BLACKWELL FAMILY 
ALICE STONE BLACKWELL           Kitty Barry                           Apr.-July 1897
P.S. A line just rec'd from Uncle 
Sam says Ethel has arrived safe and sound. 

OFFICE OF 
THE WOMAN'S JOURNAL, 
NO. 3 PARK STREET. 

BOSTON, April 26, 1897

My dear Kitty: We are all torn 
up with house cleaning, and I
am writing in the topmost
hall, to which I have been 
obliged to retreat with my 
work. Luckily, Papa has spent 
the day in the city, & has not felt
the usual spring earthquake. 
Lizzie, Beth, Michael Casey, & 
an assistant have been busy, & lots 
of dust & dirt have been removed, 
& benzine has been plentifully
applied for the destruction of 
buffalo bugs, and I have gone
down from time to time & made
encouraging comments, & tried
to look as if I knew something
about it. I should have twice as
much respect for myself if I werereally a good housekeeper. But Lizzie
& Beth keep Papa comfortable, & that 
is the main thing.  He has bought a
considerable tract of land in Atlantic, 
(not the green hill; Uncle G. disapproved
of that), & he is much pleased with 
what seems to him a very good 
bargain.  Poor Lizzie Hooper
was here yesterday to consult us, pale
as clay, gasping with heart-trouble
from having walked up the hill, &
looking as if she hadn't long to 
live - & she thinks she hasn't. She 
is in the most extraordinary scrape.
A Dr. Williamson in Connecticut, 
who keeps a private hospital
for epileptics, persuaded her twelve
years ago to enter into a private
marriage, alleging that he was
engaged in litigation which would
make it inconvenient for him 
to announce it just then.  She
supposed it would be announced
in a few weeks, but he has 
refused to announce it from 
that day to this, constantly 
saying that he would announce

OFFICE OF 
The Woman's Journal, 
No. 3 Park Street
it when he got ready and not 
before   [BOSTON 189]
He is a tyrant, & she is weak, &
has been completely under his
thumb.  Her boy, now 11 years
old, is brought up as the 
doctor's son, but not as
hers, & is not allowed to know
that she is his mother. 
The doctor was a widower
with daughters when he entered
into his present relations
with Lizzie, & he passes the 
boy off as his son by a 
former marriage.  Lizzie
has lately discovered that the
private marriage, though it
would have been legal in 
N.Y., is not legal in Conn.;
and , in addition, that hehad a second wife living at
the time he married her! This
second wife was a rich woman, 
who became convinced that
he had married her for her
money, & left him after they
had been married only a 
week.  That was why he did 
not dare to make public his
marriage with Lizzie. Lizzie
can't find out whether this 
second wife is alive or dead. 
To fill up the complication, 
the doctor is devotedly attached
to their boy, & insists that 
he will keep him, & defies
Lizzie to take him.  Since the 
marriage was invalid, she 
has the sole legal right to the
child; but she is penniless &
ill, & that rascal knows it &
presumes on it. Also the 
boy is much attached to his
father, & Lizzie can't bear the
idea of taking him away
forcibly, against the child's will.

OFFICE OF 
THE WOMAN'S JORUNAL, 
NO. 3 PARK STREET.

But she believes the doctor
is about     [Boston,    189]
to close his sanitarium 
(where Lizzie has been
living, ostensibly as house-
keeper, these many years),
& go off to Europe with
the boy. She wants the 
doctor to marry her quietly, 
if his second wife is dead;
& if she is not, to get a divorce
from her & marry Lizzie.
But he simply flies into 
furious rages when she
makes any remonstrance.
He is a man who ought
to be hung repeatedly; but I 
 don't quite see what we 
are going to do about it.Aunt Anna has got mixed up
in her accounts, & is convinced
that Papa is a quarter behindhand
with her allowance, when 
he isn't.  He has about made
up his mind to send her
the extra quarter to make 
her feel easy, though he
hates to, as he is hard up.
     None of this can be 
very interesting to you, but
there isn't much to tell,
unluckily.  I dined with the 
Pentagon Club the other night,
and am looking forward with
 much greater pleasure to
 dining next Sunday (by invitation) with a
 dozen or so Armenians at
 their boarding house in Chelsea.
Blackwells certainly tend to 
fads as the sparks fly upward,
& my interest in everything Armenian
lends variety & spice to my other-
wise rather monotonous life.
Mr. Gulesian lately returned from N.Y.
in triumph, having succeeded in 
[*getting 26 Armenians through the immigration commissioners--
18 of them his own immediate family.  How are Paul and Ethel getting
on? Why don't you tell me? And dear little Mrs. O'Brien?
     Yours affy. Alice Stone Blackwell]

