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Take it up bravely,
Bear it on joyfully.
The tea kettle began it, and it boiled all day long. We in the capacity of did severally, and Art was long. Why are we here my friends, all of us? Let us in a spirit of love inquire!
Mother says ten times one are ten! and we bestow our selves variously. My sister is priestless in the cantata of Pierce to either pole! The rest of us are not priests. O, no! We were grave. Went down to our graves, like shucks of corn fully ripe. All of us. Sure enough!
Ring in the new, every thing says, and there's no, knowing what beautiful things are up that river.
Are the wrens and phoebes martin's we be? Mother says not. It's a question that has been upon my heart some time, for cogitation. Several things are owing to the resistance of the air. Maybe it is. The above is the result of my brother's profound thinking.
Aggie dispenses love. We all do. We are a little love than the angels. If I hung my harp up, it was on willows. Willows stands for optics, mirrors, angles convexities, concavities and Merlins willinwood. Mother demurs.
If I had birds I'd name them. Coke, Gum, Dr. Aldens, strawberry short cake, and Harlem Extension. I'd set out to liberate them when Dan came home with a change and mother had given up going to heaven bodily. The [faucet] rises up against us, and we are founded on Mrs. Leslie. This story is founded on fact.
Miss Van Kleeck appears to us, and mother wanes. Mother has never heard of the Pied Piper but we who have, know that they exist, sometimes when there's no fire in the front room.
One of my troubles is the walking. This puts the wind in the east. Slush is indescribable, and I come back accurately described. Did I go out to be stoned at my friends? Why am I out? Why, my friends! Brother Crip interests us by his ecclesiastical forthcomings, "What if the Judgement Day should come to night?" Nobody being able to answer him meeting closes. The faucet has it and visions of water commissioners yawn over us, with plumbers all shuffling off plumbing.
Is that right?
One of my refreshes is Bleak House. Before my mind reached the present mature age of twenty three, once B.H. yielded no supply. Things is worken.
Mother's ruling passion is old pants. I have come to the solemn conviction that new ones won't do. She'd rather not have them. Give her my old pair, a very old pair, or a water proof cleak. She'll first rip then wash, then color, then make up, & be very much obliged. I wonder where the shirtless city is. I'd send the boys there to school if I knew so mother would go to bed.
Mother washed. If you don't know what that means, just be me. The whole day is a perfect treaty of aches-la-shapelle! and Ma was aches and I was shapelle! Agnes appears as Mr. F. aunt. Dan and Ed "move on". The former has known mother to wash before. Sure enough. Mrs. Husted gets the first call in the [...] little brown dress, the dress that mother put together and sent to meet me for Merris Christmas, made beautifully, but covered with places where the fingers were tired, and the eyes hurt. The call isn't old enough to be written about.
Nearer to these, and the heart was in it. Dr. Bridgeman led us down among the beautiful things, so gently, and we scarce knew it until the beauty was around us and the breezes of Tiberias fanned our cheeks.
"Simon, Son of Jonas, [lovest] thou me more than these? Lord thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee"! And the music said it, and we answered Jesus all of us, and He heard.
Then silently with the holy types we remembered Jesus.
Eddie goes back to the delightful town where we've both been set down, and my mother insists on his taking all my precious [vistmoments] oflabor, cards, [pens], broke note books, and without bestowing proper thought upon the subject I yield. Mother makes tea quite to my liking and I enjoy our tea drinkings as a pleasant piece of home, something not resembling the stiffness and solemnity of our Seminary teas. 'Guess not!'
Well? and again, well? "Nice little beautifullest ma" says my sister in her favorite style seeking cold corn and finding none. My brother seeks other latitudes, the prelude being less repose than usual, and the drama a pioneering down to the train early. Another drama was announced for ten o'clock. It ended by Frances giving up going to Rondout. [Ad libitum-ad infinitum-et cetera air!] ["according to what pleases" or "as you wish"]
Mother looked glad that I came back. I want to see Susie so, that I must somehow, but there is no somehow. I can wait.
This is a pretty time to go around sick. Frances I did not bring you up this way! And it needs fell into my hands to go up to the train for Miss B's mother. It does no good to tell me, not any. I shall never find the R & S depot alone in the world. No ma'am. I can't even pick it out when I'm there. I was sure I should know her for was I not duly around with a piece fast purporting to be her, and of course no other lady would get off the train. How delusive! I found her by great skill, which behold, all the other ladies were borne off, one was left. Who knew not where to go and I found her, and lo!
