BLACKWELL FAMILY
ALICE STONE BLACKWELL               Kitty Barry                 Jan-July 1885Dorchester, Mass 
Jan 18, 1855
Dear Kitty:
There is really very little to tell, 
this week. Aunt Ey went home 
last Sunday afternoon, & has not 
since been heard from, except 
through the enclosed letter form Aunt 
Em. Papa had doubts about allowing 
me to send it on, but finally let me. 
You & Aunt B will please keep it 
to yourselves. The references in 
the first part of the letter need a 
little explanation. When Papa passed 
through N.Y. about a week ago, 
he called on Mrs. Lillie Deveraux 
Blake about some suffrage business, 
& found a tall young man of 
pleasing & elegant appearance,
visiting Mrs. B's daughters. They had 
a little conversation, & father was 
quite taken with him. In parting, 
the young man said to him "Mr. 
Blackwell, I have heard of you;

[*subject, for horrors are not wholesome to a woman who rather needs*]your sister was kind enough to
invite me to Martha's Vineyard to
meet you last summer, but I
could not come." It was the identical 
Mr. Robinson whose ill-timed
visit to Orange was described by
Aunts E & E from their respective
stand points in the two letters over
which you laughed so much.
Father rather thought, from the
signs, that he was courting one of
the Miss Blakes. I hope he will be
firmly & publicly engaged to somebody before
he comes down to M.V. next
year; for Aunt Ellen, with the
kindest intentions, is bent upon
throwing me at his head, & she
is so indiscreet she can hardly
have failed to let him see what
she would be at. If she can't secure
him for me, she wants to for Edith;
but for me in preference,  doubtless
because she considers my case the
more pressing, as I am four years
to be amused. But she finds it very interesting to come home with her 
head full of Marie Antoinette & Charlotte Corday. 

older.  Both Edith & I regard such
efforts for our benefit  (at least I
know I do, & from what I know
of Edith I am sure she does, if she
suspects) very much as you would,
i.e. we don't like it at all, & are
quite determined to have nothing
to do with it, nor, if we can help it,
with him. Fancy being trotted out
before a young man to see if you
will do - especially when, as in my
case, one is conscious of wrinkles
& sure one would not do - yah!
I want very much to go to the Vineyard
next summer, have been looking
forward to it ever since I left
it;  but if Mr. Robinson is to come
down there, without being safely &
thoroughly engaged in advance, I shall have
serious thoughts of making some
other arrangement.  There is a big
volume of Joanna Baillie's works at
20th St., with Aunt Marian's name
in it.  I dipped into it with much
Putnam has had her operation postponed till February. I haveattended one more meeting of the political science club, & am patiently
awaiting an account from you of how you & Aunt B. spent your xmas.
interest when I was there at Christmas
& particularly enjoyed one play where a 
goodnatured matchmaking aunt is
struggling to bring about a match between 
a certain eligible gentleman
and her own niece.  The gentleman
is rich, the young lady poor but
spunky, & very impatient of her
aunt's manoeuvering.  Every time the 
aunt gives a strong hint, praise her
niece's disposition &c, the niece is
provoked into representing her own
temper as just the contrary of what
her aunt says, & snubs the gentleman
unmercifully.  Can't I just see
Edith doing it!  Though I don't know
but she would be more likely to 
express similar feelings by entrenching
herself in the unconquerable, unapproachable 
silence and dignity.
Don't send this letter to Aunt M.
Aunt Ellen means nothing but
kindness by both Edith & me, but
it is very aggravating of her.

Cornelia wrote me a letter the day
after her arrival at Wheaton Seminary
saying that she liked it very well
there, & thought she should be happy.
I was afraid she might be homesick 
at first, & so was very glad to
find she was not.  She had already
got acquainted with nearly all the 
girls, & had beaten one of them in a 
game of bowls, or something of the
kind.  I sent the letter on to Aunt Ey.
We had a burglar scare one 
night this week.  We were warned 
by a neighbor that a suspicious looking
fellow had been seen hanging
about our house, who had hidden
in the bushes when he saw he
was observed; & we were advised
to look out.  As there have been
several houses robbed in this
neighborhood, Papa took the warning
to heart.  It was evening when
he received it, & forthwith he
armed Mr. Kilian with a hatchet, 
& himself took the carving-
As I said in the beginning-No news.  Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell.knife, & out they sallied to search
the environs.  They explored the bushes 
thoroughly, & got wet enough, for it
was a rainy, slushy evening, but
found nothing; nor was the 
house broken into in the night.
Father goes to Nantucket to-morrow, 
to attend a suffrage convention.
He will volunteer to go & speak here,
there & everywhere, in spite of mother's 
entreaties to him not to.  I'm afraid
the trip to Nantucket will be cold
at this time of the year; but still it
will be a change, & I hope a rest.
Although, as Aunt Ey says, he has 
almost a constitutional inability to
rest. I have been too busy to
read novels much lately-except a dip
into the Fortunes of Nigel & Sir Charles
Grandison - but I foresee a violent relapse.  
To rest one's mind & forget
worries, there is nothing like a novel.
Nordhoff's Politics for Young Americans
has been my diet, alternating
with Forster's Life of Dickens, which

