BLACKWELL FAMILY Kitty Barry Apr. - Oct. 1882 ALICE STONE BLACKWELLDorchester, Mass. April 16, 1882 My dear Kitty: Ada Watson is spending a week or two with us. She got tired & run down by her hard work at the hospital, & was granted a holiday. She tells the most amazing stories of the carryings on of the young doctors, stealing pies & doughnuts out of the pantry, and carousing up in their rooms in the small hours of the morning, borrowing the soup-ladle to ladle punch with & her scissors to open cans of lobster, & howling college songs in a manner "perfectly awful." Mamma and Papa are pretty well, though Papa's not otherwise engaged. By the way, Lizzie Hooker has been longing for years to go back to England & if you really wanted her to come & be your assistant housekeeper, I dare say she would jump at them chance.[*Mrs. Hooper [f] is feeble tho ; & L. might feel that she ought not to leave her. I wrote to Aunt Emily about "sleep" & she has sent back very full & satisfactory answers. I felt mean to trouble here when she is so busy, but feared I might not hear from Aunt B. in time.*] stomach is apt to turn into a vinegar factory ( as he expresses it) during the night. During the last week we have been making soap, and thereby hangs a tale. I came home from the city one afternoon, & was greeted by Maggie with the pleasing intelligence that Mr. Kilian's Johnny had pulled [out] up the plug of one of the stationary washtubs in which the new-made soap had been put to harden, & the soap had gone down into the pipe & hardened there, stopping the escape of the waste water, & promising us abundant trouble and a long plumbers' bill before things could be set right. Mr. K's eldest boy is a quiet well-behaved lad who never meddles with things, while Johnny has his fingers in everything, But, Johnny is considered the smarter, & he is petted & Tommy rather put down. This time, however, his horrified father gave him a sound thrashing proportioned rather to the harm done than to the harm meant, which was none; for he had no idea the trouble he was going to make. Well, I told Maggie not to say anything to Mamma till after supper, because misfortunes always seen so much worse when you hear them on an empty stomach. So when Mamma came home from Boston laden with bundles & what not& was going about the kitchen with her bonnet on, inquiring about the supper, Maggie & I hovered round her & tried to keep her attention occupied, on thorns lest she should ask after the soap or march out into the washroom to look at it; & we were not easy in our minds till she was fairly seated at the table. It is a great nuisance. We found on investigation that the soap had gone down & filled the trap & flowed on into the waste-pipe; & how the washing is to be done tomorrow I don't exactly see. It is a ridiculous disaster, but a very annoying one. Emma seems to be growing more neighborly with Mrs. Wm. Brown. Mrs. B's nieces from Wellesley were there for their Easter vacation, & Emma went over to call on them; taking Laurie & a crochet pattern as aids to conversation. Mrs. B. & I have established a sort of link of fancy work. She showed me a pretty edge that one of her nieces made & afterward brought over a red flannel jacket trimmed with the same, to show me, and we have quite a little bit of neighborliness. She does not cling quite so close to home & Dr. Brown as she did. Perhaps since he has so much time now to spend at home he is ceasing to be the precious novelty that he was. Miss Mary Emerson immediately absorbed Laurie. She took him into the hall & played peep & hide with him & seemed to enjoy him very much. He kissed all [*I like Aunt Emily ever so much. She is always very good to me. It is a pity about poor Dr. Mosher. I hope she is much better by this time. Accept my hearty congratulations as to Sully; I'm sincerely glad you have got him. Henry IV was a*]around with enthusiasm when he came away. I had a letter from Florence this morning. She thinks she will be married about the first of July. xx Yesterday Nannie & Neenie brought Howard & Laurie each a sugar egg for Easter - pink for Howard & yellow for Laurie; they were very hard, & as big as bantam's eggs, so they served a good purpose in keeping both children quiet & happy while they sucked them a long time. I bought a white hyacinth for Easter. It is a beautiful one, & both little boys have enjoyed it very much. Laurie will stand under it with upturned nose "for the smell to come down", or ask to be held up to touch his little pug to the topmost flower, & Howard admires & sniffs with at least 25 cents' worth of satisfaction. Our grass seed is in, blackberries & raspberries set out & sweet peas planted. xx The reading circle flourishes. It is pleasant to meet one's neighbor's in that way. First you talk a little & compare works, & then you read, & then talk a little more, & then read again, & one gets a feeling of being acquainted." This is from a letter of Emma's to Aunt Sarah, which Aunt Sarah sent to Mamma. It is dated April 10. so you [*scalawag,, but he undoubtedly had his good points & fought in a good cause. I don't approve of him, but I can put up with your liking him. Sorry your spring is so nasty; ours has been very harsh & trying. Remember us to G. & Aunt B. My eyes*]may find the news stale, but I have a general idea that the Orange people are not to be trusted to write regularly to the transatlantic part of the family, & so I put it in at a venture. Miss Wilde & Mrs. Vogt are spending the day with us. They are sitting on the piazza step (south end) sunning themselves, & I can hear the murmur of their voices at intervals. They are both tired, & there seem to be lots of tired people. The sight of the girls' faces at the Y.W. C. A. has stirred me up to an active sympathy with your project of a summer boarding [place] house for seamstresses, doctors &c on M.V. When we make our fortunes we will establish one, & get Cadge to come & help, if she is [*are bothering, & I have looked off the paper a good deal while writing, which accounts for higgledipigglediness. Affy, A. S. Blackwell.