OFFICE of
The Woman's Journal
No. 3 Park Street
Boston, May 7, 1897
My dear Kitty: Papa went to N.Y.
on May 3, in order to investigate 
Lizzie Hooper's matter. This 
good-for-nothing doctor who has
victimized her all these years,
now accuses her of having had
improper relations with a certain 
Mr. Benedict before she 
knew him.  He wrote to Lizzie's 
friend Mrs. Rose (who showed 
us the letter) that if Lizzie
would get a certificate of moral 
character from either Mr. B or 
his wife, he would marry her 
at once. Papa interviewed Mr.
B. & his wife, & both said the 
doctor's accusation was not 
true, & Mr. B promised to write
a letter to that effect.    Then
Papa interviewed several people
[*& she expressed strong objections to him, & an aversion to doctors
in general.  I asked her if she disliked her Aunt Emily & her cousin
Edith, but she said that they did not seem like doctors!  Last Sunday
I was invited to dine at an Armenian boarding house in Chelsea
with about a dozen 
Armenians 
from Van, &
found 
it much
more 
interesting 
than
it
would
have 
been to me
to dine with
the Governor,
& not much
more]who were mentioned to him as 
likely to know whetaher the 
doctor's separated wife was dead or 
living, but none of them
could tell him anything
about it .  He at last found 
her by means of the directory.
There were a lot of Mrs. Wil-
liamsons it it, but only one
who was not down as the 
widow of somebody.  He went to 
that one, & she proved to be
the identical woman.  She 
has never got a divorce from
the doctor, so he couldn't have 
married Lizzie, & all his talk
has been humbug.  Papa says
Mrs. W. is a very nice woman.
But she gave queer advice. for
she recommended that Lizzie
be left in ignorance of 
her existence, & be induced to 
make peace with the doctor
& go back to him, since she is 
penniless & has apparently only 
a few months to live.  Mrs. W.
says the doctor if kindhearted,
but unscrupulous & an awful

embarrassing - though, as most of them could not talk any English,
they sat around the room in a circle and looked shy, & felt 
ditto. On the way home I stopped ad Mr. Gulesian's factory, where 
he has installed his newly-arrived family - 18 of them;
his mother, his brother with their wines & families, & his 

tyrant; that he is good to anyone
who is completely submissive to 
him, but the least resistance
to his wishes makes him outrageous.
She herself found it impossible to 
live with him with self-respect,
& so left him.  We did not think 
it fair to keep Lizzie in ignorance
of the facts; & of course she 
refused to think of such a thing
as going back to him, now
that she knows he has a wife living.
But I think Papa showed not only
great kindness of heart, but also
the qualities of a pretty good detective.
         He breakfasted with Uncle
Sam, & lunched & supped with 
Aunt Emily.  The girl who let him 
in at Uncle Sam's evidently 
took him for Uncle Sam, & said
"Oh, Mr. Blackwell, breakfast will 
be ready directly." He sat down
& read for an hour, & then the 
family straggled down one by 
one.  Ethel seems very jolly, & 
is now longing to go to Madeira.

sister with her husband & children. One boy about 17 [hard] has 
on his head the sear of a sword cut deep enough to lay your finger 
into, and a dear little girl about fine has on her side a scar as 
big as your hand, where she was stabbed. Mr. Gulesian's 
sister
was
struck
by 
a bullet 
in
the 
foot,
& 
lost 
two 
or 
three
toes.
They are 
nice 
people,
with 
suchbut there is no likelihood of her
doing so.  Uncle Sam has caught cold 
through letting the furnace fire go
out too soon.  Edith has a practice
of about $300. a year.  One of Ethel's
friends, a young lady from Kennebunk,
was staying there.  There 
was no news from Aunt Ey's, 
in particular.  Aung Ey says Aunt
En comes into N. Y. about once a
fortnight to get books, & always
seems very cheerful.
Papa caught cold on the 
cars, & says he thought he should 
have coughed his lungs out on
the way home.  He was feeling very
tired; but when he found that
Emma had left a pressing invitation
for us to [go] dine at Cambridge
in honor of his birthday
nothing would do but we must
go over there.  Luckily, we got 
seats, though at about 5 P.M. the
cars are generally crowded.  When
we approached Uncle G's, Howard
was just coming out of the gate
on his father's bicycle, & Papa was
moved to try to ride it himself.  So
Howard brought it up to the 
curbstone, & Papa got on, & off
[*pleasant faces, & the children are such dear little ducks!  Mrs. 
Marean has fallen in love with one 12-year-old boy & wants to steal
him, though she has four of her own; & Mrs. Barrows has fallen
in love with the little girl who was stabbed, & I am tickled with
the youngest of all, a tiny boy about as big as your foot,*]