is highly laudatory, but has given
me a lower opinion of Dickens
personally than I ever had before.
So different from Scott.  I shall like
Scott's novels better rather than worse for
having read Lockhart.  However,
I'm not half through Forster yet,
so this may be premature.The letter from Uncle Sam refers to a
long walk he & father took together last
Sunday.  Uncle S. ruptured himself some
time ago, & Papa was seized with
self-reproach afterwards for fear he had
overwalked Uncle S.
Mother has taken a season ticket
to Stoddard's course of lectures on
the French Revolution, with stereopticon
views.  I wish it were on some other

Dorchester, Mass.
March 1, 1885
Dear Kitty:
I came near having a very unpleasant
piece of news to tell this week, no other
than the death of Papa; but happily he
is all right now.  Washington's birthday
fell on Sunday this year, so it was celebrated 
on Monday; and father took advantage 
of the holiday to work at his 
sorghum experiments in the chemist's
den in Boston.  Young Mr. Avery was
there, too, working at some experiments
of his own.  It was cold, & the fire in
the stove not lighted; so Mr. Avery made
one up in a little smelting furnace, but
did not take care to attend to the draughts.
Presently father felt dizzy, & so did Mr. A, &
they mentioned it to one another.  They
worked on for an hour longer, perhaps; &
by that time father was feeling so much
worse, with pain in his head & back, &
general misery, that he said he must get
out.  Mr. A. had a severe head-ache too,
& said "Oh, I know what it is; it is carbonic 
oxide; that furnace is famous
for it."  Father gathered up his things, dizzily -
missed one cuff but could not
signed the pledge; when his friends expressed surprise to see him wearing the blue ribbon
he replied with a wink, "It 
makes folks like to tempt me, & then I succumbs."
Since I joined the Y.W.C.T.U., 
whose 
pledge 
includes 
cider, 
father 
is 
never
weary 
of 
expatiating 
to me 
upon 
the 
hygienic 
virtues 
of 
cider 
& 
inviting 
me to 
share hisstop to find it -- & they started for the door.
Father was too ill to walk down the stairs,
so he sat down & slid to the bottom.  They
found the outside door locked.  Mr. A's key
would only unlock[ed] it from the outside, &
he had asked the people below not to fasten
it when they went away, but they had 
forgotten, & had left him & father locked in.
They hammered on the door & called for help.
A drunken woman came by, & they called 
to her through the slit left for letters, & 
begged her to call a policeman.  She wanted
25 cents first.  Mr. A passed her out a dime,
but she demanded more.  Meanwhile a
young man came by, & they called to him.  
He soon had two policemen there.  Father
& Mr. A. passed the key out through the
slit, the door was unlocked & they were 
set free.  Father was so weakened by breathing
the gas that the cold of the outside air
seemed to strike him at every pore & pierce
to the bone.  He made his way up the Journal
office, with a violent pain in the stomach,
which relieved itself in a natural way;
& the next day he professed to feel all
right again.  But it was an ugly
scrape.  I disapprove of a kind of gas
that has no smell, & yet is poisonous.

[* nightly little pitcherful.  He never cared at all about having me take it before!
Now he recommends cider as a sure cure for everything, from earache to rheumatism. *]


When Edith wrote last week, she
said "I have a fluent cold, feel as if
onion's were being peeled [before] near my eyes
every few minutes-a most delightful sensation.  
We & half a dozen neighbors have just
been listening to a sort of little lecture by a 
Mr. Peck, who is reading a course on Sunday
afternoons in our parlor, on "The Kingdom
of the Unselfish."  It is not easy to get
much of an audience, since we are Unitarians 
& the Cs agnostics, & the neighbors
very orthodox, most of them, & a little
suspicious of 'Sunday discourses' under
our auspices.  Agnes received a gorgeous
Valentine from the same source as the 
Xmas card etc.  G. & I are invited to a 
wedding next week & I have begun a 
little painting to be framed for a gift."
The bride is a Miss Pendreigh who once
lived in Somerville. 