*] Cliff House, Chilmark M.V. Mass. Aug. 9, 1882. to Aug. 13. (Use discretion as to what parts to read aloud!) Dear Kitty: - Last Sunday's letter was such a mere scrawl that next week's ought to be two letters in one. First, then, as to Uncle G. & Co. We found Emma looking remarkably well, & feeling accordingly. Martha's Vineyard air agrees with her, and she cordially admires the view. Howard was brown & happy, & Laurie a picture of beauty, health & good-humor. Uncle G., Aunt Ellen says, has seemed rather restless & indifferent - which is now supposed to have been the premonitory symptom of the boil. He & Emma strolled over to the cliff with Papa & me, the evening of our arrival, to make the most of the few hours we should have together. Emma said she had adopted the "American costume" as a matter of necessity; but it wasn't a Bloomer, only an untrimmed flannel skirt, perhaps 6 inches shorter than an [*application for a divorce. --- Enough for now. Your letter of congratulation was duly received & enjoyed by the young couple. And who*]ordinary dress. She looked well in it, too. Poor Uncle G. was already in an uncomfortable state, & could only sit on one side of his sitting-place. Papa exerted his utmost eloquence to induce Uncle G. to stay over till Monday, but in vain. Last time, he was laid up eight weeks; & that would have taken all the rest of his vacation, & given Emma no chance to see her mother. So they went by the early stage Saturday morning, after being up most of the night packing. Their departure was very sudden; I believe "the beast," as Emma calls it, only showed itself as a boil on Friday morning. She writes from Gardner that they are treating it with [?] carbolic acid & laudanum, "& hope to check its progress. If it goes on as it has begun it will be a large sore. I think it was best that we came. G. has here easy chairs & a sofa downstairs, & a large room upstairs shaded by great [deletion, illegible] elm trees that keep it cool. We are provided with sticking plaster [*else do you suppose has sent congratulations? Washburne! He has written to Uncle Sam, asking him to convey his heartiest felicitations*] & cerate, & shall do what we can to make life easy to him." She adds a postscript the next day to say "I hope we shall [be o] succeed in arresting the boil as that it shall be a moderate one. The carbolic seems to be useful tho' the creature may be only pausing for a little, before proceeding on its course." Papa, though disappointed in not having Uncle G. to roam the island with, made the most of his time. He got a carriage, & took Aunt E. & me [on][the ferry] + Susie to Gayhead, stopping for a call on Florence by the way. Her little house is very neat & nice. We got there rather early & found her in her "cooking dress." She uttered an exclamation & took refuge in the china closet. I shut the door on her, made Papa sit down on the piazza & chat with Elliot, & myself confabbed with Flo while she hastily put on a dress she considered more presentable. I'm not sure [*to "the Mayhews." He says that he is well, & his sister's picture hangs over his bed.*]whether her flight into china closet took place on this day or the one following; about the same thing happened both times. She & Elliot received us cordially, & exhibited their little establishment with innocent pride. Before the exhibition of the interior, the bed had to be made & things put straight a little, & in virtue of confidential cousinship I was allowed to help about this, while the men folks entertained one another outside. (Full description of Flo's new home later. You many have had [it] one, but I find it is never safe to count on your having been told things by some of the rest- even very obvious things.) We lunched at Gayhead, & Papa's talent for lemonade making enabled him to compound [of] a very good drink in our one tin pail , though he had only a pencil to stir it with. The Head was temporarily infested with a party of 200 [tourists] excursionists from Oak Bluffs, who had come up on the Monohasset. They drifted away in course of time, however , & Papa & I went around the end of the Head & had a fine bath. [*We laughed over G's throwing her slippers upstairs. It was a bright idea, &*] We went in successively, as we had [*2*] to use the same bathing dress. The sea was like soda-water, & Papa [go] got behind a rock & made a breastwork of it, & butted the waves as they came, & then looked round, dripping & beaming, upon me, standing on the beach watching & enjoying his pleasure. On the way home, Papa was determined to visit Lobsterville. Flo was going over there that afternoon, but the place itself was what Papa wanted, to see. Aunt Emily had said that Nantasket reminded her of Lobsterville, & as N. is a popular seaside resort, he expected to find L. something quite fine. We took the wrong road & had a time getting to it - up & down sandhills, through bars & gates, into an Indian woman's door-yard, &c &c. Finally we came through a region of desolate sandhills overgrown with poison ivy to a row of miserable little board fishing huts, along a flat beach & a group of seedy looking men loafing before a tiny shabby grocery. Papa cast [* ought to bring Floy luck. G. will be the only sister who has one of the wedding flowers, I guess I found the whole bunch thrown aside, & *]one look of disappointment & unutterable disgust upon the scene, then turned the carriage & departed, quite forgetting