BLACKWELL FAMILY                        Kitty Barry      Oct.-Dec. 1889
ALICE STONE BLACKWELLDorchester, Mass                             Oct. 13, 1889

My dear Kitty:
     Florence is here, plump and jolly. The girls at the office regard her as the picture of health. She has been to see Dr. Smith, and Dr. Smith says there is a growth of some sort in the uterus; it may be trifling or it may be serious, she cannot tell; but in any case it will have to be removed; and Floy must take ether and be thoroughly examined. And when this thing is removed, Dr. S. does not see why Floy should not become a well woman and have a large family. Florence is already planning out the education of nine prospective little Blackwell-Mayhews; for she says she supposes she may be like a certain woman she knows of, who was married for some years without having any and then had nine in rapid succession. She is to have the thing removed as soon as the most propitious time of the month arrives; and meanwhile she trots about
[*but helped mother all the morning instead,  so has to work at it this evening. Just what you would have done. The Historical*]the city visiting the Battle of Gettysburg and all the sights, and standing on her feet a good deal and getting tired, which I think cannot be the very best preparation for having an operation performed upon one's inside. This morning she went down to the Methodist church and came home declaring that she had been kissed so much that she was perfectly exhausted; she had been " handed around." Ethel immediately treated her upon the principle of similia similibus curantur.
     My father has negotiated successfully for the purchase of the main part of that land he wanted. He is to pay between five and six thousand dollars for it, and it will keep him at work for five or six years to develop it, probably. He is pleased and Mamma disgusted. I rather think it is a mistake for him to tie up so large a part of his money in land. It may result in leaving me more if I survive him, but it would be better that he and Mamma should take the comfort of what money they have, as they go along, instead of doing without things they would like to have and possibly, if the speculation turns out well, reaping a pile of money just when they will be departing this life. However, as it is done it is not worth while to grumble about it; and Papa takes a lively interest in land and houses, and anything by which there is a hope of making money. This new tract of land will furnish him with an occupation much more congenial to him than editing a reform paper, for he does not naturally take to reform. Now Mamma and I do. I like to work on the W.J.- can't think of any line of work open to me that I should like so well. And I must try to work things around so that Papa will leave the paper more to Mrs. Adkinson and me. In fact, I think he will have to, now that he has this land on his hands.
Did I tell you Zion's Herald asked me to write them an article and offered to pay me $10? I have written it, and received the $10., and felt as rich as Croesus till I had to pay it all out in
[*Pageant was repeated last week, & was thought to have gone off well.
Yours affectionately, Alice Stone Blackwell*]a lump for my annual membership in the women's club. Today Ethel received a letter from Uncle Sam. Aunt Nettie has gone to Denver to attend the Woman's Congress. Uncle S. writes: "Aunt Ellen has gone to Lawrence to put her house in order. Next week her address for the winter will be 87 Lexington Ave., near her beloved gallery. Mamma reports all well and satisfactory meetings at Denver. Aunt Emily and Nannie, Cornelia, the 2 Orange households and Aunt Eliza all well. Grace came home from a walk with Mrs. Barker yesterday, bearing a great pyramid of color, trophies of 'scarlet October'. Agnes and Grace both painting and drawing in the library. Edie not quite so burdened as last term."
We have had here today, for dinner and to spend the afternoon, three So. Carolina ladies, and Ethel's friend, Miss Dodd. The S.C. ladies were Mrs. Christiansen, Mrs. Neblet & Mrs. Turnipseed- the last a quiet old lady, with nothing ridiculous about her but her name. Mrs. Neblet is odd and jolly and very tall; mother comes just up to her shoulder and it is funny to see them together. No special news. I have not heard from you since the letter received on my birthday. Ethel is a good child, she had a composition to write,


Dorchester, Mass. Oct. 20, 1889.
My dear Kitty:
Floy went to the New England Hospital
for Women & Children yesterday, &
to-morrow Dr. Smith is to operate.
Aunt Emily was consulted, & wrote
highly approving. She said it would
probably cost Floy less to have it done
here than to go on to N.Y. & have
it done there; and that Dr. Smith's
skill was amply adequate. Dr. Smith
does not seem to think it will be very
serious. She says Floy may not have
to stay more than a week in hospital, but she cannot tell at all
until she makes a thorough examination
& finds what the trouble is [*& that she can only do under ether.] 
Floy's appetite & sleep & general health
are so good that we think it is not
likely to be anything very bad.
But Floy is very apprehensive about
taking ether - afraid it may affect her
heart, etc. Dr. Smith, however says they
have never had an accident with
ether at the hospital yet; & of course
it isn't likely that Floy would be the first.