On the day of Papa's gaseous experience, 
the Wellesley teachers gave a reception, 
& I was invited- went, & rather
enjoyed it.  It is always pleasant to 
see that beautiful great building, the
grounds & the lake, & the fine pictures
that line the halls.  Then Miss Freeman,

[* It is really funny.  No news.  Very busy.  You saw the telegram Mrs. Wells & Mr. Parkman 
sent to Dakota.  I wrote forthwith to Clara Barton, & she sent a counter-telegram, like 
a 
brick 
as she 
is.  
The 
Dakota 
people 
most 
of 
them 
never 
heard 
of 
Parkman 
& 
Wells-
didn't 
even 
spell 
their 
names 
right.the President, is a really lovely woman,
& it is a pleasure to meet her -- makes
one feel better.  Also I like to meet Miss
Morgan, their professor of metaphysics,
mental philosophy &c, she has such
bright eyes & carries herself so erect &
splendidly.  I don't think much of
her metaphysics, as compared with
Professor Bowne's; but she is a bright
woman, & friendly.  Helen Magill & her sister
came back on the same train with me;
& we had quite a chat.  No special news.
Mother went to the theatre last night to see
Henry Irving as Louis XI -- his last appearance.
Rose Hollingsworth invited her, being greatly
in want of someone to accompany her who 
would go back to the Old Colony station with
her afterwards.  Mrs. Hollingsworth had seen 
the same play twice & did not want to see
[him] it again.  Rose was roaming wildly in search
of me, & met mother, who assured her it
was no use to ask me.  So she engaged mother
instead, & mother enjoyed it greatly.  It was
very lucky for her to have the chance.  Professor
Buck & his wife had a private box, by special favor, 
to see Irving a few nights ago; & invited me
to go with them.  I almost shed to tears to say no;
it would have been a splendid chance, & poor
Mamma felt badly not to have me -- & it was
very kind of Prof B. to give me the opportunity.  It
seems as if someone were inviting me all the 
time, now.  It makes me think of the toper who

[* but everybody has heard of her.  Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell. *]


Dorchester, Mass.
March 15, 1885.
Dear Kitty:--

There is no special news.  The great
event of the week has been the remonstrants' 
hearing, but you have doubtless
seen all that in the W.J.  We were all 
raised to the seventh heaven of exultation
by the news that the Dakota Legislature
had passed the woman suffrage bill, only to
learn yesterday that the Governor had vetoed
it--to our unspeakable disappointment &
disgust.  Father expressed blood-thirsty sentiments 
toward that Governor, & slung adjectives 
about in the most reckless way, while
I acted as parson's clerk & said Amen.

Edith writes that she & her sisters
have had another tennis club sociable.  It
was a masquerade, with very short time
for preparation; but they seem to have
got a deal of fun out of it.  Grace represented 
a Kate Greenaway girl, with a large
poke bonnet & huge sunflower; Agnes a
dashing young lady without a name; Ethel
was "Mary, Mary, quite contrary," in a straw
hat musical with small bells.  Edith herself
was the Snow Queen, with a sceptre of a 
branch covered with tin foil to represent
ice, & with a large amount of cotton-batting
snow, "which acted somewhat as a scarecrow
against broadcloth."  

The beet-sugar company

[* temptation ever since, leading me to neglect my work.  Dear me, I can't 
remember 
when there 
had 
been 
such 
an 
utter 
dearth 
of 
news. 
And 
probably
when 
the 
letter 
is 
sealed 
up, 
I 
shall 
think 
of *]the President, is a really lovely woman,
& it is a pleasure to meet her-makes
one feel better. Also I like to meet Miss
Morgan, their professor of metaphysics,
mental philosophy &c, she has such
bright eyes & carries herself so erect &
splendidly. I don't think much of
her metaphysics, as compared with
Professor Bowne's; but she is a bright
woman, & friendly. Helen Magill & her sister
came back on the same train with me;
& we had quite a chat. No special news.
Mother went to the theatre last night to see
Henry Irving as Louis XI - his last appearance.
Rose Hollingsworth invited her, being greatly
in want of someone to accompany her who
would go back to the Old Colony station with
her afterwards. Mrs. Hollingsworth had seen
the same play twice & did not want to see
[him] it again. Rose was roaming wildly in search
of me, & met mother, who assured her it
was no use to ask me. So she engaged mother
instead, & mother enjoyed it greatly. It was
very lucky for her to have the chance. Professor
Buck & his wife had a private box, by special favor,
to see Irving a few nights ago; & invited me
to go with them. I almost shed tears to say no;
it would have been a splendid chance, & poor
Mamma felt badly not to have me - & it was
very kind of Prof. B. to give me the opportunity. It
seems as if someone were inviting me all the
time, now. It makes me think of the toper who

but everybody has heard of her. Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell

Dorchester, Mass.
March 15, 1885.
Dear Kitty:-
There is no special news. The great
event of the week has been the remonstrants'
hearing, but you have doubtless
seen all that in the W.J. We were all
raised to the seventh heaven of exultation
by the news that the Dakota Legislature
had passed the woman suffrage bill, only to
learn yesterday that the Governor had vetoed
it - to our unspeakable disappointment &
disgust. Father expressed blood-thirsty sentiments
toward that Governor, & slung adjectives
about it in the most reckless way, while
I acted as person's clerk & said Amen.
Edith writes that she & her sisters
have had another tennis club sociable. It
was a masquerade, with very short time
for preparation; but they seem to have
got a deal of fun out of it. Grace represented
a Kate Greenaway girl, with a large
poke bonnet & a huge sunflower; Agnes a
dashing young lady without a name; Ethel
was "Mary, Mary quite contrary," in a straw
hat musical with small bells. Edith herself
was the Snow Queen, with a sceptre of a
branch covered with tin foil to represent
ice, & with a large amount of cotton-batting
snow, "which acted somewhat as a scarecrow
against broadcloth." The beet-sugar company

temptation ever since, leading me to neglect my work. Dear me, I can't
remember
when there
had
been
such 
an
utter
dearth
of 
news.
And
probably
when 
the 
letter
is
sealed
up,
I 
shall
think
ofwant him to go to New Orleans at their
expense & try to sell some of their machinery,
& mother & I are doing our best
to get him to go. It is a rare chance to
see the Exposition.
Since beginning this letter I have
been to church, & on the way stopped
at the P.O. & got your letter of Feb. 22
to March 1, enclosing one from Aunt
Marian, with pictures of a little dog which
she says looks like Chady. I am glad
you had a nice time at Southampton. 
I never met Mary Lamb, but feel
almost acquainted with her from
hearing so much about her.
What American paper do you
take, now that you have stopped
the Tribune? As for Gladstone's
letter to Smalley, neither father nor
I have seen it, or [soon] seen any reference
to it. I did not even know that
Smalley was the Tribune's English correspondent,
though I was under
the impression that the person, 

whoever he was, was hatefully disposed
towards woman suffrage.
I was interested to hear about
Helen Gladstone & Professor Stuart.
Why should Mrs. Butler object? It
can't be that Miss G. is a partisan
of the Acts?
Father walks with me to church
almost every Sunday.  It is about a
mile. At the church door he bids
me goodbye, & walks back alone.
By the way, before I forget - I have
mailed to Aunt Marian a copy of Besant's
"Chaplain of the Fleet." Would you
kindly let me know whether she gets
it, & whether the print [was] is tolerable
to her eyes? The worst of those cheap
libraries is that the print is generally
so poor; but the Seaside's is larger than
that of the Franklin Sq., as a rule.
Mother & I have hit upon a new
& acceptable addition to Papa's lunch.
He wont take anything but two slices
of bread & butter, & a little fruit; and that
does not seem very nourishing. Lately

[*half a dozen things you might have been interested to hear! Well, they
will do for next time. No we don't see the English papers. Even the
magazines I do not get time to read, as a rule.  Why do English
newspapers
have
such*]we have begun, without asking his 
permission for fear he should refuse it, to
slip a raw egg in. Finding after one or
two experiments that it did not come
home, we ventured to speak to him
about it, & found he did not object
to it. It takes only a few minutes to
suck one, & we feel better to know he
has had something substantial.
I have a new blue dress. Mother says
it is cashmere. It is made in the
detestable manner which is the fashion
now, with a long useless apron in front,
looped up at the sides, & good for nothing
earthly but an incumbrance [encumbrance]. It makes
me want to kick & swear. But the color
I think would meet your approbation.
It is a pretty tint.  I went to a
symphony concert the other day, by  
invitation of Mr. Bowditch. Some of it
was beautiful, but in the main I 
certainly don't appreciate classical music.
Give me something with a tune to it!
There seems to be absolutely no news. We
are all very busy. I treated myself the
other day to a dollar's worth of light
literature, which has proved a snare &
[*villanous blurry print? Or is it the sea damp that affects it on the way
across?  Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell.*]

