BLACKWELL FAMILY ALICE STONE BLACKWELL KITTY BARRY 1896 Office of The Woman's Journal No. 3 Park Street. (dictated) Boston, Feb. 26, 1896 My dear Kitty: It is a long time since I have written you a letter, and I ought to have my ears boxed; but there has not been much family news, and I have been very, very busy. Last week, however I made a short visit to New York and saw the kith and kin; so now there is something to write. I arrived by the Fall River boat, and went straight to Aunt Emily's. I found her taking her breakfast in bed. She goes down to all the other meals but not for breakfast, partly because the house is not quite warm then, and partly because she likes her breakfast a little earlier than the others She was looking well, plump, and fairy rosy. She said that she was feeling well also. Her cough had left her. It2 had only just left her, but its absence was a great relief. I did not realize what a distressing time she has had. She says that for a month every night was like descending into hell, and that her cough would seize her and shake her as a terrier does a rat. She now feels all right, but does not venture out, because she is strongly advised to stay in the house until the mild weather comes. Her voice is a little hoarse, but otherwise she seems quite well. Nannie is learning to do the marketing. She came to Aunt Emily before starting out, and I heard Aunt Emily tell her to "look as learned as possible," and make the man let her see him weigh the meat. Aunt Emily also gave her some instructions as to the appearance and quantity of the meat. Nannie has also joined a debating club, and they were going to debate the Monroe doctrine in Aunt Emily's parlor that afternoon. Nannie was not to take part, but she was studying up the question in order to listen intelligently. Aunt Emily was much tickled at the idea of Nannie's doing it. She said it would be like a kitten discussing the Monroe doctrine, since Nannie's interests have been almost 3 Office of The Woman's Journal No. 3 Park Street Boston, ___________ 189 entirely musical and athletic, and she she has known nothing about politics. Still, we all think it will be good for her. She looks perfectly well. The operation has left no trace, and she can never have appendicitis again, which is a comfort. I spent the morning with Aunt Emily, and after lunch went out to Brooklyn to address the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Association. Afterwards I took dinner with Mrs. Mariana Chapman at her beautiful home, and finding that she and her husband were going in to one of Aaron Powell's conferences in the evening, I decided to go with them, expecting to find Uncle Sam or Aunt Nettie there, or at any rate to be able to get exact directions for finding their house. It was a stormy evening, an Mrs. Powell said Uncle Sam had been at their committee meeting in the afternoon but had said he should not be back in the evening.4 Accordingly I obtained directions for finding their new house and took a car which would carry me to the corner of 64th Street. I counted the numbers, and reaching a house which I thought should be the one, I mounted a flight of curving stone steps and looked in through the glass of the door. Seeing a large picture of flowers as it seemed (it proved afterwards to be cotton-balls), I thought "probably some of the girls painted that"; and was confirmed in my belief it was the right house. I rang the bell. Presently Edie appeared coming to open the door; then I knew I had reached shelter. They were all surprised to see me, [and] but welcomed me most hospitably. The spare room was ready, as I had learned from Nannie. The house was still a good deal upside down, but it is a pleasant house, and they all think it is going to prove very satisfactory. I greatly doubted the wisdom of their moving into New York, but after seeing the house and seeing their satisfaction in it, I am entirely reconciled. It is eighteen feet wide, with two large rooms, on back and one front, and a hall between on each floor, with slight 5 Office of The Woman's Journal, No. 3 Park Street. Boston, ________________ 189 modifications. In the basement are the kitchen and dining-room, both good-sized rooms. Aunt Nettie also took me down cellar. They have a good-sized one, and the same Thomas that they used to have at Hillside was there sawing wood or otherwise helping. Aunt Nettie says that while she was away last summer Gracie put up all the fruit she could lay hands on, and they had to pack a barrel and two boxes with it, may be more, when they moved into town. There it was. I hastily counted about seventy-five