[*of Miss Shaw. When people are honest & unselfish & not conceited, it
is a treat to be with them. I hope Miss P. will come over often.
Too bad that Mr. Estcourt won't come down to breakfast. It is a most*]Elliot + Ethel + I drove her over to the 
hospital it is only half an hour's drive
from our house.  The poor child was nervous
+ a little tearful, + looked at the building with
distaste as we drove up to it.  "It's very fine,
no doubt," she said, "but I wish I didn't have 
to visit it, all the same." She wanted Elliot
to come to see her, + seemed to have some
little doubt as to whether he would be let
in; but he assured her he would get in
somehow, if he had to come down the 
chimney.  He was not reduced to any
such straits, though, for the patients 
are allowed to receive their friends every
day from two to four P. M. We left her
at the door, + drove home.
(Oct.21. Elliot + Ethel + I are now sitting 
in the waiting room at the hospital, + 
Floy, we suppose, is being operated on at 
this moment.  We are not to be allowed to see
her, but are waiting so as to get the 
earliest news).  Yesterday afternoon 
(Sunday) we drove over, + got here about
three.  Floy had been watching out of
the window for us for an hour.  As soon
as we entered her room she burst
into tears, + as Elliot gathered her into
his arms she whispered that she hated
the hospital + could not bear her

[*annoying habit.  Few things put Mamma out more.  Why don't you
send Maggie to rap at his door?  Or is he so tired that you feel he]


nurse, + that is was horrid here.  We
shut the door, + then with her head 
leaning up against Elliot her natural
fun broke out, + she began to give us, 
half laughing + half crying, the most 
comical account of her adventures + of
the other patients.  She was lonesome + 
nervous; that was really what was the
matter.  I think Dr. Smith had tried to
do especially well by her, probably because
she was Aunt Ey's niece.  She had a good
sized room all to herself.  There were
three beds in it, but the other two were 
unoccupied; so, while she pays at the 
rate of a three bedded room instead of
a single one (i.e. ten dollars a week
 instead of $50.) she practically has a
room to herself.  It is on the top floor,
with three large windows + a beautiful 
view.  But there were three babies in the 
neighborhood who cried + kept her awake;
+ the nurse who turned off the gas in
her room had not turned it fully off, + 
she kept smelling it; + afterwards 
another nurse came in and sniffed, +
then held her candle up to the gas
burner, whereupon immediately the
gas blazed up; + the nurse intimated
that Flo had had a narrow

[* needs the rest?  I don't know whether it is customary for newspapers
to send in advance for long abstracts of an address. I should think it
was quite a compliment.  There were abstracts of Aunt B's in the*]escape, which naturally made Flo nervous;
& later her window came down with a bang;
& altogether she had had rather an uncomfortable
night. The next day she saw her fellow
patients, & disliked their society--says she
detests invalids; & one of them had
the tactlessness to point out to her a little 
wooden building near by, where they
put the dead bodies; & she could hear
the groans of a woman in labor, whose
husband & mother, not being allowed 
to be with her, prowled about trying to 
look in at the window; & one of the
patients told her she had just seen three
funerals go by, & F. then kept watch
& herself counted four more [in] within
about ten minutes. You see Sunday is
a favorite day for funerals, & Forest 
Hills Cemetery is not far from here.
Altogether she was feeling dismal; & 
she had taken a dislike to her nurse,
which made things worse. We saw the
nurse; she seemed a lively, good-natured
young woman, perhaps a trifle pert.
But Florence is a sociable creature, &
also I think rather a nervous one; & it
made her tremulous to sit by herself
trying to read novels but chiefly
thinking of a coming operation. Elliot

[*Women's Penny Paper & the Westminster & Lambeth Gazette, & I wondered
if they were the same abstract that you had so laboriously copied out.*]petted & cuddled her, & told her he would
bear it for her if he could, &c; & when we
came away he looked back at her window
as long as he could. -- Well, in the middle 
of the last sentence Dr. Smith walked into
the waiting room & informed us that it
was all over; she had made a thorough
examination, but had not thought it
best to operate at present. The trouble was
a small fibroid tumor, which lay embedded
in the wall of the uterus. Floy would have 
to take electrical treatment in order to extrude
it. To try to remove it now would
be a very dangerous operation; but it would
be a very simple one to do so, & not dangerous
at all, after it had been subjected
to a proper course of treatment; but that would
be likely to take several months. Floy
was getting over the ether, & would be well
enough to be taken home this afternoon. 
So, much relieved that it was no worse, 
we went into the city; & after doing
some errands there, I came home, 
& am now waiting for the carriage to 
arrive with Floy. Dr. Smith says she 
will need to take treatment twice a week,