Dorchester. Mass, April 19, 1985,
Dear Kitty: Your letter of [April] May 29-
[Apr?] 2 & your card of April 4 arrived
simultaneously, last Tuesday I think it was. I wont
tempt Aunt M. with any more bad print. The
single "Seaside" I sent wont do much mischief;
it was an amusing story & I wanted her to read
it, but the print was disreputable, it must be
confessed. Your other letter of April 6 came
yesterday. Three communications in one week
is richness indeed. What has come [to] over you? it
is delightful!  Father got home on [Friday]
Thursday. He had been away 18 days. I 
think the trip has done him good,  though
somewhere toward the end of it he ate
something that disagreed with him, & so
when he arrived he was "keeping up a
diary," as he expressed it. He came home
perfectly overflowing with puns of all sorts,
from the most brilliant to the most
execrable, & has been keeping Miss Wilde
& Miss Turner in convulsions with the
rapid succession of fireworks he lets off
in the office. He succeeded in selling a part
of the Beet Sugar Co's machinery for $3500., 
to their great satisfaction. It is a low price,
but they were glad to get even that for it.
So in a business point of view the trip
was a success; & he saw the exposition,
[*and important item, & if Aunt B. can afford to contribute that, I can perfectly well
afford to put in the small additional amount needed [to] for the salary as my
contribution
toward
my
cousin's
needs.
Cousins
ought
to help
each
other
when 
help 
is needed,
& all
the*]& had the change, & the scenery etc thrown
in. He has come back impressed with the
misery of the poor whites & the immorality
of the darkies, & the fact that the South is
100 years behind the rest of the country.
But then, he is a constitutional pessimist.
Mother's throat was better, & she was
up & around again before he arrived. Great
good luck it was. He would have been
dreadfully frightened if he had come home
& [find] found her in bed. She has not
gone into the city yet, but is almost as
well as usual.  It was very odd of
that person unknown to want my opinion
on her poems! Does she imagine that [the]
because I have selected the poetry for the 
Woman's Journal for a few years, I must
therefore be an authority? I have read the
two you sent, and I cannot truthfully say
that they seem to me good. "To a friend on
her birthday" is decidedly poor; it aims to be
blank verse, but the metre is very faulty &
the sentiment not striking enough to atone
for it.  Besides, you know, blank verse has
to be very fine indeed to be acceptable. The
popular ear, rightly or wrongly, demands
rhyme. "A Song of the Maples" is better.
There is only one instance of really bad
metre in it (second line), and there are

several pretty expressions. I am sure I
have seen worse poetry printed in the Times-
Democrat. There is not the least indication
in the verses that the writer could ever win
fame as a poet, or be a "Tennyson the 2nd"
to use your expression; but I should think
she might get her verses printed, & perhaps
even get some of them paid for, by the 
papers which are not very exacting in their
standard. This is my opinion raw, for
you. You must cook it over into a politer[ness]
form for the unknown writer, so as not to
hurt her feelings. For of course, though
you do not know who she is, you must
have a pretty good guess. I suspect Miss
Bethann-Edwards; she is the only person
on the other side of the water who has
hitherto been crazy enough to want me
to pass judgment on her poems! By the
way, the volume of them that was supposed
to have been sent on has never arrived.
You shall have a copy of
some American paper, or half a dozen if
you like, when Gen. Grant dies. We do
not have the N.Y. Times, but I can 
procure a copy. But you know the 
General is better. For weeks his death
was daily expected, & the bulletins con-

[*Rogers's were kind to me when I was over there. I remember Lillie well - a pretty
delicate little creature, with rather thin, sharp features. She wasn't strong even then.
Now, Kitty, [to] do back up my bright idea with all your might & help me to*]cerning [concerning] his health occupied the foremost
place in the morning papers. But now
the bulletins have been relegated to a less
conspicuous place, & one paper even announced
that they would be discontinued.
A[s I] great deal of sympathy has been
manifested for him; but as to its recalling
to people's minds the principles for
which the war was fought, I don't know.
Did you see that various associations of Confederate
soldiers had been passing resolutions
of sympathy, & that Jeff Davis had sent
the General a letter of condolence? It
tends to good feeling, & a deeper burial of
the hatchet, but that is about all.
You are mistaken, I think, in your
idea of the water-cure where Edith is. Dr.
Jackson is not the editor of the "Herald
of Health," but of the "Laws of Life," a [paper] magazine
which advocates two meals a day, & also
a great deal of graham meal & cold water,
I believe--all that sort of thing--but
there is nothing "nasty" about it, so
far as I know. The Colburns, Uncle
Sam's neighbors, have been in the
habit of spending their summers
there; & I believe Dr. Phelps was also

there for a time. Edith has written
me a long letter describing the place
 & patients--quite an amusing description.
I'll send it on to you, soon.
She seems to have plenty to eat, & 
a good variety. Edith did not
complain of her health while she was
here, in fact hardly ever referred
to her health at all unless in
answer to direct questions on the
subject. I don't believe it is all 
[hypo?]. Strictly between you & me,
I don't think Dr. Cushier has
stood Edith's friend at all with
Aunt Emily, but the contrary.
Mother thinks so, too. Edith has
plenty of pride & pluck, & is
willing to work. She never stood
lower than second in her class
at Swarthmore, & she undertook
her medical studies with good
will, & would be glad to take them