to ask if they could sell us any fish. On our way back we encountered the Mayhew carriage, with Father Mayhew, Floy, & Clara, whom F. introduced as "my sister." She looked very pale. When we had exchanged a few friendly remarks & passed on, Papa said that extreme constipation, combined with great indigestion & disease of the kidneys & liver, might account for such a complexion; but nothing short of it could. The poor girl has lately had a miscarriage, & so has Marcy Mayhew, Arthur's wife. Luckily there is no possibility of any such thing with Floy as yet. Next morning being Sunday, Papa & I walked along the beach, shoes in hand, to Floy's, & took the funny excursion I told you about last week. As Floy & I sat in the sandy ravine which runs up between the hills by Honeybee Swamp, a forked ravine something like Giant's Cradle, only deeper, we had a comfortable confab, & F. told me all sorts of things- some of which I should not have felt justified in asking her, but was very glad to know about when she told me them of her own accord. It seems her [*so took possession. The custom of treasuring & scrambling for the bride's*] with each other. He says she is a nice woman- a woman with a great deal of character. Elliott harnessed up, & he & Flo drove us part way home through a heavy fog. They sat on the front seat & spooned visibly. Next morning a little after 5 I saw the stage approaching & told Papa, who invoked his Satanic Majesty, & hastened his preparations. He had not finished dressing, much less breakfasted. The stage waited while he bolted two cups of coffee (the second without sugar); & I saw it go bumping away with him over the downs. His hot breakfast of ham & eggs had been hastily done up in paper, & he took it with him. Aug. 12. This letter is being written "line upon line"- a little one day & a little another. Since Papa went, things have gone quietly. Aunt Emily is still in Boston, & hasn't fixed her day for coming down. The children play croquet & rampage about; Aunt Ellen sketches, & superintends the house; Maggie & Miss Emerson do the work; I read, write, cook a little, or stroll to the cliff in the morning, & generally walk over to Floy's for an afternoon call. Edith + Ethel arrived a few days ago, to pay F. a visit of some weeks. The next day after their arrival, Ethelwas swooped off over here, where she is to stay a week, to the great delight of the fry. They bathe together, & read together, & play innumerable games of croquet together, & make night hideous with giggling after they have gone to bed. I find that the unpleasantness between Clara & Mercy Mayhew was such that about three weeks ago Mercy went back to her home in Tisbury, refusing to return till Clara should have gone, & half refusing to come till her husband should have [fin] finished a little addendum to the family house, where she could have her separate house-keeping. Clara goes day after tomorrow, which is a blessing. Flo says the morals of the island are awful - that there are some three dozen illegitimate children in Chilmark alone, & almost every one of the old sea captains living around among the hills has two or three. There are some good people, though - Miss Jemima & her brother are all right, & Mrs. Vincent & some of her children, & the Tilton girls & their husbands. Mrs. Stuart has always borne a good character, but Hilliard Mayhew is one of the worst men on the island, & his daughters take after him. Moses West is another case. Knowing about all this has spoiled a good deal of my pleasure in the island, & when Capt. West hailed me yesterday on my way across the downs to Floy's, & held me in conversation for some twenty minutes, wasn't I glad there was a stone wall between us! My flesh crawled as it was; & it isn't pleasant to have to be continually crawling. Aunt Lottie has been lamenting to Floy that she did not marry Washburn - a silly & shameful thing to do, after her marriage to Elliott was done & couldn't be helped, even if Elliott hadn't been worth a dozen Washburns. However, there was no harm done, for it only made F. very wroth. She also subjected F. to an ingenious cross-questioning to find out whether she was, as F. expressed it, "in an interesting situation." But F. has no intention of being that yet awhile. She says she married Elliott in the dark as to his views on the subject of children &c, & took her chance. She had prepared a little speech for him, to the effect that as she perhaps knew more about physiology than he did, he might do well to let himself be advised by her as to times & seasons &c; but she never had any need to deliver it, for he told her of his own accord, at the outset, that she would never have any trouble with him about those things, but should regulate them herself entirely. It seems that he & his brother have been brought up in the belief that the control of such matters is the wife's prerogative--which is fortunate for [*roses does not obtain in Somerville, it seems. This is Mamma's*]Florence & Marcy. From what F. says, I judge that Marcy doesn't amount to much, but is good what there is of her. Elliott denies in toto that Clara was ever in prison. F. says she has a bad temper & is not particularly conscientious- thinks she would be capable of telling a fib on occasion, but not of stealing. Clara gets along very well with F.