large jars, and there were two boxes of jelly beside. On the floor above the basement the large front room is a parlor, and the large back room Edie's office; a square hall between the two is to be used as a waiting room for Edie's patients. As the parlor doors are only poitieres, it is suggested that while the patients are waiting they will be able to overhear all the6 conversation that goes on in the parlor; but if anything confidential is to be said, I suppose the visitors can be taken up stairs. On the next floor the big front room is a reception-room, and the big back room the spare chamber where they put me to sleep. There are nice closets and dressing-rooms attached, and a bath-room on the same floor. The next floor is devoted especially to Uncle Sam and Aunt Nettie, and Aunt Nettie chuckles in her sleeve to think that the girls may have patients below, and artistic visitors alone, but that floor will be sacred to herself and Uncle Sam. The big back room is their bedroom an the big front room their study. The big front room on the top floor belongs to Grace. One of the two little rooms behind is for the girl, the other for Agnes, and the square hall between with a skylight is to be Agnes's studio. There is no place left for Ethel, but when she comes home I [believe] suppose they will have to devote one of the three reception rooms to her. Edie sleeps in her office, and the bed becomes a divan in the daytime. She looks as sweet as ever. I do like 7 Office of The Woman's Journal, No. 3 Park Street, Boston, _______________ 189 Edie. Aunt Nettie and Uncle Sam were looking as well as usual, though of course they were tired with moving. Aunt Nettie said it was the first day she had had a chance to sit down and read anything for weeks. I felt it an imposition to go and stay with them while they were all so tired, but it is infinitely more comfortable to a shy Blackwell to harbor with one's own clan than to dwell in the tents of the most gorgeous Midianitee, like the Brooklyn friends who had invited me to stay with them. There is a nice back yard, and Aunt Nettie expects to garden in it. Central Park begins right at the corner of the street, and Uncle Sam already enjoys walking there with the girls. The air in that part of the city, blowing up from the river over Central Park, is supposed to be particularly pure, and Uncle Sam is able to start for his business in the morning an hour later than he8 used to when they were at El. Mora. The house is a very nice one to get at, being easily accessible from everywhere by lines of cars. I think it is a very pleasant house and will be still more so when it is fully set in order. They have not had to buy any new furniture except a sofa and portieres for the parlor and the furniture for Edie's office. Each of the girls is allowed to have whatever she wants of the old furniture for her room, but anything that she wants for it in addition, she must buy herself. Gracie is already teaching drawing to some children who live across the way; in fact, she was teaching them before Uncle Sam bought this house. Agnes is taking lessons in oil painting, intending to devote herself to portraits. She has painted a large portrait of Aunt Nettie which I think is a good likeness. It is generally approved of though Aunt Nettie herself considers it idealized. It is infinitely better than the horrid monstrosity which Roland Perry has painted of Aunt Emily. It is utterly hideous, with just a hint of resemblance which is enough to make it worse. It looks a little 9 Office of The Woman's Journal, No. Park Street. Boston, _________________189 like Edie in a frightfully cross state of mind, although Edie is very pretty and it is shockingly ugly. Agnes has not yet moved in from her flat, but says she expects to do so soon. Uncle Sam says he shall not provide her with a latch-key until she does She arrived before I left. She had come over to put up curtains and help about house-cleaning, and so was not arrayed for calling, but I wanted her to go with me to see a handsome young Armenian lady who has lately married an Armenian merchant in New York and feels rather lonesome for her family in Constantinople. Lo Agnes good-naturedly slipped off her waist and into a silk one, and came away with me, looking as fresh as a rose. I was quite tickled at having two such pretty cousins to introduce to Mrs. Gulbenkian, who could with difficulty be persuaded that they were my cousinsand not my nieces. Aunt Nettie says she is quite sure that from a financial point of view the moving is a good step. If they rent their El Mora house they will have only a hundred dollars