[*persuade Aunt B. And in any case, however she decides, beg her not to let a word
of it get back to this side the water. "Honor bright," I could manage it perfectly
well. I should hardly have felt at liberty to propose until this Eddy legacy came*]
up again if she thought she [could] were strong enough.
Aunt Emily has rather the idea
that Edith got disgusted with the
study of medicine, & made her
health an excuse for dropping it;
& of course she is disappointed in
her. Now I haven't the slightest
doubt that the Edith really fully
believed that her head & eyes gave out,
whether they did or not. Florence
has always thought Edie's only
ail was hypo, but when she
saw her at M.V. she (F) was
shocked at her looks, & gave up
that idea. However, it is of no use
talking. The poor youngone will
have to unravel her own skein,
I suppose. But I do think that
Aunt Fey, with Dr. Cushier's little word
slipped into her ear at every opportunity,
has done Edith an unintentional
injustice. (Don't you send
this on to anybody! For, after all,

it is none of my business.) 
April 21. This morning, just before
mother went in to the city (Monday being
her day in the office) the postman brought
in Aunt R's pamphlet on municipal government.
Mother beamed, & said "My, Aunt
Elizabeth is very much - up to things - isn't
she?" i have been thinking a good
deal about Lillie rogers this week. Do
you really mean that Aunt B. would be
glad to keep her as her private secretary, if
she could afford the salary, - and that f20,
$100. a year - would be as much pay as
L.R. would think necessary? Because, if 
so, I could & would contribute the f20. for
the purpose. Now don't you sit down on
me, but consider it seriously. I have been
thinking it over for a week, & I could do it
perfectly well; & I want you to persuade
Aunt B. to let me.  Impress upon her these
three points: 1. I am good for the money.
I have $300. a year from the W.J., & $70.
a year from a $1000 bond of the Iron Mt. R.R.
which father & mother made over to me
on my 21st birthday, & which draws interest
at 7%. And during the past year I have
earned over $50. by versifications, & can
probably earn still more in that way, as

[*& relieved the family pinch which has existed for some time; but that makes all
easy. I personally have had plenty, right along; the pinch came on Papa & Mamma,
but now it is over. Now, K., do be a good child & back me up;  consider the entire
reasonableness of it! If you don't, I shall be very much disappointed. No special*]then I was just beginning & hadn't got a
foothold. So that my annual pocket money
amounts to considerably more than $400.
2. I can do it without wronging myself.
A girl who lives at home & has her "board
& washing found," as father expresses it, has
no great expenses, & does not need anything
like $400. a year for pocket money. I spend
every year more than $100. for things that
are not necessary. 3. I should like to
do it. I want to very much. And she may
be quite sure I could not get more pleasure 
out of that $100. in any other way. It would
be such a nice arrangement. Aunt B. will
have more work when she is a Poor Law
Guardian, & will need more help. And you
would have a young thing in the house to
pet & take care of, which would be a great 
pleasure to you. And last but not least, it would
be so nice for Lillie. She would be in a place
that she finds "a haven of rest:' she would have
work not too hard for her, she would be sheltered
from uncomfortable family squabbles; & she would
have first class medical oversight all the time.
If her health is such that the wont be able to
keep on governessing long, she had much better
stop it before she fairly breaks down. Now, Kitty,
don't you go & scout the idea. It would be a 
nice thing all round, and it is perfectly
feasible. Why shouldn't you & Aunt B. & I 
cooperate to look after a little cousin who needs to be
looked after? Aunt B. believes in cooperation! And
it seems to me it would be a rarely good chance
for Lillie. Board & lodging are the most expensive

[*news. Goodbye, Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell*]

Dorchester, Mass.  June 14, 1885.
Dear Kitty: Mamma has made her
visit to N.Y. & West Brookfield, & a very
short one it was. She left home Thursday
& got back Saturday. Her journey began
unpropitiously. In the railroad station
at Boston she tripped over a man's foot &
fell flat, making her nose bleed. It is still
tender, but not seriously injured. But she
enjoyed the journey. She went by train
instead of boat because the country is so
beautiful now, & she wanted to see it.
In N.Y. she chose a set of China, & 
had a cosy confab with Aunt Emily.
They talked over all the affairs of the
family, & some of the affairs of the
nation. Aunt Emily is looking very
thin, but says she is no thinner
than she is glad to be. They all dressed
for dinner, Nannie included. Mother
says Nannie is graceful & gentle, & a
thoroughly nice child. Aunt Fey
means to spend the first part of
her vacation somewhere in the
country - with Dr. Cushier, I
believe - & not come here for 6
weeks, & not go to M.V. till

[*Affy, Alice S. Blackwell. I suppose Emma is at*]
later than usual. On Friday mother went to W. Brookfield, + spent that night at Uncle Bo's. He + Aunt Martha are talking of marrying. They have been obliged to talk of it because everybody is gossiping about it. Somebody has even been to the town clerk to ask whether they had yet taken out the license! The house seemed very empty, but Uncle Bo said that he thought Phebe + Mr. Beeman had done wisely to go to St. Johnsbury, where they have been very warmly welcomed. Mother fraternized with the orphan boy who drove her up from the station to Uncle Bo's; + she distributed a lot of woman suffrage tracts on the cars + at the station where they made her journey a missionary one in her simple hearted way. On Saturday she came home. Maria Mitchell was on the train. + 
M.V., but don't know for certain. Her address

