Sunday, July 14, 2013

And then the partings: June, 1876

Thursday, June 1, 1876. Horseback!! And I’m sore all over—so sore that I can not, dare not sit down in company for fear of screaming & they might imagine the cause.


Trevue, sometimes referred  to as Tree View
Friday, June 2, 1876. We went to Trevue [the home of Ada’s grandfather, General James Semple, in Elsah, Illinois], the old homestead two miles from here, today—everything looks lovely—shady & lovely. Indeed, if I had any poetical talent whatever I could write a poem on that dear old place & what was lacking in my talent would be filled by inspiration.
 

Saturday, June 3, 1876. Sometimes I think, darling, what if I were to come home from Europe & find Lily had forgotten me or placed some one else in her heart who left no room for me?!! And then I just go off in the woods & think & mourn for us degenerate human beings—who can ever forget?
 

Friday, June 9, 1876. Mama goes to the city tonight & will ask Calie C. to come up tomorrow night. He will relieve the awful monotony of having nothing to do. I can entertain him & that will be something—pleasant, too.
 

Saturday, June 10, 1876. I have received your letter darling telling me of your intention of studying for the stage. At first it rather stunned me, for I imagined I should never be able to see you (flying around as you will) but now I have become reconciled & may God bless my Lily & give her success.
 

Sunday, June 11, 1876. Sundays are always the same here. No church ever except Methodist & we never attend that. But Sundays I dwell in particular on thoughts of Lily. Mine all mine.

Monday, June 12, 1876. My letters from my friends keep me from giving away entirely to the “blues.” But still I have that malady quite frequently.
 

Wednesday, June 14, 1876. Well—it is so lovely here at N.C. Now, for a perfect wonder, we have no company just at present.
 

Thursday, June 15, 1876. Last day of school! Oh! what happy, happy words. The exhibition went off smoothly. Valedictory address much admired &c &c. So I hear from the paper, for am still at N.C., but start tonight for city.
 

Friday, June 16, 1876. 10 A.M—Aunt Jule, Mamie & I came down to city today. Found Mama & all well. Aunt Jule will return on same boat tonight, but I shall remain until tomorrow. 10 PM—After supper tonight, Mr. Scott (my Aunt’s husband’s brother) & I called on my friend Eugie Switzer and we had the very jolliest time. All the girls are so happy now that school is out. Goodnight my precious Lily. Goodnight.
 

Saturday, June 17, 1876. I am sitting up, my darling, eating candy and writing to you. It is raining hard and I enjoy it. Mama calls me—we have started for Jersey. 9 PM—We have arrived at Jersey & Notch Cliff & I found a letter from you, my own sweet one, awaiting me.
 

Sunday, June 18, 1876. Oh! my darling, what a thing it is to have all your fond hopes blighted. Nipped in the bud just when they were sweetest and pleasantest!!!!!
 

Monday, June 19, 1876. Tonight when the boat came, she gave the Notch Cliff whistle (signifying some one was on board for us) and we could not imagine who it was. It turned out to be friends from Cal (I had never seen them) by name Mr. Hewlett, son Floyd 16 & daughter Lizzie 17.
 

Tuesday, June 20, 1876. Floyd is I think one of the handsomest boys I ever saw—& so jolly & free with every one. We went to Trevue & spent most of the day and picked mulberries, raspberries, cherries, currants &c in the garden. Mr. Hewlett & family left this evening, but I have become attached to both Lizzie & Floyd.
 

Wednesday, June 21, 1876. I have been the whole day looking over some of Mama’s school-girl correspondence & journals—so interesting. 10 PM—My sweet precious Lily, I love you more than ever when I think of our long separation that is to be. The thought gives me pain.    

Thursday, June 22, 1876. Mama & I have been sending our p.p.c. cards to the city today—very busy directing envelopes &c. [A part of calling card protocol: before leaving town, a lady would make “farewell calls” on her friends, dropping off p.p.c. (“pour prendre congé”—“for taking leave”) cards if the object of her visit was not receiving company or was out.]
 

Friday, June 23, 1876. Today a very handsome and pleasant young fellow from Alton called. His eyes are renowned for their “black beauty!”
 

Saturday, June 24, 1876. Two of my silk worms immerged from their cocoons today & laid their eggs. I have 360 eggs just from one worm. It is so very interesting to watch them. We expect to go down to the city Wednesday.
 

Sunday, June 25, 1876. Aunt Jule Clashly & children came over today & it is decided that we go down from here Tuesday & start from St. L. Thursday. I am so glad we have come to some decision.
 

Monday, June 26, 1876. Tomorrow we leave and then the partings!! Oh! I hope I shall not make a cry baby of myself.
 

Tuesday, June 27, 1876. We left tonight for St. L. on Spread Eagle [the St. Louis steamboat that serviced Jersey and Alton, which could be seen, and heard, from the lawns of Notch Cliff as it made its way up the river] at 8 P.M. Goodbye dear, dear Notch Cliff. God grant that I may see you again.
 

Wednesday, June 28, 1876. Reached St. L. this morning. Met a very pleasant young girl on the boat last night who was traveling alone and timid, so I gladly shared my couch with her.
 

Thursday, June 29, 1876. Oh! Oh! Is parting a “sweet sorrow”—can poets be so blind as to call it that? To me certainly it is a bitter, bitter sorrow. Tonight we leave for Phila. There are 15 in our party.
 

Friday, June 30, 1876. We are on the cars & I write seated, dressing, on one of the upper berths. We have a lovely party—some of the nicest gents. Oh! the cars shake so.

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