a year more to pay than they had before, except that living in New York will undoubtedly be more expensive. But on the other hand this house is one that they could always sell or rent. If anything happened to Uncle Sam or Aunt Nettie, the girls could also rent rooms to art students who swarm in the neighborhood, and the girls would find it a much more manageable place to handle than the other house out in the country. So says Aunt Nettie. Aunt Emily says that Aunt Ellen seems to grow only more cheerful as she grows older and deafer; that she enjoys life fully as much as anybody who is better off in externals, and that that cheerful disposition seems to have been bestowed upon her as a compensation for [the] many other drawbacks. She never has the smallest question in her mind as 11 Office of The Woman's Journal, No. 3 Park Street. Boston, ____________________189 to whether life is worth living, but is full of interest in things and enjoys herself thoroughly. Aunt Emily thinks she has been very fortunate to get a little place satisfactory to herself so near New York for a thousand dollars. Her actual expenditure is not likely to exceed that. She comes up about once in ten days to see about Aunt Emily and change her library book, take lunch with them and returns. Her good Maggie, to whom she has given a home in the cottage for so many years, is very grateful and affectionate, and does many little things for her. Her dinner is partly cooked on their kitchen fire, or perhaps I should rather say they cook things for her when she wants them. I am told that she is afflicted about Uncle Sam's new house, says it is only an attachment to a doctor's office; but I don't 12 think the doctor's office will disturb the family. Grace went out to do the marketing while I was there, and she and Aunt Nettie were preparing to get a new girl. Aunt Nettie was about to start for the intelligence office. The girl they had, had been a great trial to Gracie, and I think she must be rather stupid, for in the morning I went down to the basement looking for the dining-room and got into the kitchen instead. I asked [her] the girl where the breakfast room was, but could get nothing out of her except assurances that she would bring the breakfast in immediately. My protestations that I did not wish to hurry her and my repeated inquiries where the dining-room was, seemed to make no impression upon her. A little later Grace came down, and finding the breakfast on the table before the family were ready, asked the girl the reason. She said that "Miss Edith "had come down and told her to put it on. I felt quite flattered at being taken for Edith, even in a darkened kitchen by a very flurried girl; but I guess she did not even look at me, only at her pots and pans. 13 Office of The Woman's Journal, No. 3 Park Street. Boston, ____________________189 Grace was looking pretty well, as were the rest of the family. Papa and I are about as usual, busier than usual this week because of hearings coming off before the Legislature. You may imagine how busy I am from the fact that I have not had an Armenian to dinner for more than a month. As that is my chief relaxation and entertainment, I have to be pretty hard driven when I do without it. We are glad to hear such good accounts of Aunt Marian's handmaiden. Isn't it lucky that she has so nice a girl! I attended a big single-tax dinner last Saturday, at William Garrison's invitation. It was a most enthusiastic gathering. The single-taxers are the most ardent people I know.14 I hope you are all flourishing, and that you don't think I care any less for you than I used to because I so seldom find time to write. Uncle George and Emma were in just now. I told them I was dictating a letter to Kitty, and asked them if they had any message to send. Emma asked me to tell you that she has brought Uncle George in to have his photograph taken. That it had been taken with great care, about twelve different times, in the hope of getting a thoroughly pleasant expression, and that she hoped some one at least of the negatives would be successful. Papa intimated that he thought by the time Uncle George was having his twelfth sitting he must have been ready to look very cross. Uncle George says they are having a number of very nice lectures at Cambridge, and he and Emma tried to [induce] entice us to attend some of them. But we could not go. Papa has promised to go there to dinner on Sunday, however, which [may] will ease [his] my conscience, as I am going to Worcester to speak at an Armenian meeting 15 Office of The Woman's Journal, No. 3 Park Street. Boston, ____________________189 