Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1872-04-04
Sarah James First Epistle to the
Subscriber.
MAY, 184-.

LEAN w AohI
Your sweet letter came to hand last
evening while was milking, and with
an old sun-bonnet on, too, and my hair
all down! Ireally felt ashamed ofmy-
self, Pete brought it from town, whith-
er he had gone to buy d pair efnew
suspenders With that quarter you gave
him to say nothing to me about you be-
ing butted by the old ram. have been.
so lonesome since you wentlaway that I
have no:heart to .even wash the dishes
half clean. Sweet thoughts of you are
ever uppermost in, my mind and your
dear flee is in, nut nhly engfaRen On the
tabhiet of my hisdzory, and they sold
the calf the other day, and feel like 1
was almost alone, with only hope to
cheer me up, and father says you were
esb,ggest eater he ever saw, and I
don't believe it. There are so many
things that remind me of you-that old
pair of boots that you left, that old
straw hat and a pair ofbidlsocks, land
don't you remember that hog that rub
bed against your new black pants? In-
deed, am sure never look at hog
but what 1 think ofyou darling. Never,
never
Your footprints are still in the mud
dy lane, and it win takB Along time for
them to be blotted out. Pete says those
tracks are little too wide for the lane,
but he never knows what he is saying.
I set out two beds ofonions to-day, you
were always so found of them, and truly
Inever smell them but it brings you be-
fore my reed eetioh, and then always
see that wart on your nose, and that
little angelic moustache which you
were always blackening with candle
snuff, and everlastingly getting it all
over my face; but I remember those
kisses, you were the first fellow that
ever kieedpe, apd the first I ever kiss
ed. know you know all girls say
this, but it is fact.
I have the greatest friendship for
you, and will have until we get married,
if we ever do. Father says he hasn't
got an opinion of yon higher than the
tower of Babel and insinuates openly
thatd am Urging my Swine to poor
market. He says you have no cents
spelt both ways-but, 1 don't mind
much what he says against you, only 1
never like to hear bin Alvats Saying
that you are lazier than crooked log;
and he says if we ever get married it4
will be because the sheriff amt in veryl
much of hurry for ajob. si1
Dear Washy, if had an angels penl
I would write you the sweetest letter
you ever read Rnd tell you that the old |
shanghi rooster that the folks said look,|
ed like you, is dead man, havingl
a smoked ham without re-
moving the string. We had noodles
for dinner. How you would have en2E
joyed them if you had been here. I
Z r hope 1 have a piaeeanIthy memoryl4
1 wonder if you viii still wear thosef
stockings on which 1 embroidered new
heels and toes. There, 1 had to stop
and chase the mule offthe porch. Ihopa
you have not lforg6tteA ii, iesthe one
that made you walk sideways 50 long.
1t used to make mother so mad to see
you using iine tooth comb three times
a day, for she had an idea that it wasn'tI
very polite, and gbng tdbsd With your
boots on, she could never get over that.
Dear Washy, I hope for my sake YOU
won't marry any Of those millionaires,ll
daughtersvplease don't. 49,
But 1t is milking time, must fix the
cows slop. The swill-tub is just wherel
it was when you fell in it last. How