[*Mamma informed me confidentially yesterday that Elliot was "a much finer
fellow than she had supposed." But she always thought well of him.*]but can just as well live at home & do what
she chooses, as to stay in hospital. It will 
be hard for Elliot to take care of himself
for several months; but we are all glad
that it did not prove to be anything worse.
Your letter of Oct. 1 & card of Oct. 8
came during the past week. You certainly
did not "make it clear" that if you & Aunt
B. crossed, you, with the dogs, would "make
straight for M.V." You said not one word
of any such intention; & hence the general 
impression in the family breast was that
the dogs would accompany the party to
El Mora, Dorchester, &c, & there is no denying
that the prospect was regarded with
some consternation. It seems a preposterous
idea that you should go to the Vineyard in
May & spend the whole time of your
visit there, acting as dry nurse to a 
couple of quadrupeds, instead of going
around to visit the various households
where you would be received with open
arms. It is like your self-sacrificing
disposition; but to sacrifice one's self
to a pair of spoiled dogs is a folly. 
However, if the dogs are to go to M.V

[*This east storm to-day makes her bones achey poor Mamma. Glad the 20
photos arrived safely. In haste, affectionately yours, Alice Stone Blackwell.*]

you will have no particular difficulty. 
The Old Colony R.R. allows dogs - I see 
them on the trains - & Florence says that
a great many hunting dogs are brought over
to the island by the summer visitors, so
there must be accommodations for them
on the boats. Floy and I both think that
the Vedder house, which is furnished
& commodious, will be the one most
likely to suit you & Aunt B. The chief
draw back to it is that it is so far
from all the Blackwells except Floy; 
but as Uncle G. has a horse, & you are a 
prodigious walker, that will not be so
serious an objection as it otherwise 
would.
Aunt Nettie has enjoyed her trip
to the West very much. She is supposed
to be in Salt Lake City to-day, & is expected
home in about a week. She wrote to
Uncle Sam from Denver that they "seemed
to be swept in a whirlpool of meeting, 
reception & meeting, till 11 at night." She
says: "We never had such a demonstration
as Denver is giving us. If we were 
royal visitors no more could be done.
This morning a carriage took several of us
to the High School, where we made little speeches
to splendid-looking pupils of a higher grade. Then
later 15 carriages set out in procession to escort
us to all the places of interest, including a brief
but grand organ performance in the cathedral.
To-morrow we spend the entire day in a
mountain railroad trip on a special train,
with [dignt] dignitaries to explain all matters
of interest; cost to the majority of the
round trip about half (of the ordinary) fare
one way; to me a free gift. The trip to the 
"Garden of the Gods" on Monday, to return by 
Wednesday, is less than 1/4 of the usual
fare. I shall see a good deal of the Rockies.
For the meeting, I never spoke better, & it
was so with most of the others. Everyone
seems content."  This morning I suppose
she listened to the preaching of a Mormon
elder. No danger of his converting her.
A letter received more recently from Uncle
S. says that she "refreshes us every day or
two with a fresh line of delight."
   The enclosed from Aunt Ellen
explains itself. I think it is not over weight.
  I wish Aunt B. would arrange to
be present at the next Woman's Congress.
They always have a good time. Mrs. Barrows
is back from California. I lunched at 
the Christian Register office the other day &
saw her. Your description of Miss Pertz (as
to her honesty, straightforwardness, & never
doing anything cowardly) made me think

Dorchester, Mass.
           Dec. 8, 1889
My dear Kitty:
  There is no further news
from El Mora, so we suppose
that all is going well. Agnes, or
some one, wrote that they cut a
slit five or six inches long in
Elliot's throat, & tied up the arteries, 
& then proceeded to pull &
peel till they got the goitre out, as
you would shell a pea out of a
pod. It was larger than an
egg.    Poor Aunt Ellen,
it seems, lost more by the
fire than Uncle Sam's brief
& rather cheerful account had
enabled us to realize. She writes 
(Dec. 2) "I suppose you have heard
of the terrible loss that has