and I don't like to leave him all alone. Emma is teaching a mission class of five or six little girls to sew. She and Uncle George were both looking well and seemed happy. Yours affectionately, Alice Stone Blackwell. P.S. Florence expects to go to New York in April to see her family, and has written them that she expects to be quite dazzled by the style of the house, a remark with which Agnes was highly tickled.Office of The Woman's Journal, No. Park Street. Boston, April 5 1896 My dear Kitty: This is Easter Sunday, and a beautiful sunny day. We expect Ada Watson, but have not arranged for any special festivities. Yesterday evening we dined at Cambridge. We have got into the way of going out there about four or five o'clock Saturday afternoon, & leaving at 8:30, which gets us home about ten. Uncle George had just had a letter from Aunt Emily, in which she said she now considered herself well, only whenever she puts her nose outside the door it makes her cough. The spring winds are pretty bleak, & it is no doubt wiser for her to stay in. Emma & Uncle G. held forth last night upon the uselessness & dangers of vaccination, & Emma read aloud to us from the encyclopedia upon the subject. Papa stood up for vaccination; & Howard seemed inclined to side with him. Howard's friend Ned Bishop has been visiting him, but has now gone home. Papa met the two the other day in the elevator at the State House, when he was there on women suffrage business. Howard was showing Ned the building. It is too bad about the scarlet fever in Aunt Ellen's Orange house. I am afraid it will prevent her letting it. Florence is going to N. Y. pretty soon, & wants to time Office of The Woman's Journal No. 3 Park Street Boston.......................189 her visit so as to be there when I go down to see Beth off on the steamer. I am rather sorry she (Beth) is going just in spring, for she knows more about what ought to be done in the garden than any of the rest of us - Mr. Kilian said she was "always at his heels" when he was working about the garden - & she could have shown Barsam, who is very industrious & willing, but does not know much about a garden. He has succeeded in raising celery as well as Mr. Kilian himself, though. I wish Aunt Mariam lived next door, to assist us withher advice & her taste. Under her directions, Barsam would make our weedy wilderness blossom like the rose. It was very interesting about Johannesburg, & I was tempted to make extracts [for] (anonymously, of course) for some of the papers. But I did not get around to it. My own interest in the Transvaal & in Cuba is very faint compared with my interest in Armenia; but the general public seems more worked up about the two former. The bill to license houses of ill fame was defeated almost unanimously in our Legislature, as you will have seen by the Journal. I went to the gallery & took notes of the debate. It was a short one. Mr. Keenan seemed to feel that he was speaking under a weight of disapprobation. I dare say he may be a well meaning man. I am putting in my mornings [*in work on Mamma's biography. Then between 12 & 1 I go to the city, take lunch at the Register Office, read the day's mail, look after the Journal &c. There are a pile of anti-suffrage articles sent to m from various quarters to be answered, some of which have been waiting for weeks & even months. I am prodigiously busy & seldom have any company now. Affy,] [*Alice Stone Blackwell*] Office of The Woman's Journal, No. Park Street. Boston, May 1 1896 My dear Kitty: Yesterday I was much pleased to receive a plump letter from you. I can't answer it at length just now, being unable for various reasons to get at my secretary: but I enclose a lively letter from Floy. You will want to hear about Ethel. The memorandum at the top was for Papa, who took the letter over to Cambridgeto show Uncle G. & Emma. I am sending the programme of the Chickatawbut Club, for the sake of Papa's picture. They made him have it taken. When your last letter came, I inquired of Papa about that portrait of Grandma on china. He says it is over at Cambridge. It was brought to Uncle G's & has remained there. The next time I go over I mean to bring it home. Many thanks. I don't remember how it came to be taken to Cambridge instead of Pope's Hill. Probably because Aunt Nettie stayed there. The family like better to stay there than here when visiting Boston, partly because Uncle G's house is [*so very conveniently situated as regards the cars, & getting everywhere. Uncle Sam says men of the most diverse character & occupations read Aunt B's autobiography with great interest & speak of it with pleasure. He is enthusiastic about the book. Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell.*] Office of The Woman's Journal, No. Park Street. Boston, [A] May 6 1896 My dear Kitty: I write for the sake of sending the latest news about Ethel, thinking you may be anxious. Day before yesterday Papa & I went to Gardner, where Uncle Frank & Aunt Harriet were visiting Uncle Henry & Aunt Sarah. We spent one night there & yesterday afternoon returned,bringing Uncle Frank & Aunt Harriet with us. He is 89 but still spry & cheery. At Gardner he reminisced, & Papa took the reminiscences down in a note-book. Yesterday morning Papa & I climbed Doctor's Hill, which now belongs to Uncle George, & ate checkerberries, & enjoyed the beautiful view, the soft wind, the buddng leaves of the trees, & the warm sun on our backs. I am very fond of Gardner, & always enjoy a sight of old Monadnock. Mrs. Lawrence seems very well, & Uncle Harry grows handsomer as he grows grayer. Uncle Frank says [*Maria Barlow's mother was a very conservative woman, & Maria [takes] is supposed to take after her. I have not time for a letter; this is just a scratch. Yours affec[to]tionately, Alice Stone Blackwell.*] Office of The Woman's Journal, No. Park Street. Boston, May 8 1896 My dear Kitty: I have delayed this letter hoping to enclose in it one from Clara Barlow, which has got mislaid. This morning came yours announcing Paul's engagement, which quite took my breath away. Emma has it now - the letter, not the breath. It seems likely to be a more satisfactory connection than the J. N. one would have been. It somewhat lowers my opinion of the discretion of both of [* nice people, I think you have fair grounds for hoping that it will turn out well. When I read your letter aloud to Papa, & came to your remark that "a young man does not want to marry a problem," Papa said, "He will, though, if he marries a woman; & so will she if she married a man." At present Paul is of course at the height of bliss, & I don't wonder you*]them that they should have become engaged with 48 hours of their first meeting each other; but some of those sudden attachments do turn out very happily, and we will hope this will be one. Also, I remember Mrs. Barrows says she met her present husband for the first time at the breakfast table at Dansville & that if he had proposed to her immediately after breakfast, she would have accepted him. Besides, it is not as if Paul & Ethel had not known about each other, though the acquaintance between the families. A young lady brought up in Galway ought to be simple & unspoiled, & as she comes of [* are happy through sympathy. A young man with an honorable past deserves a good wife, & I heartily hope Ethel Persse may make him one. Is her name pronounced Peirce or Percy? Not much matter, as she will soon change it! ] [*Yours affectionately, Alice Stone Blackwell.*] Dorchester, Mass. [J] Aug. 16, 1896. Dear Kitty: Your card & Aunt B's letter are received; also the envelope of clippings, for which many thanks. But the letter which you said you had forwarded back to me at the same time has not come. I am afraid it required postage. Beth got home Saturday night safe & sound, not so fat as I could have wished to see her, & looking rather hollow under the eyes; but well sunburned by the voyage, & very glad to get home. Uncle Sam & Aunt Nettie arrived the same evening. They have been to Portland, & spent a week at the Vineyard. Tomorrow they go back to Portland, & after a day or two there, take the boat for N. Y. They report Florence as improved in health on the whole [*to help her. I had no Armenian callers last Sunday, & felt the day a somewhat doleful one in consequence. I'm a little bit of a monomaniac, & no mistake. Have had letters from *]She took advantage of Aunt Nettie's presence to get her help in persuading Elliot to have out some troublesome fragment & roots of teeth, preparatory to a new set. He has been dreading it a long time, but finally had it done. A line from Florence reports his face as a good deal swollen & painful. They fear he caught cold in it riding back up the island after leaving Uncle S. & Aunt N. at the Portland boat. But he says it is a great relief to have it over. They had a big thunder-storm, & the widow Vincent's house had been struck, but not much damaged. The school committee has hired a 15 year old boy to teach the school on No Man's Land, much to Floy's disgust. She says it was simply for the sake of giving him the [* two of them today, however, which is better than nothing. Affectionately yours, Alice Stone Blackwell *] salary. The pupils are his