- perhaps because they do not live in the same house- but has already made some unpleasantness between Mother Mayhew & poor little Marcy, on the ground, of course, that Marcy doesn't do work enough. The fact is, neither Florence nor Marcy can do the amount of work which Mrs. Mayhew Senior has done all her life, & which she considers proper. They have neither the strength nor the habit of toil. And I suppose the deficiencies of the daughter in law who lives in the same house with her are the most visible. Mother Mayhew came in Sunday afternoon while Papa & I were there, & Papa went out into the kitchen to talk to her, out of policy, thinking it would be for F.'s advantage to have her relatives [seem] be as friendly & sociable as possible; & he & Mrs. Mayhew had a long conversation, & were quite taken [*birthday, & I must write to her. Goodbye, my dear. Affy, A.S. Blackwell. [*5*] mantel holds also a family [photograph] picture or two (daren't spell that word beginning with Daguerr), & bright colored birthday & Xmas cards help decorate. The effect is pretty. The books are on shelves in the parlor closet. I have had to make both it & the closet in F's chamber jut right out, in the plan; but they don't so much in the house. The two bed-rooms have matting on the floors- white matting in the spare room, & very neat variegated matting on F's. Her bed-room furniture is dark, & the looking glass is not very high, but goes the whole width of the bureau. The bureau-mats are edged with blue, & on the little mantel are more bright cards- one at least a former present from Washburn. On the inside closet-door hangs a wonderful shoe-bag, with lots & lots of pockets- a present from Emma. I have not set down washstands & chairs in the plan; you must put them in from imagination. The furniture in the spare room is light-colored, + both bed-rooms are small. The hall floor is painted green, which somehow reminds me of a ship. The balustrade of the stairs was pointed out to me as a particular work of art, & it is pretty, but I don't think I can describe it. In it black - walnut is contrasted with some other-colored wood. The second floor is all one large garret, unfurnished, but sunny & cheerful. The windows up there are generally kept open. Outside the house is painted pearl-color, with blue shutters. It looks very clean & new & shiny. From thepiazza you have a beautiful view across Quitsy pond. The three dots on the piazza represent three large mineralogical specimens, lumps of iron ore &c; & the two dots, two little flower-pots containing a pink oxalis & a geranium. A tiny fuchsia stood with them, but the kitten made a plaything of it & damaged it, & Flo took it into the kitchen for safety. On the shelf over the sink is another little pot with a small cactus in it. The two doors leading on to the piazza are glass- that is, two long glass panels in the upper half. The hall door is ground glass, the kitchen door clear & equal to an extra window. From the back door of the kitchen a board walk, about three yards long I should think, maybe a little more, leads to an outhouse , about as large as the ordinary Vineyard peathouse, but squarer. This holds miscellaneous articles, & has the privy in the corner I have marked black. The door is opposite the privy door; I should have located the outhouse a little farther to the left. The basement of the outhouse is the chicken-house. The cellar-door [?] is beside the back door. The cellar is rather small, but very dry, with a sandy bottom. Elliott is going to have a sort of wire safe in it, with a current of air passing through, to keep meat &c in. Several barrels of shavings &c, relics of house-building, stand in the cellar. [Wh] Near where I have put an O is a cemented [cellar] cistern, a pipe from which leads up to the kitchen pump. When we looked into it, the cistern was almost as dry as the cellar. It is a very dry season. The kitten is white with spots, & is very playful & a great pet with F. They named it Jemima, but it proved to be a little Tom, & is now called Jim. It weighs 2lbs. F weights 101 1/2, & Elliott 171. The whole household was weighed the other day. I'm glad Elliott has begun to recover flesh. He worked too hard in building the house, & went down from 190 to 165. Papa, having inspected the establishment, thought Elliott had done remarkably well with $950, & got a great deal for his money, or else put in a great deal of work himself. He really made the ground on which the house stands, building it up by carting sand. There is to be a flower garden next year, but now the ground about the house is sandy & weedy. F. has bespoken all our empty tomato cans for flower-pots. You wanted details, & you have had them with a vengeance. Let me see, is there anything else? The stove is an "Octagon". Flo has several papers - the N.Y. Tribune, Woman's Journal, & Harper's Magazine & seems to me I saw a copy of [the] some Methodist Journal lying around. I'll take an observation of the books some day, & give you a list of the chief ones. The door-steps are great slabs of granite. 3 slabs in front & two [behind] at the back door.[*Aug. 13*] Elliott looks the picture of health, but F. says he really is not very well. His sleep is uneasy, & he wakes in the morning feeling limp. He says he has never felt so before. We think he will get over it in the course of time; he worked too hard last year. He has petitioned for saleratus bread- doesn't like the other. So F. is going to follow Clara's example, who habitually makes one kind for herself & the other for her husband. The other day when I dropped in, I found F. alone, & seeming rather out of humor. She informed me she was going to apply for a divorce. I asked her what Elliott had done. At first she wouldn't tell me, but finally plumped out with it. He had kicked the clothes off! I lay back & shrieked. He tumbles about a great deal in his sleep & disturbs F., & she hasn't had the heart to wake him, knowing how tired he is. On the occasion in question, he had spread himself over her side of the bed, & crowded her to the very edge. She began to poke[ing] him, to make him retire to his own territory. Half walking up, & supposing that he had pulled the clothes