[*would rather be thin than fat, of the two. It is much more convenient, 
for it leaves you free to skip about. I wish I could have
a slice of the Christmas pudding you will concoct. It is sure to
be the best in the family. But you will probably put brandy on it,
& my white ribbon would blush for me if I partook.*]come upon me. Last Tuesday night
my house at Lawrence was burnt
to the ground. A little furniture
was saved, in a dilapidated condition,
for which I have to pay bills
incurred by my agent. The accumulations
of my life mostly swept 
away. Books, pictures, papers,
letters, keepsakes, music, piano,
guitar, all gone, with all linen,
personal clothing, bedding etc.
I had carefully collected them all
& stored them in the large upper
room & locked it, so it all went
in a mess. I suppose I shall
get partial insurance on house,
none on furniture. Supposed
to be the work of a drunken
wretch trying to get coal. I am
sick with the discouragement."

[*A Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year, to all on that side
the sea, from all on this side!  Yours affectionately,
Alice Stone Blackwell.*]


[Pour] Poor Aunt Ellen! It is very
hard for her. I wish I could help,
but do not see quite what [to] I can 
do.  There is no special news
here. Papa & Mamma & Ethel are
about as usual. I suppose when
this reaches you, you will be
in the midst of your preparations
for Christmas. I wonder whom
you will invite this year, to
give them a good time in your
little 'haven of rest"! Wish I
could drop in, but in the
absence of the Flying Carpet of
the Arabian Nights, that can
hardly be. Papa has been
reviewing a great pile of books.
One came in the mail last 
night from France. As Papa
does not read French, I took
it to review; but it is immoral& extraordinary, & I don't see what possessed
anyone to send us such a book for
review. "Memoires de Cora Pearl"; did
you ever hear of it? It is the
autobiography of a woman who was a
professional courtesan--the first
thing of the kind I ever came across,
& I don't like it. The effrontery of the
writer is something surprising. How
it ever came to be sent to the Woman's
Journal is the mystery. Scott's novels
are greatly preferable.
   I will enclose something I
clipped last night from a Mississippi
paper, edited by a rather pleasant little
temperance woman whom I met
in Chicago. It made me shriek &
shriek with laughter. What there is
"airy" to "fairy" about me, except my
excessive leanness, it would be hard
to say. However, it was kindly meant;
but it was funny. I guess it is a case
like that of the woman in The Newcomes,
whose friends called her a fairy while her
enemies called her a skeleton. Well, I

Dorchester, Mass.
            Dec. 15, 1889.

My dear Kitty:
   We have had a scare about
Uncle Sam, but he is getting well.
Our first knowledge that he was ill
came in a letter from Aunt Ellen
dated Dec. 9. After saying that she
had an insurance of $4000. on the
house, & that the agent wanted her to
take $3500., but she saw no reason
for consenting to any reduction, she
continues: "I have just been spending
Sunday at El Mora, & am sorry
to report Sam as ill in bed with
what seems like an internal abscess
of the ear, but it is out of sight.
It is very painful, & Emily came
out & applied leeches behind the
ear, fearing the inflammation might
involve the bone. The poor fellow
is so pale & thin I grudged hislosing blood, but hope it may help
relieve the suffering. He had poultices
& hot water bottles applied all night,
Aunt Nettie nursing him devotedly.
Neenie knelt beside him trying to
help when the leeches were applied,
& the girls stood around eager to do
what they could, but he had a poor
night, & we are all anxious about 
him. Elliot too is not doing quite
as well as was hoped at first, but
they do not seem to apprehend
danger. So things are anxious now
for Aunt Nettie & her girls"
This letter arrived at breakfast,
& threw us all into uneasiness,
especially poor Ethel. But the same
day we got one from Aunt Emily,
less alarming. She said: "Sam
is at home with a gathering in
the ear. I heard he was not well,
& went out to see him yesterday.
Hope it may not amount to