[OFFICE OF
The Woman's Journal,
No. 3 Park Street.]
they started, Howard trotting affectionately
beside the wheel & holding it
upright, to keep Papa
from upsetting.  I longed for a
kodak, to photograph them 
for Aunt Marian.  At the end
of the street they turned, with some
difficulty, and Papa came riding
back, still supported by Howard.
At the gate he got off, rather 
stiffly, poor dear, and suggested
that he should do better on a
lady's bicycle, as it would be
easier to get on & off.  But he
was jolly.  [As he] Frances was
flitting by on her little bicycle, 
as easily as a red-bird (she had
on a crimson gown), & Papa called
out to her as he was starting
off that he was 27 years old-
two and seven, he said.  Then
we went into the house. [Anne]
Anna was practicing on the 
[*but as lively as a cricket.  He has the whooping cough, & he sits in a
minute rocking chair & rocks & whoops alternately, with a composed
& cheerful countenance.  I wish I knew more about gardening.
Harry likes to garden, & digs with an energy refreshing to see; but he
has more muscle than skill, & neither Papa nor I know enough to instruct 
him very well.  Please thank Aunt B. for sending Mrs. Curtis a letter of introduc-]piano & Emma gone into the city to
buy trimmings for the children's 
clothes.  Papa subsided into a deep
sofa, & Uncle G. [bi] built up a little 
pile of sticks on the hearth & blew
it scientifically with the bellows, 
& I devoted myself to reading the
series of letters from England for
several months past, with much
interest .  Do not be worried, the
facts mentioned confidentially
will go no further, at least
through me.  Also, having now 
seen [K] your entreaty to get Papa
to mail Aunt Anna's allowance
promptly, I will try to do so.  He
[is] has written to her that he is
now going to send it May 1, Aug 1,
etc.  Barsam's mother &
sister have got as far as Marseilles
on the way to America, & I could have
thrown up my hat & cheered to
know they were safe out of Turkey.
Before quitting the subject of
Cambridge, I ought to have mentioned 
that a Mr. Robinson, a medical
student, had made an appointment
with Howard, so Howard went off 
& did not get back till almost too
late to share the ice-cream at dinner.
Anna said Mr. R. "inveigled Howard off,"
[* to Mme. Schma[ll]lil. Mrs. Curtis sent me another cheque for $50
the other day.  Oh, by the way, at Cambridge we remonstrated with them
for not taking a daily paper, only the semi-weekly Tribunes & Uncle G.
declared the Greeks were being universally "kicked out," & rather implied
that they had no pluck, to Papa's great wrath.  Affy,*]
[*Alice Stone Blackwell*]