off (that being his most frequent offence) he began to heap the clothes on to her, & she got to giggling, & the more she giggled, the more he piled the clothes on. But it is his habit of working his feet out at the bottom of the bed on which she proposes to found her Dorchester, Mass. Sept. 10, 1882. My dear Kitty:- Yours of Aug. 27 at hand. As you say in that, "The usual Sunday work goes on & writing letters." As for Grace's dislike to church-going, I have a good deal of sympathy with it if they intone the service, or indeed if they don't, that English service is so long & so full of "vain repetitions." The idea of repeating the Lord's Prayer four times in morning service! And the Athanasian creed! I used often to go to the Episcopal church before my trip to England, but got so disgusted with the intoning & all the nonsense over there that I have only been two or three times since [*most extraordinary way. It seems as if Grace, being so good a sailor, might come home without an escort if*]my return. I go regularly to the Unitarian church, on principle, but am generally bored & get dreadfully tired of sitting still. All sorts of cricks come in one's back & legs, & I am so glad when it is over! Don't you let yourself be Anglicized, Kitty! Stay an American. You were born & bred here, & I hope you will always think of the U.S. as home. Live under a monarchy as long as circumstances make it desirable, but don't fail to remain a republican! Aunt B. is an aristocrat by nature, I think; then she was born in England, & raised among English traditions. She is an Englishwoman, and it is natural that she should like her own country. But she ought to see that it is equally natural [*she felt willing to. If she doesn't, though, that alerts the whole case, & I am glad you propose to follow her desire in*] for you, being an American, to like your own country. Papa & Mamma left early Monday morning, en route for Nebraska via Madison. Emma & Uncle G. & Laurie arrived Wednesday, & were very welcome. I had enough of solitude, though, being in town all day & going to bed early, I had not had much chance to feel it oppressive except at suppertime. Aunt Sarah arrived with Howard a few days later, & Nellie Hooper a few days after her - i.e. yesterday - & Miss Wilde is coming out this afternoon, to stay permanently; so there is little danger of my being lonesome any more. We have had several cards from Papa & Mamma, written on the journey. Their engine broke [*the matter. What a lot of care + trouble Aunt B. has taken about the poor young one- would that it had*]down, & they had various delays but Papa reports Mamma rosy & jolly, & seeming to thrive on hardships. After they left Niagara, where the Marquis of Lorne & the Princess Louise has been stopping, Papa secured a place in the sleeping car by confiding to a colored waiter that he & Mamma were the Marquis of Lorne + Princess Louise. He says the way that colored brother showed the whites of his eyes was amazing; & they were accommodated in a jiffy. Wasn't that just like Papa? Very bright, but highly unprincipled. I have been in the city daily, feeding the printers & reading proof &c. Sorry you wont get the first paper of my editing, but something went wrong in the press-room & in consequence we were seventy-five short, & [*been with more satisfactory results! But it seems that those in the nature of the case, were not to be looked for.*] all our foreign & a dozen or two of our native subscribers will fail to get their papers this week. It was in no way my fault, but I am sorry it should have happened while I was to the fore. I carry Papa's black leather bag & feel immense. At least, I felt immense the first day or two. I have felt too busy since to leave much room for any other feelings. Every day there is a heap of letters to be read & answered or attended to, besides the continual "feeding" of the printers. When I thought I had given them about enough for the outside, the foreman suddenly came upon me with the announcement that he needed two columns more! Mrs. Livermore's edi- [*Goodbye Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell*]-torial came in in the nick of time & enabled me to appease his voracity. H'm! I don't wonder you were shocked by learning how Garibaldi came by Mme. Anita. Mamma cast him utterly out of her good graces on reading the account in a paper. I myself thought it was probably a slander. But if you like Henry IV in spite of his vices- I suppose he seduced dozens of married women- why not Garibaldi? It suggests the scriptural gnat & camel. For me, I am disposed to shew both out of my mouth. Emma & family seem pretty well, & amiable as usual. I think Uncle G. grows nicer with age. I have discovered, with some surprise, that he really does think about some things besides eating! Now, don't read that to G. & Aunt B. Things come around to people's ears in the 1 OFFICE OF American Woman Suffrage Association, No. 3 PARK STREET. [Boston] Dorchester, Mass. Oct 2 1892 My dear Floy:- Papa & I got home yesterday from our Western trip, and found your letter of Sept. 28 waiting. It was the first I had heard of Aunt Ellen's girl having left; it must be very hard for her + Aunt Eliza to do their own work, & I should think they would begin to want to flit. Why did Lizzie leave? The work must have been comparatively easy after there were only two left in the family.There are piles of books about the house, in the garret & elsewhere, and no doubt I can find some to add to the Gay Head Library if they start one. I am glad Miss Ticknor has become interested; it would be a very good thing to have a library there. Grace has written to me, too. I found her letter here when I got home. It is a touching letter. Mamma read it aloud to me, & she choked