If not, what? As near as I can make out Mrs. Brayton and Mrs. Bromley after an eventful career have been blessed with wonderful children. I lay on the bed and hear them talk. Wonder if they ever lay on a bed so and heard mothers talk, way back somewhere. I shall have to talk of other people's children when I am old. Mrs. Brayton has not quite spoiled my visit. I like to watch her. She has a [savor] of sunshine [pursuing] through years and years.
And I am standing to look forward. All I can see or know is just this, "Wish ye not that I must be about the Father's business!"
Mother gives me a most uncomfortable feeling. Mother suggests, "My wife and I", I fail to see how it is attainable since my sister informs me that "she knows nothink, nothink at all"! and mother has no shoes. My back is polarized. Two sets of vibrations are in motion in different directions, therefore I must be a tourmaline. I wonder if Mother would still suggest porous plasters if she knew I was a tourmaline. I expected [...] this to be encased in porous plasters, having for a shield or buckles, a mince pie but things didn't work.
Mother thought I wouldn't be well enough to go but I thought I'd better, somehow. The little sitting room looked pleasant when I came to leave it, and the tea kettle sang, and mother looked sorry. The nice cup of tea and the cosy dinner of mother's peaches seem too bring back so much. The ride I liked, all the way, but the Seminary looked grim, and I am alone of all the comers back. The house is desolate, and [Elim] only [Elim] comforts me. Come we'll get our places little pictures.
Imagine me eating in Mrs. Slater's room, walking down to church with Mr. Williams and coming back to a burden of Gyre, dinner. Not a sounds in the hall, nor any where, and every body speaking in gulturals. I was glad when Eddie came up for me to go down there, to tea. I was glad to go any where. I send out feelers into next week, and the after weeks, and I feel strong for them. I can make them bright and cheery if I will. "Neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord".
And I've got to where it begins. The Normal again proceeds to flourish under the direction of Mr. Williams and his estimable companion! Folks come back by degrees. Anna Phelps of all these astonishes us with short hair. The empty seats of those that haven't come stare at me. I put a peg here and a peg there and slowly begin to settle myself for twenty three weeks. Would you! By tea time we were all established, place had joined place, and we began.
The piece of Albany that we represent is heard from. The wind never was so far from the east, hopes are built on roomers, and on Model Schools. We, up here in Vt, catch hold of our piece of the life that joins 99 Philip, and try to fit it on to the piece up here. I've make it do.
There is one building fitty joined together, but it is further on. It is a part of the life where we go to begin the world. "Not here. O! No!"
It was nice when Annie Adams came and we said "how do do?" Guess.
Everything that belongs to me has reached a place where the centrifugal force is 17 times greater. There are scenes of rollings and pitchings! My lady's chamber is perplexed but not in despair. School receives a new impulse in the shape of green wood. Quiet times! Cesarean [velies]. Yes, we! How do we know when we are striking the right notes with a human soul before us. And mine are such unskilled fingers, [...] must we strike and hurt, and not know how to go back and do it better. What I said to Anne to night was for some night when she was stronger and ready for hard things. And the signs how wrong I read it. Well? Anne needs something, and perhaps I'll read better next time.
To day it was Jakie's letter. It sort of set me straight and sent reflected rays into the afternoon. Perhaps they went into my face.
Something sent Miss Heath up after school. To fix things, and kiss me and say somehow they all liked me very much. Five minutes after she had gone one thought was in my heart. It came welling up from where the tears are, and the springs of life, and the earnest things. "I don't believe I shall ever be cross to my girls again".
The little something that came to piece out to day, the little comer from the great world outside, was Susie's letter. "I will be at the Ferry Monday night". The little girl that hears and has waited, must listen and wait on. The good time is for some one else, for some other far away day. "A few souls can wait".
The old, old pains. To see blue, and live red. Unless Anne asks, we shall not talk again for a long long time. I've been striking the wrong key and the discord has hurt me so. Somebody else may understand and be the one. I'm afraid it is never for me.
Frances built a fire, nothing that she achieved all day could afford her half the satisfaction of that fire, for the pieces that got together to make it, and how she knew, and how twas done was a romance with a sequel. When Miss Worcester came she was elected, poker. And the fire burned!
At dinner Frances who might have been kept unruffled was very much moved to know that some piece of the State had also been making a fire. While she mused the fire burned, and she was a stick, a Model Recitation! Whew!
