give a party
to about 40 people, so that they may realize my stability
and whereabouts. About my things - I should like all
the remaining cases sent on by one of {Criswell?] & [Mintury?]
ships with as little delay as possible. If Pam would
kindly manage this I should be very much obliged to him.
If no one claims the old piano, I should like to have it
for I have an affection for it. I think £5 would cover
all expenses of bringing it here; and I think it would
be worth paying that; for it will be some time before
I can afford to buy a good new piano, and I would much
rather have our's than none.
About my furniture that
remains in the infirmary; if Emily feels that it would be
just [?] to pay something for it, as we have used it jointly
so long, I should be glad - but I dont want to trouble
her in any way about it - I suppose it would not bring
much as second hand furniture; but if it would
bring enough to buy a couple of easy chairs for my parlor
why I should be very glad. Ask Miss Ellen if she willOFFICE OF
The Woman's Journal,
No. 3 Tremont Place
Boston, Sunday, April 23, 1870
Dear Kitty
I am in the Womans Journal 
office, waiting for Mama to 
come from church.  I have
been having lessons again,
but Mama means to stop
them a second time, on
account of my head.  Papa
is down in New Jersey,
trying to rent the West
Bloomfield house, and when
he comes back he will bring
Nelly Hooper and perhaps
Aunt Ellen, for a visit.
A few cherry trees are in
bloom now, and we have 
peonies, blue and white myrtle
and English violets in flower
in our garden, but the cro[cusses]

[* throwing cold water.  I have to take sedlity *]cusses are gone now.  We are
all but certain of having
Florence spend her vacation
with us, and I and looking
forward to it with much
delight.  How do your eyes
and ears get along?  Your 
letters are not so regular as
they used to be, and I hear
you are becoming faithless.
If so, beware!  For I own a
small telescope of my own, 
and from the top of the
house the view is clear to
England.  So look out, and
quench the young English
gentleman as quickly as
possible, when he presents
himself.  I had two girls out
to see me yesterday; Alice
Erle, whom I told you about
before, and a young lady
of twenty one, who is about
my height, and comes from
powders quite often, and oat meal at a penny

western New York -- the back
woods as she calls it.  Her name
is Lucy Tracy.  Arrah na
Pogue, an Irish play, is being
acted here, and I hope to
persuade Mama to let me
go and see it tomorrow
night.  I want to dreadfully
for I understand they have
beautiful scenery.  One of my
shoulders is certainly higher than 
the other, and Mama thinks
of asking Aunt Emily's advice
about shingling my hair,
dressing me as a boy, and
sending me to the military
school, to straighten me.
One of my front teeth has
the enamel broken, and I
am greatly afraid it won't
last.  But Mama is going 
to take me with her when
she goes to New Jersey in
May, and Dr. Davis is to
a plateful, wherefore [pity?] your unfortunate betrothed.be consulted about my teeth.
I am in hopes of spending a
few days with Floy while I am
down there.  She is a very 
bad correspondent indeed as
far as I am concerned.
I have had a brood of ten
young chickens hatched; dear
little downy things, and they
are safely cooped.  Emma
has gone home, and is to 
teach school in Chester this
Summer.  I am hungry; I 
want my dinner; and I
have nothing more to say
but this;  If you dont 
quench that aspiring young
rival of mine, I will come
and do it myself, after Mrs.
Gummidge's fashion - by
Goodbye  Alice