up & could hardly finish it. Poor child, it is very hard for her. But I hope she won't become a Spiritualist; it seems [*2*] OFFICE OF American Woman Suffrage Association No. 3 PARK STREET. Boston, 188 to be an unwholesome belief, & often turns people half daft when they go into it to any great extent. Yet one inclines to it when anybody one loves very much has died. I remember how Emma took me around to séance after séance, after her little sister Anna had died, trying to get a message from her. Mother has had the greatest lot of company while we were away- Mary Robinson, Maria Burlow + her cousin Miss Crowell, Edith,& mother's old friend Mary Ann Blair, & her daughter Edith left the very morning we arrived, before we got home; which was a great shame. If she doesn't come over again soon, I shall go over to the hospital to see her. I'm not going to have a cousin within a mile or two & get no good of her! And I always liked Edith- that is, always since we have been grown up. I hated her when we were children. Mother says she has improved very much, & Uncle Sam said the same. I'm glad she is going to be so near us; & I [*3*] OFFICE OF American Woman Suffrage Association, No. 3 PARK STREET. Boston, 188 hope her work at the hospital will not keep her so closely cooped up that she cannot come over here for Sunday afternoons &c. I wish I could have seen Maria Barlow, so as to pump her & send Kitty all the news about her, & how she was looking, &c. I should have liked to get a photo of her for Kitty. It is odd, when we have comparatively so little company, that so many should have come just when Papa & I were not here to help entertain them. The lasttwo guests went away yesterday, so Mamma is going to write to Aunt Ellen that she is ready for her & Aunt Eliza now any time. I am sorry about your headaches. Do they come at any particular time of the month? Am glad you are not tempted to doctor yourself for them with patent medicines; but if they should keep on & get worse, you must come up & see Dr. Smith or somebody. Some unknown miscreant has cut off our black cat's whiskers, & we are indignant. However, I suppose they will grow again. [*4*] OFFICE OF American Woman Suffrage Association, No. 3 Park Street. Boston, 188 Speaking of black cats, we held a meeting at All Souls' Church in Minneapolis one evening while we were there, & a black cat attended the meeting, & came up on to the platform, & walked up & down the aisles, & got into the people's laps, trying one lap after another, & prowled off into the Sunday school rooms, & yowled softly, & diverted people's minds from what we were saying. They told us afterwards that that cat attends all the evening meetingsof that church. She was a pretty creature, graceful & silky, with bright eyes; but I guess they wish she was less piously- inclined. We had a good time in Minneapolis. It is the most beautiful city I ever saw, with long, wide, straight streets, almost all of them bordered with rows of trees, and the houses stand detached from each other, & surrounded with green lawns + trees. Papa also fell in love with a Methodist minister, to my great amusement & considerable satisfaction. For the minister is an old college class-mate of [*5*] OFFICE OF American Woman Suffrage Association, No. 3 PARK STREET. Boston, 188 mine, whom I had not seen for eleven years. I don't know whether you ever met Fred Holman? He has become a D.D., & is really a power in Minneapolis. He is at the head of the principle M.E. Church in that part of the country, & has a big congregation, three fourths of them men, & largely young men; & they have started a Methodist hospital, & a training school for deaconesses, & a mission school, & lots of good things. We arrived Sunday morning, & went tohear him preach, for old acquaintance's sake. He preached a fine sermon- I thought so myself- but Papa was perfectly captivated. He said it was the finest sermon he had heard for years- "a glorious sermon"; & we went again in the evening, & again Papa was delighted. I didn't care much for the evening sermon, but Papa was exceedingly pleased; & Dr. Holman said he had pledged their church to contribute $50 toward another M.E. church, which was struggling, & that he wanted half a dozen of his people to come up after service & give him $5 apiece toward [*6*] OFFICE OF American Woman Suffrage Association, No. 3 PARK STREET. Boston, 188 it; & Papa made me go up afterwards & give him $5. for it. I wanted him to do it himself instead, as it was his idea; but he insisted that it would be more appropriate for me, as an old school mate; & he forced the $5 upon me & dragged me up & made me give it, though I felt like a sneak to take the credit of his generosity. After the evening service there was a class- meeting, or something of the kind; & Papa said to me, "Let's go": so we went; & the next dayPapa went & called on Dr. Holman in his study at the church, to say goodbye and they talked theology, & politics, & Papa was more delighted than ever; and he made Mr. Holman come over to dinner the last day we were there (we were staying with parishioners of his), and has raved about him ever since. Says if he lived in Minneapolis he should go to Dr. H's church. It isn't that he agrees with the doctrines, but that he is taken with the sincerity & eloquence & intense earnestness of the man - who really has something captivating about him, & the more [*7*] Office of American Woman Suffrage Association No. 3 Park Street Boton, 188 so because when he is out of the pulpit he is full of fun. Papa said to me at Minneapolis, "I am a godless infidel- thank the Lord!" and never saw what a funny thing he had said till I pointed it out to him. But nothing has seemed to produce such a really religious impression upon