came out on to the platform to hail mother + get her to come + sit with her. So they had a thoroughly nice time together, + enjoyed the journey instead of finding it a bore- Miss Mitchell says that Mrs. Livermore has a saying, "As true as Lucy Stone." We are all much as usual. Father has had dizziness in his head. He is busying himself surreptitiously with projects about a sugar mill; + he is also making arrangements to build some houses on our lower lot.
While mother was away, father + I had Miss Bassett out to supper. Also I went over and made an afternoon call on Mrs. Bowne, knowing that the Professor was away. Mrs. Bowne has such a pretty sister; + the sister was trimming hats. She says they always trim their own + will be delighted to help me with mine anytime; which is very amiable 
there will be West Tisbury.of them. Aunt Emily is very much pleased about Aunt B's pitching in against the added taxation in Hastings. That was one of the things she + mother talked about. I have been pasting scrap-books, with a good deal of satisfaction. Have been reading Robertson's Life + Letters, also Edith M. Thomas's + Sidney Lanier's poems.
Mother found the air at Coy's Hill so fine + such a change that she wants me to go up there for a week. Uncle Bo gives a cordial invitation, + I think your next letter will be dated from West Brookfield. It has grown very hot here, + I am feeling as if I should like to get away. Only I do hate to leave father + mother with all the load..


West Brookfield, Mass.  June 21, 1885.
My dear Kitty:
Here we are, Papa, Mamma + I. I came Wednesday, + go home to-morrow to attend woman suffrage conventions at Springfield + elsewhere. This is about the finest inland place I know, as M.V. is the finest seaside place. I went up to the top of Coy's Hill + along it, + there is the same wonderful sea of hills in all directions, + the wind blowing, + the solitude. All the near hilltops are a rich red + yellow-brown with the sorrel, which is especially abundant this year. Phebe + her family are now settled at St. Johnsburg, Vt as doubtless you know. If you don't, I ought to be ashamed of myself for not telling you. So there are only 
was 80 here, but felt really cool. No news. Affy, Uncle Bo + Aunt Martha, + little Freddy, + the hired men. I went over the other night to see my old friends Mr. + Mrs. Van Slyke- Mr. + Mrs. Vin, we always call them. He is a cool black negro, a very good fellow, + she is a kind jolly little Irishwoman. Their children are grown out of all knowledge. Andrew, the baby whom I used to carry about under my arm, is big enough now to do the same by me. Mr. + Mrs. V. were very kind + cordial, it quite warmed my heart to see them, + to find what affectionate remembrances of me they had kept. Uncle Bo + Aunt Martha are the same good people. 
Alice Stone Blackwell.

It is very pleasant to room across these delightful pastures with him, as Papa + I have been doing to-day, + hear him tell the ancient history of each road + rock + tree + old farm house- +tell about my great,-grandfather, Col. Francis Stone, who was prominent in Shay's Rebellion, + I believe had to escape into Canada for a time in consequence. It livens mother up wonderfully to get to the old farm. She really ought to spend her summers here. She has childish reminisces connected with every rock + swamp, + tells them with never-failing gusto. It makes her seem younger.
You will see by Aunt Emily's letter that the exodus to the Vineyard is fairly aboutto begin. Emma is there already, + I expect to go down within a fortnight. So you can direct your letters, there, to Squibnacket, after you get this. I havn't had a letter from you for more than a month. What do you mean by it? I am not worried about you, for Aunt B. in her letter to mother said you were all well. But that makes your conduct the more reprehensible. I am writing this on a big book- Lockhart's Life of Scott, which I got from the library to bring up here. I have laid in quite a stock of light literature to take to M.V. with a few biographies for ballast. The thermometer was 94 the day before I left Boston. This morning it 

Dorchester, Mass. 
June 28, 1885.
My dear Kitty: 
Yours of June 9-11 has come. It was of course very welcome. I'm glad you had a good time at Haslemere. I grinned at the ideal of your acting as dragon to your pretty Maggie + mildly gorgonizing (fancy a mild Gorgon!) the painters. I trust the smell of paint has died away long before this. With your exceptionally fine sense of smell, new paint must be misery to you. The English climate seems to be rivalling that of New England in visibility + freaks. Do send me anything you can in behalf of Trades-Unions. I am haunted by the memory of an article contributed by Tom Hughes several years ago to some American magazine- seems to me it was Scribner's- in which he mentioned his experiences as arbitrator between masters +
think well of her. Goodbye. Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell.men, + said that at bottom the men were generally in the right. I haven't been able to find it. I have out of the library at present a "History of the Trades Unions of England." by Louis Philippe d'Orleans, translated by Nassau Senior + with a preface by our Tommy. There are a number of good points in it, I think from a hasty glance.
Let's see what has happened this week. On Monday we all left West Brookfield, father + mother to attend conventions, I to come home + take care of the paper. Ada Watson is staying here for a few weeks, taking a rest from her nursing, + making herself a lot of new dresses. She is also going to help me about a flannel one which I am surreptitiously preparing for M.V. It is a shame that a 