Something must be done. I am all adrift. For days and days and days I have just gone on, and I must stop a little while and rest and think.
"It is not what Christ is to us, but what we are to Christ, that we should think of when we are humbled and before God". we are so much to him, and he does see while we are yet a great way off. Like as a father pitieth, and I am resting and thinking.
When there were funny things! This day, when Julia Ward Hine lectures and I was to believe hard & hear her. No, I had to live red. Mr. Grady, "Like the jewel that he isn't" says Miss G. and its "Dan" that we're both after, or freezing is inevitable.
My Model Recitation Class is formed. Miss G. and her father. Miss Bissell is trying to make it evident to us that she's the "estimable companion". Why, no! its me! The day goes out scorched, and it was me that ailed it.
I go to buy shoe strings. I say to monsieur, "Have you shoe ties?" We have lazings! "Do you want lazings?" "I don't know", says she befogged.
It ended by a venture on one [part].
Miss G. attends a lecture on Proughgress. She fears in mind the finis for these pages, which is, "And be carried to their nuptial brown with anthems of immortal praise".
That's precious. Mr. W. approaches me on the subject of "model [recitations]" in Middlebury before [gums] and sour of [gums]. I am very much surprised.
Spoiled another day for my girls, and with O, yes, yes, yes, that there was help for it and comfort, and beatitudes not there.
There has been no interposition and I believed hard. Which means for Susie & I, "an everlasting No!" No here in [El...] it means a sort of choking, smouldering gum cotton, all along of the State Association and F. Bromley, Castleton! The girls befogged suppose that mysteries are working about them! O, No, only Model recitations [El...] gets the most of whatever it is. The amount of brain evolved is displayed all around, the [...] reminds me of Vashti or perhaps Edgar A. Poe. Overcome by the thought of what awaits the Association she falls asleep.
Did you ever hear of such a performance? Nobody did. The principal parts are. Go. Go it. No go! Passive Forms! The Model Recitation lies comfortably on my work basket, my satchel is robbed of its victim and here I am in brown dress and fixings at the donation! Miss child! How wise it was and is, and we all said so. What is like a country donation any way? Nothing but being a little girl and sitting down in some far back winter night with the old faces, the little round faces, them of some who are mothers now. Of some who sit and love us up in Heaven.
This morning we all came back bundled and fixed as you never was. And in the fresh crisp morning air why couldn't I shut my eyes and play it was Broad fields?
What is it to be back? Don't ask, only stir yourself up to think what an otherwise busy pretty piece of my life that State mountain howitzer has spoiled for me. No wonder I feel so good with the blessed relief of staying here, and not going near.
Act II. Sent five of the class home to write compositions. That's what we call bringing to terms. Not settled, as I should say for some things but, rather a stirring up a whew of things out of which should be thought forth a composition & a knowing better next time.
[from left hand margin]
Ellena. Jed. Luce. Auntie. H'm.
Miss Heath is a Hydrostatic Press, and what of it? Only a paradox. I laid down at the door as a first principle, (it was the principle that was laid down), that I could not go in, it was not to be thought of. She made me! She kept me! and two hours of my precious morning went out in a note book at Northrop's, a word with Eddie and that Miss Heath!
Long Pause, Dinner! And we went off over the hills to Laura's and took Miss Bissell, always genteel, brought her back, always one, Normal.
Can she now? Yes?
Elim on Sunday. O come and see then, if you would know. Sit down in it and hear what the pretty, dreamy little belongings will say to you. Was the half told you? "Winding down through the night", but the blessed daylight is full in the sunset behind us and in the day break before us and He shall compass me about with songs of deliverance! Wrote to Grandma. I am so glad I thought of it!
We do have to take big steps now and then, from the poetry into the prose. One thing I lay down for Frances, she must listen to me. "Don't let me hear one cross word this week!" Love your girls too well, please do. The prose I commenced with is grand to me. My life opens into such larger wide ways, and if I rest in poetry I work in prose and the work makes me so happy, poetry ripples in and the whole is like giving the little ones the kingdom!
A thread brought up from way back and afar off. A tender little thread that hurt so, a year ago, and the days that followed this last year. How near I lived to some thing, how sweet they were, how very hard and sad. How near Sue grew. How much we learned! and have since I shut my eyes and I'm there! To night I am riding with George and Eva through Market St. to Mr. Horne's. How plain I can see it all. Mr. Horne comes out in his study gown. Wonders a little to see us. Takes my letter, and we go over in Fourth St. to finish our ride. It took such a little while, but the thread broke and I came up here to begin again.