BOSTON, May 25, 1897
Dear Kitty:
The enclosed letter &
card came this morning
& are the latest family
news.  It is pretty scarce. 
Emma is learning to ride the
bicycle, & her bicycle has
broken down.  That is the
latest report from Cambridge.
The annual meeting 
of the stockholders of the 
Woman's Journal was held 
yesterday; nobody present
but Papa & myself, & dear
old Mrs. Howe, who was
so stiff with rheumatism
that she could scarcely risefrom her chair after the meeting. It was very good of her to come out, and we were all touched by it. As she truly said, many people, if they were as badly off as she, would be in bed. 
Miss Wilde spent last Sunday with us, & Papa took her and me, and an Armenian friend of mine, Mr. Nalchajian, who often comes out on Sunday afternoon, for a long ride. We went first to the Arboretum, where innumerable varieties of lilacs were in blossom, of all sizes, shapes & colors, each labelled with its botanical name. I wish Aunt M. could have seen them, & that you could have smelled how sweet the wind was that blew across them. The road winds up the hill between rows of flowering bushes on both sides, to a place at the top where there is a beautiful look out. Afterwards we drove around Jamaica Pond, & then home by devious ways. It was a magnificent day, in spite of a high wind & lots of dust. In the evening I corrected the grammar of a long piece of an Armenian novel, which Harry is translating by way of English exercises.  I have got quite interested in the story, & especially in the queer customs of the Kurds which it describes.  Harry says it is true to life.  He was brought up among the Kurds, just like one of them, except that his people were Christians, & he can tell about the extraordinary things they do at funerals & weddings.  I mean to write them up for the Journal of American Folk Lore.  Our cook has inventeda bouquet combined of horse chestnut
blossoms & the white fleur de 
lys, both of them in full bloom 
now, which is wonderfully beautiful.
Beth's young man has 
fallen in love with another girl
& broken off his quasi-engagement
of six years to her.  Poor
Beth was really fond of him, &
has been feeling pretty blue.  I
wish for her sake that we led a
more lively life & saw more
society.  A monument to
Col. Shaw has been built on the
common almost in front of our
office windows, & it is going to be
unveiled on Memorial Day with a 
procession & speeches.  Miss Turner
asked me yesterday if I had a
photo of him.  She is going to 
talk to her Sunday School
class about him next Sunday.
I told her the story you told me
about Mrs. Minturn & the colored
woman in the street car, & I heard
her telling it afterwards to Miss
Wilde, who clapped her hands
with delight.  No doubt the Sunday
school class will have the benefit
[*of it.  I spend odd moments in reading Erckmann - Chatrian's
historical novels.  Papa is busy with real estate, & gets very
tired, but can't be induced to spare himself.
Affectionately yours, Alice Stone Blackwell]

OFFICE OF
The Woman's Journal,
No. 3 Park Street.
BOSTON, June 11 1897
My dear Kitty:
I am shocked to think
how long it is since I have 
written; but, as usual, we
have been very busy.  Papa &
Mrs. Barrows & I, & perhaps
Miss Jacobs, are planning to 
go down to the Vineyard on
June 18 & spend a week.  Tomorrow
Papa goes to Vermont.
He expects to spend Sunday 
with Phebe Buman at Montpelier, 
& then attend the
annual meeting of the Vermont
W.S.A. on Monday &
[*Aunt Emily en route to York; & we hear that Agnes is
coming on for [Cl] Harvard Commencement.  Last Monday
Papa, Mrs. Barrows, Eva Channing & I made a picnic
to the [bl] Blue Hill of Milton, & ate our dinner on a flat rock in the woods; after which we drove to Hyde Park & 
 Papa addressed a meeting of the Hyde Park Women*]Tuesday, & then come home.  I 
hope the little trip will do him
good.  Howard was intending to
go with him, but has given up 
the idea at the last moment.
Howard & Emma were in
the office the other day, & Howard
seems to be growing; he certainly
looks longer than he
used to!  Emma says every
member of their household
wants to spend the summer
in a different place.  Anna 
wants to go to the Vineyard
without a day's delay; Howard
wants to go to East Orange
(for the sake of Clifford Brown
& the Harvard - Yale races at
Poughkeepsie).  Emma wants
to go to Gardner; Lovina
wants to stay in Cambridge &
clean house; & Uncle G. holds
himself in an amiably self-effacing
attitude, willing to go anywhere.
We expect a visit soon from
[*Suffrage League, & was presented with an enormous &
beautiful bouquet by a pretty little girl.  We are having a
lovely day to-day after a wonderfully cold & wet spring,
the like of which the oldest inhabitant cannot remember!]
[*But it keeps the gardens green. Your aff. cousin, A.S.B.*]


Office of
The Woman's Journal,
No. 3 Park Street.
Boston, June 25 1897
My dear Kitty:
Papa, Mrs. Barrows & I
went down to the Vineyard
Saturday, returning Wednesday.
We had a good time, & lovely
weather every day but one.
We took the Stage up; & 
as it approached Squibnocket
P.O., we heard the sound of a 
bell.  We knew it could not
well be a prayer-meeting on
Saturday evening; nor a fire,
for there is no fire-engine.
It turned out to be an ice -
cream party at the school
house, in aid of the library; &
Florence was at it.  Elliot, whosestore seemed overflowing with people,
sent somebody after her, & soon
she came trotting up, dimly visible 
in the dusk, but putting up a 
slender paw in warm & excited
welcome.  The had not been quite
sure of our coming, as Papa had
had a slight attack of [summer complaint] gripes &
diarrhoea that morning, & Aunt
Emily advised him to stay at
home as more prudent, so I telegraphed that our coming was uncertain.
But he said if we did not go with him,
he would go alone; so after trying
in vain to dissuade him, we
 succumbed, & went.  Aunt Ey, who
left the same day for York, gave 
him a dose of rhubarb before
starting.  It did not operate, but
it seemed to stop his gripes; 
& instead of going on to an attack
of summer complaint, as he had 
feared, he became hermetically
sealed, for several days.  He is
the most unaccountable mortal!
We arrived after dark, &
found the little house inexpressibly 