him for years as Dr. Holman's preaching. I was very glad to find an old friend doing so much good & working so hard. My fear is that he will wearhimself out & work himself to death [try] trying to get people to be good. Yet, after all, how could he die better? The House- Keeper's Weekly does not pay me anything for that article, but offers to send 300 copies to use, or to any addresses I will give them; so I am going to make out a list. I did not expect them to pay anything; it is all right. Mother is so averse to blowing her own trumpet that her friends must do it for her. When I got home I found that she had hidden away that copy of the Housekeeper's Weekely under a number of other papers, feeling rather mortified about it, [*8*] OFFICE OF American Woman Suffrage Association, No. 3 PARK STREET Boston, 188 and as if it were in bad taste to parade her [big] biography in that way! We had a wise time in Minneapolis. We stayed at about the most beautiful house I ever was in in my life. Think of windows consisting of a single pane of plate glass 12 feet by 6! The people were just as kind & simple & friendly as if they were not so rich! They are Methodists. The money came from the husband's father, but he left it to his daughter- in-law in trust for thechildren, because his son sometimes drinks. It did not appear till the last [of] day of our stay, & then he had been drinking so much that his wife was not willing to have him come down to supper. He wanted to, & I came upon then disputing about it in the upper hall. She insisted upon his staying away from supper, & we left without seeing him; but after we reached the R.R. station he appeared, not so tipsy but that he could steer himself, and quite determined to say goodbye to Papa. They took to Papa very much, & laughed like everything at his jokes, & thanked Dr. Ripley for [*9*] OFFICE OF American Woman Suffrage Association, NO. 3 PARK STREET, Boston, 188 sending us there. One day at dinner the young son of the family, a boy of 17, broke out & said "Oh, Mr. Blackwell, I do like you, you make everything so funny!" They have three beautiful horses, including a fine pair of black ones, & sent us driving all about the city to see the sights. One of these is the Falls of Minnehaha, a very beautiful waterfall. And Papa fell so much in love with Minneapolis thathe even enters with spirit into the funny feud that Minneapolis has with St. Paul, & he runs down St. Paul on all occasions. The two cities are mortally jealous of each other; but Minneapolis really is much the prettiest & the most progressive. Miss Anthony was at Des Moines & made herself very friendly, taking pains to speak often of Mamma & of Aunt Nettie, in her addresses at the convention, & laying stress upon the fact that Aunt Nettie was the first woman minister. I must [*scurry off to church. Mamma has made an appointment for me to speak at Brockton on Oct. 11, so I shall have to come down a few days later than I had intended; but I am coming. Your aff. cousin, Alice Stone Blackwell.*] Dorchester, Mass. Oct. 15, 1882 My dear Kitty:- I had a card the other day from Aunt Nettie, who has been attending the Woman's Congress at Portland, saying that she should be here Sunday night, on her way to M.V., where she is going to pay Florence a visit of a few days. Instructions were accordingly given to have the carriage meet her. Last night, about 10.15, after I had gone to bed, & was stupidly lying awake (having got to thinking about the paper) I heard wheels, which presently departed; & skipping downstairs, after a [*remember to. You stop catching colds, or I'll come over there and spank you. This is an unconscionably long letter, but it may serve to make up for some of the short ones you*]minutes listening over the banisters, I appeared in my nightgown to mee Aunt Nettie. She had arrived a day before she had expected to. Of course we couldn't talk much that night; but this morning I Have pumped her. She says Uncle Sam does not seem to be any worse in health since he took his present situation. Some weeks, when he has had more outside work, he is tireder than others, & so she tries to ward off outside work & worry as far as possible. A week or two ago, he was looking particularly bright and fresh. Last week he was a little tired. He takes his breakfast at a restaurant, & his dinner & supper at a place right over the office, not a public eating house [*have been having lately. Yrs affectionately, A.S. Blackwell*] exactly, but a place where the gentlemen who do business in that block take their dinners. It is kept by a nice colored woman who is an excellent cook, & is very convenient. Then after supper, if he feels like it, he can go out for a walk on the Battery, or a little sail. He likes the situation. The office is very pleasant, sunny & airy, handsomely furnished, with everything "ample" - a comfortable big desk, plenty of room &c. - and he has the pleasantest window in the room, a good light, & looks right out over the water. Also he likes the gentlemen in the office (all young men except himself & the head of the concern) and finds them affable & pleasant. Aunt Nettiesays she never was better. They are trying to plan some arrangement by which Uncle Sam & Edith may keep house together during the winter, in N.Y., & have a kerosene stove, & what not. Edith is not going to continue sleeping in Orange after the cold stormy weather comes on, as it will not be convenient to go in and out. Uncle S. & Aunt N. are trying to exchange part of their Somerville property for something in N.Y., that the whole family may move into the city. It seems a pity for the children, but if Agnes should take drawing lessons at the Cooper Institute, as Aunt Emily wishes, she & Edith would have to be in the city