Mr. Williams is spouting down stairs and I hear him. I'll container! January is packing her trunk to leave us, and Spring is a little nearer. I have watched more than they that watch for the morning, and its so long! The day closed with a prayer meeting, but then the meeting had hovered in the air all day. "By me you shall go in and out and find pasture", and we all came, and found it.
It opened with a Caesarem vehis! February and Frances! The latter didn't storm, she carried Caesar. Miss Worcester is mad! Yet [quid] times! [Quid] sorry all of us! Of my letter there is little to say. It takes a strong strange hold of me as few letters on things ever do, and the afternoon, and the going down of the sun, the quiet dark to morrow's work, it has made beautiful, it is one of the meanings, one of the signs that life is to work out.
I was pretty good considering. I let patience work experience. Didn't get any further than that. Spun round furiously, and little new old book, let me tell you how that the finishing touches all found bright places and made a week for me. One round little week that has gone out into as many weeks as I have girls. Children of my week, for girls that belong to me, & for girls that shall belong to them, on and on. "The rivers run into the sea, yet is not the sea full?" Anne came up and I said, "Stay".
I can't look just as Miss Grose does when she says it but indeed "things is peculiar". Very! The sepulchered dormitories of the Normal School will be invaded no more until that key is put back. However I sit down to color lessons and twins with india rubber platitude, outwilliaming even R.G. (himself!) Sure enough.
By anb by Mary Bryant comes over and I put her on the feathers & try to shine up, a bright little hour in her life to stand out and look cheerily both ways over the dull dark ones. Dinner was taking up the cross. Outside snow fell bountifully. In the home I wrote color lessons until my eyes like two stars starts from their sphere. Inside is was beautiful.
A foot of snow says the Positive Declarative. The statistics relieve our minds. I spend much of the day in toasting. So would you. Its' [nill] to be all shut in by such pretty white walls and then send out dove after dove up into the blue, and feel as they come and go, the smell of hay and clover, and sweet alyssum from my summer home.
Patience Strong's Outings fits in like Chapter VI after Chapter V, all of it.
It had one verse. Shall I say it for you?
"And his tender mercies are over all his works".
Even a snow storm to happen is better than to depend on Sarah Kelly items. Its a good deal to understand a stove, especially ours. If you would see me without a rival behold me at and around that stove! Do! R.G. bethinks himself, and not unlike Van Winkle stoves around. He would like Frances, and she nothing [doth] lets every ear attend. A new term says he, "One to begin two to crow!" How does it crow?
Mr. Williams selections for family prayers tends to build one up! We get a great many "burdens of"! Its so unusual to hear from Mr. Sias, and more than that. He varies in a powerful manner. Which disposes of two subjects. The snow looks as if it might hear us any minute. Hear no money, see no money, lose faith in Frank Adams. Who's he. For [zions]! Stand forth in the age of bronze, and proclaim examinations to my girls. They've [read] to it to most anything.
And my hands keep busy [hive], while I think and think of my little girls down in Bennington, to come back, glad, or real disappointed.
Examination days tire me more than almost any others. Its a different kind ot tired. And we are on the last day of the old times. How dear every thing is getting! And as I think of it to night I am sure that all that is tenderest and closest I can keep always. I do like the work, and the girls, and the thoughts that are sent out and come back to tell me of the spring time that I look for with longing unspeakable.
In which I make [...] said on Frank Adams. It's destined for me that all my songs I must sing myself. So I struck off on this one, having wanted seven days for my friend W. Who ever knew me unequal to such an occasion? If you know speak now or be forever silent! I first encountered Miss Peck and a regular [Ike] marvel fire. After wards to my infinite satisfaction Frank Adams appears and we proceed to a long conversation briefly touching at the class on capital.
I go down to the bank but no Frank Adams. Boy goes out, but returns unto us void. Disappears again, returning bringing his sheaf with him. The sheaf does whatever's necessary to give me the survey, then informs me that Mr. Hope's picture is splendid, very fine. This was a cause. A first cause to a first effect. Weltha Annie Adams, Anne Phelps, Mathi Abbie Hattie, Nancy and Lucy go with me to see the picture. We were twice paid for there came out on the west of the sky a painting that night that went into the night and left the seven colors which is white light.