inexpressibly mousy.  during the first
night the mice ate a hole
through
Papa's satchel to get at some 
crackers he had rashly left
in it.  Next day we cleaned this 
up; & when the rain stopped
Papa sat outdoors reading, with 
his feet on a newspaper to keep
them off the wet grass.  Floy &
Elliot came over in the afternoon;
both of them are looking very
well, & Elliot's beauty is much
improved by his new teeth.  I 
had no chance for any confidential
talk with Floy, except 
for about five minutes.
She summoned me mysteriously
out into the hall, & astonished
me by telling me she had a
decided desire to preach, & had
about made up her mindto go & preach occasionally, say for
one week out of each month, for
the "Crusaders", an organization something
like the Salvation Army, to 
which the young man belongs
whom she & Elliot like so much,
& whom they have at their house
once in a while to recuperate
from his labors.  As F. says, she
"wants to try her wings a little".
The organization will pay her expenses.
Elliot has given his consent, 
but her mother & family do 
not approve.  F. says they are afraid 
she will leave this young man
her property, but she & Elliot 
have no such intention.  She has
planned to get a very good
Swedish girl of whom she has
heard, who will be able to make
Elliot & Walter comfortable in her
absence.  I had not heard a
word of this plan, & it almost
took my breath away; but there
was no time to discuss it.
Next day we went to Gay
Head, & then, instead of going home,
walked across from the main

road to show Mrs. Barrows our
land - the tarn, the high down etc.
The area of 
desolation has spread
frightfully.  We walked home, 
going part of the way barefoot
on the beach.  Next morning
I walked over to Floy's, but
she had gone to a ministers'
meeting at Gay Head which
was to last all day; & the next
day we went home.  We took
a team, & started about 9.30.
Before we left, we looked out
& saw Floy driving over, in
a crimson flannel waist &
white sunbonnet, looking like
some brilliant bird.  Papa,
who was hankering to call on
Mrs. Sanford, got in with
Floy & drove around thatway, & met Mrs. B. & me, who had
no wish to call on Mrs. Sanford,
at Ephraim Mayhew's corner.
Papa went in to have a word
with Capt. Ephraim, but he was
off shearing sheep - at 88!  The
island was white with daisies - 
"a terrible sight of white-weed", as
one of the passengers in the
stage prosaically called it, the
night we arrived; & there were
lupines, & red & white clover, 
& deep purple grass, & all
sorts of nice things.  The island
looked lovely.  Mrs. Barrows
cooked for us, & Papa said he
had not been so deliciously fed
for ever so long - though he considers
our Lizzie a good cook,
too.  Mrs. B. succeeded in giving us
a good & varied bill of fare out of
very slim materials, for we did 
not succeed in getting either fresh
meat or fish.  Agnes is at Cambridge,
& has been attending class-day
festivities etc with Howard.  Aunt
Ellen has rented her little Lawrence
house, & expects to go to Dorset
[*about July 1.  We saw Miss Jemima; I will tell you
about it next time.  In haste, affectionately
Alice Stone Blackwell.*]