anyway; & it would be very [bad] much easier for Uncle Sam. It is hard to snatch a hasty breakfast & rush off for your train; & he also finds that he sometimes is half through some long calculation at night when it comes train-time-- a calculation which, if he leaves it [then, he] will have to begin all over again in the morning, but which he could finish up for good if he did not have to leave just on the minute. Aunt Nettie thinks Uncle G. & Dr. Brown don't sufficiently consider these points, when they urge her & Uncle S. to locate in Orange. And she thinks they won't do that, anyway. She says Edith is morbidly distressed about her inability to talk--which is not a real inability, for shetalked very nicely to me down at M.V., when we were alone - & fears it may prevent her success as a doctor. But she wants to be one. Agnes at present rather scouts the idea of becoming an artist. She wants to be an elocutionist, but Uncle [G] Sam thinks it [would[ would be degrading to make it your business to go about the world repeating other people's ideas. She has a gift for elocution - has one piece which she recited to us among the wedding festivities, & greatly impressed Papa. It really was very remarkable. And her fine eyes aided the effect. She has given this piece several times at local entertainments, with great applause. And just as Aunt Nettie was leaving, Agnes rushed into the station, to inform her that they wanted her to give it at Flemington, and had sent to ask her her terms! Aunt Nettie wouldn't let her do it; thinks she is too young, & it would interrupt her studies. But I call that quite a compliment for a girl of fifteen. Aunt N. says she had not meant to take many plants into the house this winter, because there was no one to take care of them but herself, & she had enough other work; but when she found Grace was coming home, she took in all the usual number of plants. We think of little G. as tossing on the briny deep, & hope she isn't sick. I have warned Aunt N. to talk of the home-coming as Aunt B's decision, as your last letter suggested. Aunt N.says Floy has written her postal cards chiefly since Aunt Emily left, & that what she writes has been cheerful, & shown that she is enjoying the new life on the whole. She has got a new cat; with which she is much pleased, except that it will scratch the sofa. She felt a little lone- some when Aunt Ey went, & she was left alone. She seems to feel especially the need of some discreet older woman to fall back upon if any emergency should arise. She says Mrs. Stuart [is as] is too old, & Miss Jemima either too fussy or too flighty. I have a plan about it; which may come to nothing, but at present I am enamoured of it, & Aunt Nettie approves. It is to have Elliot keep in his store a little circulating library - we to provide the first books, & more to be bought out of the proceeds, if there should be any. Our present idea is to charge some small sum - say three cents a week for the use of a book. Floy wants to do missionary work of various kinds in that benighted region, & has pro- cured a copy of Aunt B's "Counsel to Parents" with a view to improving the morals of that end of the island. Now, why shouldn't she do a little intellectual as well as moral missionarying? The two go well together. The idea may not prove practical, but we can try. And Aunt Nettie thinks Floy would like it; says her chief fear has been of having no books to read herself, or that she could get Elliot to read, or anybody else. My notion is to begin with thoroughly good stories,interesting & more or less instructive as well, & then to add more solid things by degrees, if the experiment should be a success. Aunty can't make a long stay with F, as she wants of course to be ready to receive Grace on her landing. Ada Watson is here. She has graduated at the training school, got the highest attainable mark on her final examination, (& was examined, she says, by the hardest of the examiners, too) & is resting here a little while before going to N.Y. & going to work. Such yarns as she tells about the Mass. General Hospital! I must tell you sometime about some of her funny experiences. Miss Wilde, Hattie Turner & I have been kept in convulsions. Don't worry about my taking iron - Aunt Ey prescribed it. She found me rather tired, & said that nothing else was the matter with me - the fact that my Vineyard trip did me so much good proved that - & she said I [what I] was a little anaemic & needed to be turned out to grass for a month. But, as Papa & Mamma were just going off & I couldn't well be turned out to grass till they came home, she prescribed iron pills, & prophesied that my eyes & everything else would improve with the use of them. And they have. For a month [my ey] while I was taking the whole editorial charge of the paper my eyes were better than when I had only very one little department to attend to. Now I have left off taking thepills, having taken the prescribed number; & my eyes have begun to bother again. I'm thinking of taking some more, but suppose I must get Aunt Ey's leave first. I think Papa & Mamma are having rather an uncomfortable time in Nebraska. Of course we hear irregularly & often by postcards merely; but mother is longing to get home, while Papa aches to stay till the end of the campaign. She says he is just like a hound on the track. It was he who persuaded her into staying this extra ten days. But she has stood it better than he, physically. He does not get the food he needs, she says, & hence has bowel-troubles. The change of air has done her throat good, through. Last Wednesday I made my maiden speech, since graduation - delivered my graduating essay, with some little additions, before the Mass. W.C.T.U. Must tell you about it next time, if I