Blackwell Family 1871 - 73 Alice Stone Blackwell Hooper, Nellie Brookline May 27th 1871 Delightsomest – I don't want to write, & I've nothing to write about, & Miss Clara thinks it highly amusing that I should write to you on the day after your visit - but - writings next best to - 'gazing & gabbling' so I'm a-going to write - It's the heavenliest day! Thats why I don't want to write, but want, want, want to have you here to meander with me. What are you doing now, my Greek, I wonder. Discovering with Elizabeth, Ada, or your mother - half asleep with a bookdeep in yout studies,- or having a little Sunday music? If her "Greek" meets Greek, then comes the tug of war. I got up at a quarter past five this morning, took a bath breakfasted, went to Sunday school at half past nine, from thence to church, home at one, had dinner, sat and laid about & read a little while, - found the letters I was looking for a while ago.- & finally took my pen in hand etc. - I found my [cap?] on the bureau when I reached home. I hadn't worn it. You must have been caught in a shower after I left you. hope you didn't catch cold or experience much discomfort. Couldn't find you any rhymes I felt willing to send, but send you two unwillingly. Doesn't that seem like it? Here's one small writing, the other's an abominable "unrequited" Spring song "Spring has come again to us" I heard a maiden say 'How do you know it? How can you show it? "Why, yesterday a robin sat on a maple spray And told me in a carol most musically gay. "Spring has come again to us, ", - I hope it may be true, Give us some token That you have truly spoken! "Why, yesterday I plucked some flowers, from wood-nooks where they grew White as snow flakes from the sky; just touched with rose & blue. Spring has come again to us, look, blind one - everywhere Signs there are plenty Not one - but twenty; All the world grows fresher, grows greener, & more fair And clouds hang, & white & light, - high in the pure blue air. Theres a fit production for a dull child of mine. It was made last autumn,, I think. -I won't send you the "Unrequited" after all; its quite too bad. I will inform you of the swellings of our white cactus buds, & shall expect you down in the next train when one opens. They don't last long. I didn't show you all my domain, your sudden coming upset me so; & I actually didn't make you write in my Autograph album after all. Give much love to 'Lizabeth' & remember me to Mrs Stone, – – & Mrs Ade. - Tell Liz she must write or come & see me, or I shall commit suicide: perhaps. I send you a hug; positively no kisses admitted. Goodbye, you poor dear Blighted Bean! Yours, – [co?t??er?ly}, Nellums Bloomfield, May 10th – [?73] Dear Alice, I have quite a budget of letters here beginning with your name, & ending with mine as is the productions of the last 4 months I can not tell you how ashamed of myself I feel bad if you can possibly imagine your noble self committing such a wickedness you may be able to form some feeble impression of my feelings. How ever, I have not forgotten a feature or even a word of yours, I do believe since you left me on the last day of [?]; I have been comforted greatly by my great book of poems on days of indisposition, of which I have had a good many, & found a great many things in it which I had long wanted to see. We all liked David [????brod] amazingly, but poor Fannie having read it without mamas knowledge was troubled in her sleep with visions of the ghastly [?Euphra] as she appeared that night –ever I talk in this decided way, my poor, weak selfish miserable daily life stands up and stares me in the face & I feel humble indeed. For I find that growing on toward womanhood, I cannot be the noble, useful, unselfish woman & friend I would be, without daily & nightly effort & the poor little feeble efforts I send out are not able to accomplish what I would have them. However Alice Stone Blackwell, my friend, if you will visit me, we may talk which is far better than writing: So with love to all & longings for you I am The Dame - Nellie [Harper?] as everwhen Hugh slept in the haunted chamber) & awoke crying. I received with unfounded delight the box of delightful narcissus bulbs, as I stated in two other recent letters, but the poor little things had to be transplanted again when we moved to our present residence in Bloomfield, N.J, (which is all the address you need send your letters to) &, are now, I fear, in no very healthy condition, their leaves having a bluish wilted appearance, quite different to the bright yellow-green of other sprouting bulbs. It was a great