woman of my age shouldn't be able to plan about her own clothes, without casting the care of them on her poor overworked mother. I don;t mean to let mother see this gown till it is done, if I can help it. 
Nannie + Neenie arrived last night. It was the intention that they should go down to M.V. on Monday, + meet Aunt Ellen; but Aunt Ellen has some people inquiring about two of her houses, + as it is important for her to rent them if possible, she will defer her departure for a few days to see about it. Meanwhile the girls are to stay here. We were all sitting at supper when Papa arrived last night. The girls saw him before he reached the screen door that opens on the piazza, + they showed all theirwhite teeth in anticipation of the fun that Uncle Harry always brings with him. He saw them too, + began to exclaim about the "vision of beauty" he beheld, before he was [?] in the house. Did I tell you that father's dizziness is better? Mother declares she will never go to any more conventions, except the annual meetings of the American W.S.A. 
It was very sultry to-day. I am longing to get away somewhere, + feel that vacation has begun. Yesterday came another twenty-dollar check from the Times-Democrat, + I feel quite set up. I want a portable photographic apparatus, + can pay for it with the proceeds of the T.D., if only mother won't insist on my appropriating the money for clothes. I have not heard from Flo since the letter I sent you. Dr. Webster is very safe, I think; she was the physician at Vassar College for years, + I understand that Aunt Em-Dorchester, Mass. 
July 5, 1885. 
Dear Kitty;
Nannie + Neenie are still here. Aunt Ellen was to have gone down yesterday, with Aunt Eliza + Grace, Aunt Eliza to be left at Uncle George's + Grace at Floy's. But she found that the Portland boat that leaves on Saturdays now is a small + disagreeable one, so she has put off her departure till next Wednesday, when, if pleasant, they shall expect to start. I have put off my departure till the middle of the month, as a "Barcroft
Brookfield? We hailed them, + exchanged a few sentences. Maria was not along. No letter from Flo since last writing. The other day mypicnic" is to come off on July 14 at Providence- + with much grumbling + reluctance (for I'm longing to be off) I have decided to stay for it. We rather look for Aunt Emily about the end of this week or the beginning of next. It is fine weather, but hot. Mr. Gorow has been spending the afternoon, + is at this moment on top of the house with Papa. We have been for a long ride, + have got out of him a number of interesting things about Russia.
Cornelia has been hunting over our huge 
heed felt particularly tired, + I wanted a regular bloody + thunderous novel, one that would entirely prevent

stack of back numbers of Littell's Living Age in search of a frightful ghost story which I inadvertently mentioned to her. Luckily she has forgotten the name of it, + so will probably be unable to find it.
Last evening was good for fireworks. There was no rain, but a background of black cloud against which rockets +c showed off finely. Father, Nannie + Neenie + I went on top of the house to see the fireworks which kept shooting up all around the horizon- the nearer ones with hisses, but the more distant ones in a silent + magical manner. Fire balloons went sailing past, 
me from thinking. So I got out "Guy Livingstone," which I know only through Bret Harte's parody.kept alight till they were mere 
specks in the distance.

Thank you for the photograph 
of Miss Marks "that was". It 
was thoughtful of you to 
send it. Who is this Mr. Aryton 
she has married- Christian 
or Jew, & what sort of a 
person?  I met Lydia Dame 
the other day in the city, & 
we went to the Public Library 
together, & pored over a
 book of Anglican hymns.
Also, one day Emma Atkinson 
walked in upon me, 
& we had a nice confab.
 She is a very fine girl--a 
good girl.  Ada Watson 
also is still here. I have 
bought myself a black 
flannel gown- only cost 
four dollars, so if I should

[* It is an unprincipled & therefore aggravating yarn, *]


spoil the stuff it is no great
 loss. Ada has cut it for 
me surreptitiously, & I am 
going to make it . Mother 
hasn't seen it yet, but she 
knows there is something 
in the wind, & suspects 
each of the dresses which 
Ada is making for herself 
(she has made five) of being 
for me.  There seems to 
be nothing to tell, for the 
only things that have
 happened have been with 
people you don't know 
& wouldn't care to hear 
about. I have been pasting 
scrap-books, with great 
delight. I have lots of 

[*  but it answered the purpose. It is an absurd glorification
of muscle. Goodbye. Affy, A.S. Blackwell. *]cuttings, especially of poetry
from back numbers of the
W. J., & I just revel in
posting them. There are
cherries & currants, &
plenty of red & white roses
in the garden. I wish you
could kiss my hand just
now, for the scent of a
little lemon-scented plant
I have been picking sticks
to it, & would delight your
nose. Even I can smell it.
Did I tell you that one
morning when I was
driving down with Uncle
Bowman with the milk,
we passed Mr. & Mrs. Barlow
in their carriage, going to
pay some visit in West