P.S.  One of my hens has
laid a huge egg, which is
nearly seven inches around
and plump right around
the long way.  We have had
several like it, and they 
each had two yolks in them.
We have been having real
April weather here lately;
rain, hail, and sunshine
alternately, five minutes of
each, and so on all day.
Goodbye.  Alice.July 24, 1870. West Brookefield.
Dear Kitty
Phebe spilt Muriatic acid over
her dress and it burnt holes
in it. We have found another
very pretty place by the
brook which we call the Grotto.
The floor is a lot of stones among
which the brook runs the walls
are trees and a stone wall,
and the roof is branches. Some
of the trees are black birch
and the stones are nice seats
so we go there very often.
I rode over to Ware with Mama
and Phebe, and got "The Chaklets
of Pearls" from the library. I
like it exceedingly, though I
believe Mama is afraid it is 
too sensationy. Aunt Martha
and Grandma Woodard areback again. I have made
up the great sum of money,
and am the possesor of $16
dollars. July 27. 
Florence is a VERY
bad correspondent, but I 
suppose it is partly owing
to the hot weather. We
like Billy very much, only
that he is rather impatient
to start, which Pap thinks
has been taught him to
make him seem smart
and lively. I have been
kicked by a cow. I was not
much hurt, but her foot
was wet and dirty, and my
clean dress had to be washed.
I have been trying to make
beer out of sweet fern, black
birch and wintergreens but
though I got a lot of material
and it smelt beautiful

while boiling, like the essence
of black birch, yet it tastes
like mullein tea. Papa says
it wont when it is fermented
and it now stands on the 
window sill fermenting. I 
hope you will have a 
good voyage, a nice room
mate, no sea sickness,
and soon come back.
Goodbye, Alice.
P. S. This letter was written
at different times. Aunt
Emily is here.OFFICE OF
The Woman's Journal,
No. 3 TREMONT PLACE,
Boston, Sept. 24th 1870
Dear Kitty
Many happy returns of your
birthday! You twenty third,
is it not? I have been quite
sick, not with any special disease,
but biliusness, a cold, and
feverishness. I was in bed about
a fortnight. I got well enough
to go in the carriage to Gardner,
coming home by uncle Franks, and
being gone several days, but was
taken sick again one night after
getting home. I am much better
now. We came to Boston yesterday,
having spent the whole
Summer at West Brookfield.
Address all your letters to 3 Tremont
Place Boston, and they will come
right. The baby has not arrivedyet, but is expected any time.
My composition has been printed
in Our Young Folks, with
my name at the bottom, looking
so funny! In the same mail
with the magazine came a letter
from Miss Andrews congratulating 
me. I acted like wild, and 
made sundry diabolical noises, to
express my delight. I mean to
send you the magazine and let
you see it. On my birthday I
got four books, namely, Alices
Day in Wonderland, Anecdotes
of Animal life, Picture Natural
History, and Clever Dogs, Horses, &c.
I have begun making Christmas
presents, as I dont want to be
hurried about them this year. 
I have made a pair of uristlets
for Aunt Marian, one for
Miss Andrews, one for Edie, and
one for Florences birthday. We
have not very roomy quarters

here, one room and a cupboard. I also
have the run of the staircases,
the office and back office, and two
parlors belonging to the club. I believe
Papa and Mama are out or busy
a good deal, so I prowl about
the house, read newspapers, and
scribble. We are staying here till
we can get either a nice boarding
place or a house near Boston
where Papa and Mama can attend
to the Womans Journal. Address
here, for the letters will be sent
us where ever we are. There is
a bathroom here and I had a
good bath all over this morning.
I am sorry you were so sick 
going over, but hope you will
have a good time now you are
there. Have you made any
acquaintances in England yet?
Papa has been ransacking the
papers for advertisements of houses
and homes, and having cutout five thousand more or less
posted them onto a piece of
paper, and he and mama are
about to sally forth on a voyage
of discovery. Please write to
me often, and beware of young
Englishmen. Goodbye. Alice.

