St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1876-01-07
Edwnrd D'io"ry 10 Johm FLmD;ng
u est ;I-H street. NcT York.

] " tNI SIN NfITcf. .NtT OrE.
August . -.
Ny DEAR jack: had u line from
| liiI!"n this n"Iuim". and WAS rtirirrrl
tu learn that lnul hurt j. not 80 bad .l>
I lrpnrtcd. Like Il certain prrsnni.r.
/ N"u alr not 80 black and hlmc H. lou
are painted. Dillon will put vnu ON
Your pm. again in two ol three weeks.
| if you will "ulN have patience and fol
! low his c"IliS'lS. Did Nuu yet my note
of last Wednesday | was grcatll
/ troubled when heard of the accident.
| can imagine how tranquil and saint .
| lN Nou aIe with AoII leg IN Il trough
| It, dcuccd awkward. T." be sue. just ;>
We had promised ourselves Il glorious
month together ri tHr seaside; but We
must make the best of il. 1t is untni-
| tui:itc. too. that my fathers health
renders il impoSSihlr ior me to leave
him. think he has much improved ::
hut he still needs my arm to lean upon
in his walks. aud requires some one
/ more calciul than Il servant to look at
/ ter him. / cannot come IT, Won. dear
Jack. but nave hours of unemployed
time nu hand. and will write YOU II
whole poStotficc full of letters if that
will divert You. Heaven knows. !
haven't ANYTHING to write about. 1t
| isn't as if We we've liviu" ut one of the
beach houses then could do YOU some
character studies. and fill your imagina-
ton with hosts of TmldcsSeS. with
their (or somebody cl>e>) raven and
blonde names hanging down their
| shoulders. Gou should have Aphroditr
| in morning wrapper. in evening eos
tune, and III her pretticSt bathing suit
| But we are far from all that here. We
| have rooms III Il farmhouse, on Il cross
road. two miles from the hotels. and
/ lead the quicteSt of lives.
| wish | were novelist. This old
house. with its Sandcd floors and high
wiinScotS. and its narrow windows
looking out upon IL cluster of pines that
! turn themselves into roiianh harp> every
time the wind blows. would he the
place in which to write il summer
romance. 1t should he IL story with
! the odors of the forest and the breath
of the sea in it. 1t should he Il novel
like one of that Russian fellows -
what's his n;me Tourgutnieif. Tur
gucncf, Toorgunitf, Turgtnjew, no
body knows how To spell him. Il think
I his own mother must he in some doubt
about him.) Yet | wonder if even Il
Liza or an Alexandra Paulovna could
stir the heart of Il man who has con
slant tWimgeS iu his le". wonder if
one of our own Yankee girls of the best
| pc, naughty and SpiritucIie. would he
of any comfort to Nou i'll H"ur present
icplOrahlc condition. If | thought so.
| would rush down to the Surf House
and catch one for YOU ur, better still,
! | would find yOu one over the way.
| Picture to yourself Il large white
| house lust ACROSS the road. Learly OPP
poSite our cottage. 1t is not Il house,
| int II mansion. built. perhaps, in the
| colonial period, with rambling eXten-
sionS. aud sambrel roof. and Il wide
/ riazza Oh three sides, ii Selt-possesSed.
| hiph-brcd piece of architecture. with
| IFS nose in the air. 1t stands back from
| the road. and has an ohsequlons retInue
of flinred elns and oaks and weeping
willows. Sometimes in the morning.
and oflencl in the afternoon, when the
sun has withdrawn from that part OF
the mansion. II Young woman appears
on the piazza with some mysterious
Penelope web OF embroidery III her
hand. or book. There is halnmoch
over Thereof pineapple fibre, 1t looks