disappointment to me, for I took all the care of them I could, & they grew beautifully in Thirteenth St; I expect the second journey, though a short one, was too much for them. We live now in a large, old fashioned house, with quite a large garden, & more than half a dozen, bearing, fruit trees, besides grape vines, four solitary currant bushes, & two long strips of flower beds in which quite a quantity of plants, left by the former inhabitants, are growing up. We have a beautiful living between two large pear trees, which I enjoy a great deal, especially on pleasant evenings. The surroundings are very pleasant, the horse cars are very near, & yet not near enough to be unpleasant, - there are a great many very nice houses on the hill east of us - & every clear night, when we walk up to see the sunset, the birds among the trees & shrubs of the beautiful grounds, give us a free & very enjoyable concert. There are so many birds & flowers, & hills & dales about here. We get fresh milk morning & evening from an old gentleman who lives next door but one, which is a great deal better than the milkman's liquid. Of course it (Bloomfield) is not up to Harrisons Sqr. or Popes Hill, at least, but it is a beautiful place, I think, & very healthy, & we have made our sitting room comfortable & shall be delighted to receive you at any time from now to the next time we move. Dear Alice, have you been reading Theology, or religious arguments, or whatever it was, ever since you left me. I haveargued with myself & my books & with my utmost power (which I could not with my friends) & stick faster than ever to my doctrine & faith, & the atonement which you can smile at, when I can only wonder with awe, I believe & feel & in belief & feeling is everything. And though people smile at the word belief & say faith is blind,- & laugh at the inadequate arguments of "feeling that I am right & you are wrong." – yet my feelings are so much to me, that I sometimes feel that I could die for the power of expressing them, with the convincing power they must have, to my friends who differ from me. Terribly sensitive as I am to things of which I could not be persuaded to tell you , even, my friend, I feel that if I had not got that comfort. (which no one not believing as I could have got) in my peculiar need at that time, from my belief & deeply grounded feelings. I should have gone crazy, or, at any rate had a serious illness, as it is, I have not been well for a long, long time. not sick either but having a constant feeling of weakness & unfitness for at any time applying oneself long to one thing. but when June 1st - 73 Dear Alice: I did not receive your letter dated May 7th until yesterday evening. I answer it now. To begin at the beginning, the reason that I wrote 'back' was that I was very unwell & felt consequently, lackadaisically languid. I had just passed through five days of low fever. I am now very well. Mary is much better than she has been. Lizzie is rather unwell – & Fannie. Much obliged to you for your recipe. I am glad it relieves you when you suffer with the dumps, – I will try it. I don't think you said anything extravagant in your previous letter, it was merely the expression of a stage of feeling which Ievery one comes to at some time in their lives, a point which you & I, I think have reached, for we must needs, now, with all the strength God has given us, dust & scrub our spiritual windows, until Gods own pure light of truth pours in, & irradiates our whole hearts. Now, if ever, we find the light. Alice, will you question your own heart & find out how much you really believe in, which you do not understand. - That was your next point, I think. I do not think you believe much of that. I don't know what "Yeast" is or may be, but my dear, you go against all the laws of nature if you go back to Collyer & Tom Hughes to set you right because you were made uncomfortable. Physic would tell you to find out the cause of your discomfort. If you are honest Alice you should go to the dregs of the yeast, & find out what there was in it & how far it was right & whether it would not at last have helped you by making you uncomfortable at first & cleaning your system of something that was out of place there. It does not sound like you, to go back, to the two sedatives, whom your reason at first sight approved of, with out trying the effect of the emetic, though it did make you sick I can't state clearly what I mean, bit I wish I could get hold of that 'Yeast" if it is a book, as I suppose it is. I should like to write for an hour & try to tell you why I