BOSTON, July 8 1897
My dear Kitty:
I am ashamed to have
let so long a time pass without
writing, but I have been busy
over head & ears.  We are all
pretty well.  Papa celebrated the
4th by making currant jelly.
Poor Lizzie Hooper, being
scared by the threats of that
unprincipled old doctor to take
the boy, went to her brother-in-law
in Canada (Constance's husband),
& left the little fellow 
with him, & then returned to
Boston & tried to get work.
Before she succeeded in finding
it, she was taken down with
acute bronchitis, & died night
before last, at the New England
[*rather think that he will interview Uncle G. on the subject, & that
Mrs. S. may find a spoke put in her wheel.  I see by the Philanthropist
that the Shield has resumed publication.  I want it.
Can you get me the back numbers (I believe it began in May), &
subscribe to it for me, & let me know what it costs & I will repay you.
Please don't forget this, for I really want it very much.
No special news here.
The Gulesians are coming back*]Hospital for Women & Children,
July 12.  It seems as if there were a
fatality to keep me from finishing
my letters; but I suppose it is only 
the fiend of disorder.  Howard came
over to see us yesterday afternoon.  He
is attending the summer school at
Harvard from 8 AM to 5.30 P.M., 
studying chemistry, & enjoys it much.
Uncle G., Emma & Anna are at Gardner,
Frances at W. Brookfield with Clara
Barlow.  Howard has seen Aunt Emily's
York cottage for the first time, & is
much pleased with it, both house
& situation.  He & Agnes rode 40 miles
of the journey on their bicycles in 6 1/4
hours, & had great fun.  Agnes is
there still.  Howard & Papa sat on top
of the house, where a tray of Irish 
moss from M.V. is bleaching; & after
supper they & Beth & Mrs. Dorsey
had a beautiful drive to Squantum,
with a high tide & full moon.
Aunt Ellen & Ethel are supposed to
have gone to Dorset or to be just going,
& Edith is to follow with Aunt Eliza,
who has cataract on both eyes.  Uncle
G's family expect to go to the Vineyard
next week.  When Howard heard that
Mrs. Sanford was trying to buy the
Point of Rocks, he showed an unusual
amount of excitement, for him; & I
[*from my Vineyard cottage to-day, & Hattie Turner & her party going
down.  I expect to reach camp about Aug 1.
Yours affectionately, Alice Stone Blackwell.*]

BOSTON, July 23 1897.
My dear Kitty:  I have just
seen Uncle G., Emma & Anna
off for the Vineyard.  Papa & G
came into town early, so as 
to say goodbye to them.
Papa started to go through the
train to see if they were on it,
while I looked for them in
the station.  The first I 
caught sight of was Uncle
G., in straw hat & long
white beard, gazing around,
evidently for his family.
Then came Emma, likewise
in a straw hat, stepping
swiftly along with rather an
[*he has already paid her $100. which was not due, to
ease her mind, & that he shall not send the next till 
Aug. 1.  The other day I induced him to cast up our year's
expenses, & he is rather dismayed at the amount we 
have spent.
[Abut]
About $2000. is taxes alone.
I expect to start for camp the first week in August.
It is very hot.
We*]

anxious expression, while Anna
tripped briskly Vineyard ward,
with an alert & wide-awake
air pervading her whole youthful
person - dark pigtail down
her back, & big black eyes vivid
as usual.  She carried a basket
containing two glasses of jelly
& some young plants in [pots] earth -
"asters & cypress vines & things",
she said, when I asked her. 
The cats have remained at
Cambridge.  Mr. Herman
Mayhew was to meet [them] Uncle G. & party
& Clara Barlow & little Frances
to join them by & by.
Howard & Lovina will go down
Aug. 14, when the summer
school closes.  Howard is at
the head of the chemistry class -
that is, he has done more 
work than any of them - &
he says he wants to get
[*are glad Uncle G. & family are off for the Vineyard, &
shall have pleasure in thinking of them in a cool
place.  They have a nice day for the journey.*]

the full worth of the $40. he
paid; which is a characteristic
remark.  He finds it very delightful
to
have the use of the laboratory
for his experiments.  Qualitative
analysis is what they have 
been doing.  He took an afternoon
off when Ned Risbof came to
see them, & he is going to
Gardner to-morrow afternoon
to spend Sunday with his 
grandmother.  Phebe Stone Buman is
to spend the following Sunday
there.  I mentioned
to Uncle G. the rumor that 
Mrs. Sanford has been
trying to buy the Point of
Rocks of Capt. Ephraim, & 
he asked from whom I 
had heard it, & when I
[*It seems a longtime since I have heard from you.
No special news here.  Affectionately yours,
Alice Stone Blackwell.*][su] said Florence, Anna exclaimed,
"Papa has no confidence
in Florence", & Uncle G. shook
his finger at her to be silent.
(Don't read this to the aunts).
I go off to Adams to-morrow
to attend a business committee
meeting of the Suffrage Association
which Miss Anthony
has called connection with
an Anthony family reunion
to be held there.  It will be
an Anthony glorification, I 
suppose, & I look forward
to it with anything but 
pleasure.  Agnes is expected
Monday so Papa will only be
alone over Sunday.
Aunt Eliza is at Dorset,
where Edith cares for her most
affectionately.  Aunt Ellen's letter
I enclose.  Papa got a card from
Aunt Anna the other day, saying
her remittance is overdue.  He says