Dec. 20. 1870
Dear Betrothed
Yesterday Papa bought a house
in Harrison Square which is
a town two or three miles
from Boston. It is a large,
pleasant house, with a great
deal of fruit, and a beautiful
view of the sea, the bay,
and the hills. It has a good
deal of ground, and so many
urvigs and our buildings running
back, that we call it
the rope walk. It stands on
top of a hill which slopes
down to the water, and has 
a clump of evergreens with
a seat under them; also a
summer house. We can
move in on the first of January
which I am to be a schoolmaster; the other, called
the Rough
Diamond, here
in which I
am to be
a country
cousin, Jo
by name.
Goodbye, Your
Betrothed. P. S.
I am happy to
here that you are
not going to deserve
the rope, for it
could be painful
to myI dont think Papa likes the house
very well, but Mama and I
do, and he likes the situation
very much. The last time we
visited it the people had
been cooking onions, or doing
something that made a very
disagreable smell, and I think 
it affected Papa's idea of the
house. I am going to spend
Christmas at Uncle Sams, and
have got most of my presents 
ready. I have bought a nice
workbox for Aunt Nettie, the
watch for Florence, the Water
Babies for Edie, a pair of cuffs
for Gracie, a picture book for
Agnes, and a rattle
for the new baby. A book for
Uncle Sam, a letter case for
Aunt Emily, a picture of
ferns on birch bark for
Aunt Ellen, a pair of cuffs

feelings to be obliged to hang you. Alice.


for Mama, a book for Papa,
and a pair of cuffs for
Aunt Marian. I send you
and Aunt Elizabeth Merry 
Christmas and Happy New 
Year, and wish I could
send each of you a present.
It is very cold here, but
I can hardly realize its being
so near Christmas day, as
there is no snow on the
ground. We have had one
or two little snow sprinklings,
and one pretty thick storm,
but none of it stayed; all
melted when they touched
the ground. We have not
sold Billy, and I suppose
we shall keep him at Harrison
Square to drive into the 
city when we come to school.
I am afraid they will not 
let me take Purr away fromRoseville to our new home,
though I want to very much.
I suppose we shall have
a nice Christmas tree at
Somerville, as there are plenty
of cedars on the mountain.
Papa and Mama will go to
Roseville to see about moveing
the furniture, and will take
me to Uncle Sams. I am
very anxious to see the
new baby. I wish they would
hurry up and name it.
I cant think what to give 
Uncle George for his Christmas
present. It will be a 
book I suppose; but what
sort of a book is more than
I can tell. It is rather
inconvenient to have male
relations. I am engaged to
act in two plays; one called Love
in '16, with Miss Andrews; in
[?] 1870 - Boston   Jan 2 1891 [?]

Dear Betrothed
I have an immense room here
with three windows and a
double closet, all to my
self. Miss Andrews is very
pretty, but her sister, Miss 
Emily, I do not like so well.
You would be in love if
you were here, for there
are eight volumes of old
ballads, most of them
scotch I believe, besides
other volumes of ballads
which are not in sets,
Ms. Andrews is very fond
of them, and recites them
to us, piecemeal. You have
not written me a single
letter yet, and I dont meanto send you another one
untill you answer this.
I hope that Pur and little
pussy are all well.  Give
my love to Grandma.
Have you heard from aunt
Elizabeth yet, or got any
further in "The Bloody
Murder, or Who was Guilty,
"than you had when
I left you?  Our cat here
is very handsome, 
white, with a black and gray
head and back and tail.
They have had her a long
time, but do not seem
to like her much.  She
has no teeth, being old,
and her meat has to 
be cut up for her.
One evening Belle Rogers,
the two day scholars, and
myself, found out our

fortunes.  We did it by geting 
some pieces of lead, and
each melting some in a
spoon.  When melted we
poured it into cold water
and carefully examined
the shapes it took.  From
these we told our husbands
trades.  We tried twice, and
I have a choice between a
dentist and a wood cutter.
The first time I got teeth
and a vessel to spit the
blood into; also instruments,
I believe.  The second time
trees, moss, and an axe.  Belle
is to marry either a doctor
or a sexton, having got bones,
skulls, and instruments; among
the bones ribs were conspicuous.  
I think you will
never be a dentist, so you
had better commese chopping.wood. If you dont like 
that track I think I shall
be obliged to disappoint fate
Have you copied that piece
on eggs? If so, please
send it to me. Goodly,
From your betrothed, Alice
Stone Blackwell.