brothers & sisters, & his uncle is on the school board. Edith is the only member of the 64th St. household now at home. She has to stay for some of her patients who are expecting babies. She seems to have taken no harm from the great heat, & writes that she & the girl can get on very well; but she warns the others not to come back into it. She has made 8605 words out of a sentence, in hopes to get a bicycle which is offered as a prize by some paper to the person making the largest number of words out of that sentence; so she cannot be completely wilted. Aunt Nettie says Edith is now the happiest most contented of the daughters at home, having found her niche. Her practice grows slowly but steadily, & she has begun to lay by money. She now hasmore money in the bank than Grace. Agnes is staying with friends at Newport, N. Y.; Grace at York, where Edith expects to go when she is able to get away. Aunt N. says Agnes is working hard at her painting, & is earning something. Aunt N. & Uncle Sam have told the girls that this year they must begin to pay for their summer outings out of their own pockets; & they are pleased & amused to see how much more economical it has made them in their summer plans. Ethel is at Kennebunkport. She began to go out & sit in the park a little too soon after her illness, & caught a little cold in her back, which has set given her some achiness in the lower part of it; but on the whole she " is thought to be progressing satisfactorily. Aunt N. says Grace is better than she has been for years. Uncle Sam & Aunt Nettie are looking very well, except that Uncle Sam let the lid of a desk fall on his forehead just before leaving home, & bears the mark of Cain on his brow in the shape of a good sized piece of black court-plaster. Aunt Netie expresses her intention of living to be 90, & looks likely enough to do it. Ethel writes from Kennebunkport in high spirits. She & her friends had been fishing off the rocks, & had caught 24 fish, besides skates & sculpins, & had provided three families with a Sunday morning breakfast. Aunt N. says that when Ethel was out of her mind with typhoid fever, she thought she had made wonderful discoveries in astronomy, presented her professors withastronomical charts. When she came back to her right mind, she was quite disappointed to find it was an illusion. They say that undesirable entanglement with Mr. Bailey is entirely at an end, which is a blessing. Another young man, whom they like, is now the more favored. Papa has got Cornelia a good second-hand bicycle for $25.50, so I suppose she & Aunt Ellen are happy. Uncle George, Emma, Howard & Anna are reported to have fallen in love with the Vineyard all over again. They are reshingling the G. D. S., roof & walls, & are preparing to put in new window frames & windows, & are variously beautifying it. Aunt Nettie is much pleased, for Floy's sake, that they seem to enjoy it so much, are likely to keep on coming down there. Emma & the children greatly enjoy the bathing. Uncle G. does not care for it. Florence has a quantity of pink yarrow in her yard, very pretty, & Emma has transplanted a root of it to the G. D. S. So Aug. 13 was the great day for Paul & Ethel! In due time I shall expect an account of the wedding. Aug. 13 was Mamma's birthday. I celebrated it by writing nine letters about woman suffrage - or rather the same letter to nine different papers. I thought Mamma would have liked that way of keeping the day. I did not say anything about the day to Papa, thinking he probably did not remember it (he seldom did when Mamma was alive), & that it would only make him melancholy to remind him. The next day I spoke of it, & found that he had been thinking about it all day, & that he hadsupposed I had forgotten, & felt rather blue about that! This has been a lovely day - much cooler - & Papa took Uncle Sam & Aunt Nettie & me over to the crematory, to show them Mamma's urn. No special news. Papa is not strong. I notice it especially in the great difficulty he has in getting off his boots every evening. Sometimes it almost seems as if he could not do it. But his sore shin is much better. I think it must have been the daily salt bath on shipboard that irritated it & made it worse. His general health also seems to be fairly good. We now have apples, blackberries, peaches, & our own corn & beans & cucumbers, very nice & fresh. Lizzie was made half ill by the great heat. I am glad Beth is back Office of The Woman's Journal, No. 3 Park Street. Boston, Sept. 25 1896 My dear Kitty: I began a letter to you last Monday, but have somehow mislaid it, & if I don't write to-day it will be