do – & how I can, especially the last, but I am too much excited to write coolly, already & my heart beats like a little trip hammer. But why? I will shortly say, that I believe in the bible (that old book that the noble army of martyrs have died in upholding, & which has defied the march of time, & the fickleness of men in their beliefs, & has still held round it, a sturdy band of followers, though that is not the reason I believe it & you don't. I can because I find more comfort and help in my struggle upwardsupwards, through my present belief, than I could by any others. If I was to lose the belief of God as my Savior, I should lose my peace of mind. As my Savior, I pray to Him, & through prayer feel such a peace & comfort & outflowing love to God that I could not be convinced that I could be happy without. People who get no comfort from prayer may abandon it. When I feel blue it is my best cure. I cannot be blue while I am speaking to God. I cannot write as I would. I wish you would come & see me, the invitation is cordial & earnest from all, & we should be glad to have you come. It is beautiful weather today. Bright sun, cool breeze dancing leaves, rolling grass, merry birds & beautiful flowers. We have four birds nests about our house, a wrens, a catbirds, & two, or perhaps three, robins nests. Thank you, very much for your verses. Yours Truly, Nellie Aug. 21st - 1897 Dear Alice:- Yours received: - There's a great deal more slang in me than there is in my "Explosion," so you've been mistaken in your Nellums. I recalled the story of Acteon as soon as I began to read your explanation. I never studied mythology, but I used to be fond of dipping into the classical dictionary & other books that told of the mythical, & so picked up a crumb of information. I'm sorry you have a cold, how did you catch it? What are you doing for it? I'm glad you heard a good sermon on Sunday. I heard two extraordinarily good ones, [*We have a splendid big calla opening at the green-house. I suppose you'll be home before long. How do you like Mr. Black? Is he patient, pleasant & polite? Does he speak Greek like a native? Let me have one more letter from you. Yours as usual. Nell*]The mornings text was from Isaiah The evenings from Habbakuk, (as the minister pronounced it). - We gave the sun up when our week was over, - I thought I told you so, - not having enterprise enough to try again, once or twice since. I've tried to wake [Leni ?] up in the morning to go with me, but failed to infect her with my enthusiasm. I'd like to see your water lilies, a little while ago, the people of the house went to a picnic & brought home with them therefrom any number of lily buds, only one opened. I believe, however, - that was lovely. - What a goose I am to send you rhymes all the time while I receive none from you- Still while I have them I suppose I might as well: Do you remember my speaking of writing something to be called "In a Hammock" - A summer edge. - I tried it, & failed. Here's a spoonful of the hash. A day of glorious sunshine, & calm peace A sweet spring Sabbath-day of rest & gladness the birds sang as in song could never cease And earth held nought of sadness: - I, wandering through the full-leaved thickets sang Responsive, & my heart with tender feeling For happiness newborn, her joy-bells rang And old-time wounds were healing. It seemed as change I walked to meet my fate Led by the breeze that whispering, fluttered round me Be it a fair one! cried my heart elate- And lo my fate had found me!I stood where tall pines rose, & did enring A green & shadowed circle; a soft sighing Rose from it; - thus might any angel sing In tones for rapture dying- A murmured hymn - how sweet ; I leaned to see A hammock swinging 'neath the boughs o'erleaning; - A maid with upraise eyes gazed dreamily Through the dark branches' screening - Her dark hair over-ran her light-hued dress Her lips were parted with the songs' outflowing & I gazed a moment on her loveliness My heart with pleasure glowing- "A breeze that lights her cheek with carnival tint & shadows on her forehead whiteness playing I pray thee whisper not, - O give us hint that I so near am straying. O gently sway, sweet wind, her air-hung nest! Sweet boughs bend low, & keep the sunbeams from her. May no ungentle sound distract her read! No one intruding, roam here! I turned away "Fair spirit of the wood Have I thus said "Adieu!" & then, forever?" My heart would fain have turned, & silent stood To cease its gazing never. Which implies you see that his heart was in his eye - or vice versa. "Such as I have etc.