The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1897-12-21


to you,' he said. BE good and kind
to Dick for my sake-but not too good.
Tor I don believe I should like to be
thrown quite in the shaded"
And his great, honest, blue eyes filled
with tears, as he once more pressed
Mays hands to his lips. In two min
utes he was out Of sight. When should
he spend another day in that dear old
home again?
May %.
Dear Mag: I promised to write to
you very often, and tell you everything
about myself-my impressions, my
work, my castles in the air, etc.-and
now / find I have been here really
two months, and not one respectable
letter have / sent youi But his is
the way Of all flesh. We max plans
that seem to us very good and delight
full, but how seldom do we carry them
into effect! Tonight. however. I
shall succeed in writing a good long
letter, if I lose my whole nights rest
by so doing. The boys-they are great
boys, too-offered me every induce
ment to go with them to the theatre
and a theatre dinner, but what /
wanted most Of all was a talk with
you. After dinner I gave orders that
I must be disturbed for nothing.
II believe I ave already given you
a very imperfect description of this
very beautiful city. Even though the
weather is growing quite hot, the city
looks charming still. I told you too,
that / was Joking for bachelor quarters
somewhere; first class accommodations
at third class rent. / had wanted two
rooms, one for study and the other
for my sleeping room. I have o
much hunting but with no success.
Perhaps I am too exacting in what /
require, or call comfortable. You
know I always have as an ideal the
charming rooms you have in that dear
old home Of yours, and the lovely
rooms that were liked for me so short
ly before I left home. But ideals are
not to Tie found in boarding houses.
However, my aunt came to the rescue,
n insisted that I hOuld continue to
form one Of her household as long as
1 remained unmarried and LIVED in this
city. 1t was awfully good OF her, for
she has had her hands quite full now
so full, she says that n more thing
won't be noticed. But I'm living in far
too much luxury; the house and every
thing in it are beautiful. My aunt's
taste is perfect and her means ample,
SO she can indulge her fancy to almost
any extent.
<AANoShSA tAAAl6
during these two months is that even
here money does not grow on trees
it has to be worked for as elsewhere.
There is the same steady drive and
competition, some one always waiting
to push you on one side so that he can
step into your place. I dom hin the
office work altogether suits me. / miss
my old freedom, the good, pure country
air, n our walks together to carry
good things to the poor old sick folk!
Indeed Mag, 1 miss you everywhere and
in e~verything! I have been very g
lar about my reading, out here, too, I
miss yOu more than I can tell. Our
office work is very exacting, and pretty
Well exhausts one by the end of the
day; but uncle has his office closed by
four-thirty, so we have a good long
evening.
II am hoping that I shall soon be
of service to some one besides myself,
Fred says I can help him very much
with his charity patients if I can spare
him a few hours each week. He has
been home from college now about six
months, and is working hard at his
profession. He is an awful clever fell
low, and has been taken much notice
Of by some Of the most prominent
medical men here, which is a great
benefit to him. Besides having a good
head and hand, he has a good heart
he seems ever ready to help all that
come within his EACH. Money is not
much of an object to him at present;
all he wants is a practice and an op-
portunity Of helping his fellow men.
But good nature is ever apt to be i'm
posed upon, and already Fred is be-
ginning to feel that his generosity is
getting a little overtaxed. He is,
however, much interested in some of
his poor patients, and it is with these
T hovo nrnpoiSo1 RI holm him R1,t ny
letter is growing very bulky and I find
it very egotistical, all about myself,
n nothing about the old folk at
home
you are very good about your let
ters, only you don't say half enough
about yourself. How are you really!
I hear a good deal of you from Dick,
and the account he gives differs very
widely from you own report of your
self. He says you are the same dea1
girl as Of Did, only perhaps a shade
dearer, but he is afraid you think toe
little of yourself and almost too much
of other people. He thinks you are not
be. Don't forget that all such personal
items interest me, and I long to know
of them-if you are not we'll, and ii
you ave anything troubling you.
Il ann so glad that you are getting
along so. nicely with your nursing; OF
of course, If you could be spared from
home, and spend all your time at thu
hospital, your progress would be mucl
more rapid. But O cannot, ana
doubtless it is better so, for you are no
over strong, and there is much for yOl
to do in your own home n neighbOr
hood.
But this letter is getting too long
and I fear will bore you. Don't for
get to tell me everything about your
? self when you write next In tn
, meantime, adieu. AS ever, Wallace
September 1.
Several months must have flown by
!, dear Mag, since my last long woman;
letter to you. My weekly epistles hav'
only been little, scrappy telegraphi'
communications, just to keep you in
formed that yours truly is still in tn
, land of the living; so to-day shall b.
, a day off, n I will drop in and ono