much, but feel some anxiety because
he is not in good condition & has
such a proclivity to slow inflammations.
They do seem to have a nest
of troubles just now. Elliot is at the
Roosevelt Hospital. I took much
pains to find out what I could best
do for him. The operation was performed
by one of the very best surgeons
in N.Y. I was present. It
was very well done. He will come
out all right, I have no doubt."
The reports from El Mora all
the week have been improving:
Uncle Same himself wrote & said
that the "mastoid" was all right,
& the rest was yielding to a course
of poultices; he hoped to be out
in a few days. A card received 
this morning from Aunt Nettie
says: "S.C.B still improving, but
it seems to linger more slowlythan we had hoped.  Time is an
immense item very often, + especially
with him.  Elliot also doing well.
Fortunately this is not a very busy
time at the office, + assistants are
excellent."  Papa had offered to go +
take Uncle Sam's place with the
Mexican Telegraph Co. while he was ill.
     The girls report that Elliot
is now able to sit up a little, +
they are convinced that just as 
soon as he is able he will go to
waiting upon the other patients --
the pursuit in which he spent
the night before his operation.
     Aunt Ellen's fire was pretty
destructive.  She says: "there was a 
wonderful sweep [of] of all my possessions.
owing to the barn being
on fire last year, I took everything
of value pretty much out of the 
barn + locked them in my great
upper room, ready for a holocaust.

Innumerable things!  Half the edition
of both your Aunt E's books.  A box
of letters of hers from early days
to the present, with sketch of the
events of her life, with dates, that
she made at my request, her early 
photograph, all put away for a future
autobiography.  My beautiful guitar,
the piano, all my drawings + paintings,
house linen, curtains, photo
graphic albums etc.  A clean sweep --
but as you say, life + limb are 
worth more."
     There is no special news
here.  Uncle Bo + Aunt Martha
made us a 24 hours' visit from
West Brookfield.  Uncle Bo is
better, but very thin.  His illness 
has changed him more than
he had changed in years.
     Mrs. Lawrence is at Orange. 
I suppose almost all the French
novels I brought home from Paris were consumed in the fire.
They were lent to Aunt Ellen.
Fortunately, Les Misérables, Consuelo
+ the Mysteries of Paris
were here.
     I am very busy, + more
or less figetted getting up the
programme for the annual
meeting with Rachel Foster,
now Mrs. Avery.  She wants 
to have Susan Anthony arrange
everything, + propose to put
this + that into her hands, in
what seems to me quite an
improper way.  And she 
wants that horrid woman
Phoebe Couzins invited to speak
at the [area] meeting, which goes
against the grain with me
dreadfully.  However, I needn't
bother you with all that.
Affectionately yours,
Alice Stone Blackwell.


Dorchester, Mass.
Dec. 22, 1889
My dear Kitty:
     I enclose a batch of family
letters.  In Uncle G's, you must
take his rather dismal picture of the
family health with a good deal of
allowance.  Both Uncle Sam +
Elliot were improving at last accounts.
they hoped that Elliot
would be at El Mora to-day, though
at last accounts he still had to
wear a tube in his throat.  The 
Mexican Telegraph Co. has behaved
very amiably to Uncle Sam, sent
him a letter expressing the highest
appreciation of his services, + 
telling him he could stay at home
three of four weeks longer if
necessary, + get perfectly well; which
of course is gratifying to all of 
them.  One of the young men

[*No special news.  Some newspapers in Chilliothe are maligning 
our friend Anna Shaw, + mother + I are very mad about it.  
Affectionately yours,
Alice Stone Blackwell.*]from the office came out to see
him a few days ago. Grace was
in her father's room, + had on
an old gown. She heard them 
bringing the young man up to
see Uncle Sam, + she did not 
know which door they would 
come in by, + so did not know
how to escape, although she
did not want to be seen in
her old dress. So she shipped
into the ward-robe + shut the 
door. Would you believe it, that 
young man stayed + talked
to Uncle Same an hour + a 
half, Grace crouching all
that time in the wardrobe!
I should have thought she 
would be used up with
cramps + smotheration, but
apparently she was not, for


no sooner did the young man
go downstairs than Grace whisked
out of her old dress + into another,
+ went down to the parlor [and]
helped Aunt Nettie + Agnes
entertain him!
         Your [lette] letter of 
   Nov. 1 - Dec. 6 came a few
days ago, + was very welcome. 
I guess there was no choice
but to have Elliot operated on or
let him smother. It wasn't
a real goitre, it seems, but a 
sort of cyst, which was choking
him more + more. Cold 
+ damp seemed to affect it
especially. Ethel says when
he went out to take care of the
cows in the cold misty early
morning, he used to breathe
very hard when he came in. 
Anyway, they took the very bestadvice before deciding to have it done.
And he had already been treating it
for a good while - several years, I
think - notwithstanding which it
grew worse.               I am disappointed
to hear that you and Aunt B. are not
likely to come over.  I believe those 
wretched dogs are at the bottom of it, 
+ I wish they were both translated to 
Kingdom Come.  I came across a 
New Year's card the other day that 
represented three dogs sitting on a 
pier + gazing out upon the water. 
If it had not been too late, I should
have sent it to you, as representing
the two brown bores, with a 
friend, gazing after your departing
ship.  They had another vivisection
at Tech. the other day.  When Ethel
mentioned it, I abruptly departed
+ left her, telling her I did not
feel as if I wanted to stay in
the same room with her. If I
had stopped to think, I should
have disguised my indignation + pumped
her for particulars for Aunt B. 