too late to wish you many happy returns of Oct 5, & increasing happiness with revolving years. Aunt Emily went home yesterday. She looks well but loses breath easily. She means to stay in N. Y. the first part of the winter, & then takesteamer from N. Y. for Italy via the Mediterranean, & go to Florence & Rome with Nannie. Uncle G. has moved into the house of the Greek professor at 5 Follen St. Cambridge. It is described as handsomer & more modern than the one they have had, but not quite so cheerful & homelike. They are all well. Howard is at Gardner; has lately returned from N. Y. & N. J., where he visited Uncle Sam's family & Ned Bishop. He hired a tandem bicycle & took Office of The Woman's Journal, No. Park Street. Boston, _____________189 Ethel on it, & Nannie accompanied them on her own & [E] Agnes on one she hires by the month, & they went about 15 miles up the Hudson, & were caught in a shower, & effected a burglarious entrance into a big deserted house & ate their lunch there. Howard seems to think they had a [* Chronicle. *] perfectly beautiful time. Aunt Ellen & Aunt Eliza don't know just when they will come back from Dorset; it will depend on the weather. If it grows cold & keeps cold, it will drive them away. Papa seems about as usual; Papa's daughter ditto. Please thank Aunt B. for her letter & tell her I shall answer it soon. In haste, affectionately, Alice Stone Blackwell You are an angel to send me so many cuttings from the [*Chronicle.*] Office of The Woman's Journal, No. Park Street. Boston, Dec. 6 1896 Dear Kitty: No news this week. Papa has been speaking at a good many meetings, & on the whole enjoys it. Last night he spoke at a [meeting] dinner of the Massachusetts Club, a Republican club [here] in Boston. He says he made a very good speech, & I don't doubt it. Howard was present, by Papa's invitation, & enjoyed himself very much, & then they went over to Cambridge together, & had quite a family party there, as Phebe Stone Beeman is visiting Emma, with her husband [* He has just been vituperating me because I sent Aunt B's letter to him on to Floy, although not until he had heard it carefully read aloud from beginning to end. I suppose I ought not to have done it. Tell Aunt M. I will see that Floy gets one of those photos of the two aunts & their houses. How are Paul & Ethel?*]and one of her sons. They are coming to visit us this week. We entertained Mrs. Rachel Foster Avery during the executive meeting of the Woman's National Council. She is a nice woman, & though I feel as if I never could forgive her[e] for making up the Programme of the World's Congress of Representative Women without Mamma - a most outrageous thing, though Mamma didn't worry about it - I should like her, but for that. And that was due to Susan Anthony's influence over her. She adores Miss Anthony. A queer thing is that she is greatly in love with a book called "The Power of Silence," setting forth a philosophy of life which she has embraced with enthusiasm; yet she talks in a perpetual stream! Office of The Woman's Journal, No. Park Street. Boston, _____________189 It is a book relating to "mental healing," or "Christian Science." She wants me to read it, & declares it has done her no end of good. Papa has a new overcoat, & looks 100% better for it. I want him to give the old one to an Armenian, but he[r] insists that he shall give it to Uncle Frank. I should rather have Uncle Frank have it, of course, if I thought he needed one; but we have no reason to suppose he does. Papa is just drawing on his shoes, to go down to the P. O. & buy 300 postal cards, which he has promised to [* You have told me nothing about them lately. I shall always feel better acquainted with P. since you let me read those letters of his. To us, with snow on ] [*the ground, it seems odd to hear of a tamarind tree in pink blossom under your window. I wish Aunt Emily were in Hastings. We have no further news from her. Affy, Alice Stone Blackwell.*]have printed and send to all the registered women voters of Somerville, urging them to vote for our friend Stella Hall as a member of the school committee. As he sat meditating, with one shoe off & the other on, just now, I asked him what he was thinking about, & he answered, "The devil on two sticks." Ethel has sent two long letters home, which Floy forwarded to me & I to Emma. She has had a jolly time, of course; and my old friend Eliza Putnam Heaton & her husband went over on the same steamer, & they & Ethel & her friend were planning to do some travelling together. Papa thinks "Humane Science" is an excellent name for those lectures, & an excellent idea.