The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1854-09-09
For TIE Cecil Wig
LETTER TO BLANCHE
MEADOW COTTAGE. Sep. 9th 81


DEAR BLANcHE.-T ought to scold instead
ofthank you for your hattcring letter. Twas
very thoughtlcss You to say such fine things
about me. What if had believed them 3
don't you know it would have spoiled me,
that should never have been able to write
another letter for "Ihe Wing g.
You fancy resemble Alice Carey! Hush
don't speak it aloud-les it reach her car and
wound her sensitive shirt. She cschcws all
sympathy with "Woman's Rights" and
would. no doubt, feel a cold chill creep over
her were she to hear her name coupled with
that of MArDE, who believes that woman's
-l,lace is by the side and not at the feet man.
Don't you remember Blanche. how. not
many years ago, an authorizes dedicated her
book to Alice Carey, and her lady-ship felt
insultcd that such writer should presume to
dedicate a book to her: for like .'that bold,
had writer Craze Greenwood she did not
i,iong to Alcc's school. don't admire such
iutut.rancc and Observation-Disclosures, and have
t~rrr liked Alice Carey so well, since che APP
ldicd such harsh words to one of my favoritcs:
and whenever read one OF her beautiful
poems find myself wishing that she would
never write prose; Tor when the good spirit is
beside hcr-thc holy spell Of poetry upon her
she cannot give utterancc to such hnkind
things.
| am now reading story of hcrs-llolly-
Unpublished in the National Era, which
my dear father pronounccs shameful" it is
so false to nature he says and so I'M just 10 hcr
Sex. Whenever a new female character is III
troduccd and begins to dcvelopc herself, ia H.
tr interrupts me witl:-''lherc Maude, is an
other of her contemplate characters: is she
not going to give us one true woman in the
whole story!' But then, my father may be
Il little unjust to Miss Carey: for in his gen
e"oms enthusiasm he possibly ovcrcstima.es
woman's charactcr-not what she should be,
but what she is
I'm sorry to quarrel with you Blanche, at
the OF cning Of our correspondence, but I'm
not at all like Alice Carey. Why if could
write such poetry as hers think you, I'd pen
this prose to you? No! I'd weave a lay of
,,wtctcst rhyme-tllat you d remember for a
long long time.
II had written thus far when there was
n light tap at my door, and in came our friend
ELLEN GREY.
Writing Manufacturer l won't disturb
YOU
No" replied, "comc in. I'm only an
swcring Blanche's letter.
Ali blanche, who called me "singing
brd:"-I ought to thank her'-and picking
mp the pen which had laid down upon her
entrance, she wrotc:-
pcrr Blanche THOU art mocking- bird;
At Last thou mockest me;
For never note of mine was he rd
From flower. or shrub or tree.
Say ddst thou ever hear Inc sing
From that "oll beech down by the spring
would WERE n bird dear Blanche
That might Hy to thee.
And resting on q swinging branch
OF that old f,voritc tree.
Carol n swe t and Joyous lay
To cheer thee at the close ofdAy.
As she handed the pen to me said incl
~, why do you never write rhyme now "a
days for the Whig?"
With smile and half sigh she answered
"Bccausc
Ny soul is hushcd and quiet
Within my brc st;
No fe rs disturb my spirit
Wi sad unres
The moonlight softly resting
Upon this brow,
Is like the joy which filleth
My bosom now.
When lifc's darksomc days return 10 mc-whcn
my no grows lonely and restless it may perchancc
coMrLAIS; but Just now. lfes sunshine is all about
INC and m ne is such a selfish heart Maudc, that it
will keep its sunny thoughts all to ITSELF
How would love to visit VALLEY Farm
and sit with you under that old beach and
eat peaches --wouldn't it be so nice! And
we'd gossip to our hearts content about The
IFhig and its lettcr.writcrs. You should tell
Inc all about "ATYRA MysTIC' and others
whom You know and in return I'd tell you
Of Cousin Bel and Ellen Grey.
BY the way. Ellen is going to spend the
coming winter in Washington and I'm to
accompany her, if ,ce can eoar our folks to let
mel And perhaps we'll call at Valley Farm.
Can't you keep few OF those peaches II DC.
tobcr. Blaache!
But I'm writing to thee as if thou vert an
old friend, and perhaps thou art. Methinks
TINT in spirit, or dream land, Eve met thee
ere now -
Tho old clock in the dining room is stri-
>king twelve and must say-Good night!
MAupE.
ITTherc was fine rain at Cumberland oil
Wednesday evening, and one at Wheeling on
T.. l..