Dorchester, Mass.
Dec. 29, 1889
My dear Kitty:
             The enclosed letters give all 
the family news.   We had a 
quiet Christmas, with a few
guests - Miss Ida Joe Brooks of
Arkansas, Miss Cora Bennson
of Illinois, my old friend Lucy
Wheelock of Chauncy Hall, who
has developed into a great authority
on kindergarten teaching;
+ Mrs. Adkinson with her little
June. Papa presented me (by
request) with Mr. Cable's last book,
+ Mrs. Barrows sent me a 
delightful big photo of her husband
sitting on his white horse
Schuyler - looking just as I have
seen him so often, riding about
the country. Each of Ethel's 
kin at home sent her a dollar

[*is sitting on the opposite side of the table + keeps wanting
to read aloud to me choice passages from an article by Labouchere
in
the Foreign.
In haste,
affectionately
yours,
Alice Stone Blackwell.*]bill, with some comical + appropriate
label -- probably as satisfactory a 
present as could have been given
her.  Papa received a letter from
Mrs. Johns of Kansas, enclosing [a]
one from Chief Justice Horton
of that State, which tickled Papa
immensely, more than all his
Christmas presents put together,
because the Chief Justice intimated,
as clearly was consistent with
judicial propriety, that if we
can get the Legislature to pass a 
bill giving women full suffrage
by statute, the Supreme Court
will sustain the law.  This 
has long been a pet scheme of
Papa's, + he was hugely delighted.
But he has mislaid Judge
Horton's letter, + has been 
turning the house upside down
looking for it, but thus far

in vain.  He declared that he is 
now convinced of the existence of
a personal devil, as he cannot
account in any other way for "the
diabolical facts of the universe" --
i.e. for the mysterious disappearance
of that letter.  He has rummaged 
in every hole + corner, +
is in despair.  He offers $50 to
anybody who will find it.
     We have one doleful
piece of business on hand.
Don't mention it to anybody for
anything -- but our poor little
Mrs. Vogl, who has had charge
of our advertising for so many
years, has fallen into habits of
drinking, + it has gone so far
that it seems necessary to
tell her, as gently as possible,
that she will have to go to an


Inebriates' Home somewhere + be cured.
I don't believe she will be willing to go;
but we have borne with her a long
time, knowing that her affection for
mother + her interest in the Journal's fortunes
kept her up; until now she has
made so many scenes in the 
office + exposed herself before so
many people that it seems as if
something must be done.  It is a 
painful piece of business.  We are
sorry for her, + we are disturbed
about the Journal's financial outlook,
for she has a wonderful
gift for getting advertisements --
nobody whom we ever employed as
advertising agent could come near
her at that -- and it will be a 
great hole in our income when
she gives up.  Poor little woman!
She is so good + so nice in many
ways, it is a most dreadful pity
that she should [e] ever have got into
such a habit.  If this letter is
incoherent, lay it to the fact that Papa


freely -- she never even
hinted that she thought 
Aunt B. would be likely to
make trouble for her by
anything she might
say about vivisection.
[Why de]  Mother + I think
just as Aunt B. does about
the vivisecting; + from the
way Aunt Ey talked when
Dr. Tut + I had that little
shindy, I should fancy
that she (Aunt Ey) did not greatly 
favor vivisection either.
     No special news from 
the invalids.  I will notify
you at once if we hear of
any important change.  Wasn't
it good that Elliot could keep
Xmas with the family after all?

[*We were disappointed of our expected visit from Aunt Ey;
she couldn't get away.  Practice, I suppose.  yet she says that
both her practice + Dr. Cushier's is falling off.*]Office of
The Woman's Journal,
No. 3 Park Street,
Boston, Dec. 30 1889
P.P.S. Your & Aunt B's letters
of Dec. 21 came this morning.
We all think that Aunt Emily's
not answering Aunt B's
letter is no sign that she
does not want her to come.
She is extremely apt to
have letters unanswered
through pure negligence
or absent-mindedness.
In all my talk with 
Aunt Ey about Aunt B's
coming over - & I think
she talked with me very