And I'm glad for I wanted it so much, and how could I wait to know? So I went over to Mr. Patterson's. Mary had gone to bed, could I wait? Wait. Of course I couldn't. The cushions were unruffled, not a track or a spot or a wrinkle or any such thing any where. Positively uncomfortably spotless. The old lady talked of health & school and headaches and dear me knows what, & I excitedly restless to know. How could she? "Has Mary passed?" I interrupted. "O yes, she got her certificate. Both of them did." Then Mary came down to tell me. "I know. I do know that he heareth me always!" This is the house Jack built not. To Rutland went not. "Drummer boy" saw not. Things took not off. Scolded not.
I feel pretty good to day. So does every thing. [Souls] of heaven was on earth, and there were foreshadowing of unrevealed fullness of joy, pleasures forevermore. Does light always reflect light? never shadows?
Jesus comes, let me know for sure that thou are near, and I shall say, "Abide with me for the day is for spirit". Make today, or it shall be lonely and dark.
Burnt hash for breakfast which put me in a very uncomplaining spirit. The first cause which is Truddie Brown is to the second cause which is accumulation of flesh and weariness, as the first effect which is death of smiling countenance is to the second effect which is unthankfulness!
Did at considerable, expected at on to and infinition! My eyes are not Tracie's. I shall weed harts home to keep them.
A cold back.
And a long long talk on into tea time with Marcy Bryant.
Quietly and not without touches of cheer, the days move on. I am so glad that Mary will listen to me, and let me do for her just as I want to. If I could only take her away somewhere and muse her, and see her well and strong it would make me real happy. I must let her feel that there are bright beautiful things to live for and a few things not all selfishness.
Out of the crimson we climb into the blue.
And I took comfort in doing up Patience Strong's Outings, and writing on the fly leaf Sue's birthday, & sending it tied on the Charles Dicken's edition to go to Williamsport.
A year ago to night was that sleigh ride with my boys and girls. It was such a funny time. Taking Sue to the doctor's, taking tea at Johnny Clark's & staying with Eva after the ride. Eva with her arms around my neck just as Weltha puts hers now.
"To see a light upon those Crows which is the day light only"
I am not writing this page at date, it is weeks later. Were it otherwise I could not write what I shall at this time.
My dear girl's wedding day.
Giving herself joyfully and yet with conscious fear to another so long as they both do live!
My Sue. My Austiss. Are you married through and through?
And yet, says her letter, they were happy after so many years!
O darling come close and know at the feet of his Christ!
And "beyond the sunset forever and forever are the hills of God".
I miss Neithesto ever so much, and look longingly toward the little place on my shelf where it stood. Pretty soon its coming back. I forgot all about Miss Bissell's birthday which was Wednesday. All along of writing up! Why not tell it now. How Miss Grose and I dressed up in attire beyond our years. How we sent Miss Bissell off and all the girls came in to see. How we called Miss Bissell and seated her in the bedroom while Nell acted in the capacity of pulling the sheet which hung in the door back & forth between the scenes. How Miss Grose got up the very taking little tableaus for me to enact alone and named it "The Velentine" because it was Feb. 14. How her little tableau was the [nap]. How we had a very suggestive little dialogue. The [boy] & rubbish & how hell say I then & how and
how the oysters bubbled up and almost stewed over in recognition of the fact that it was time to commence 1. incision. 2. mastication, 3. deglutition. How after my cap had fallen off and been readjusted and one dish of soup had sought its level the floor, I calmly [came] & read "An ode to Miss Bissell" and a programme to be carried out Feb 14 1873, both of which were duly presented to that lady. Then she of the cap that would not stay on but fell backwards unceasingly recited Mr. Chadbaud's two most celebrated speeches the first beginning "Why are we here my friends". Loud applause from the friends. All this on the eve of Feb. 14.
To day Sue's letter came. It was written the night before she became some one, little girl for aye.
How could I help it? I had to be a little sorry, but I didn't tell any body or take on, or let melancholy mark me for her own. But of it I thought and thought until the whole grew so real to me that it seemed as if Sue had been married a year instead of only since Thursday, and that I'd known her married and talked with her and wore off all the strangeness of the new name. And my thoughts went back to it and back and back, even while I sat at the window in the afternoon and drank in the fullness of my Sunday. My work over the examination papers left me tired but Sunday rests me. I sit down under His shadow with great delight.
And the world turns around or it would never be the twentieth. And there's good mornings to say and a chair to walk up to and sit in and fifths and sevenths to add and roots to extract and natural boundaries to give and kingdoms to explore, and adjectives to compare, and corollaries to think up, and trains to set in motion to go noiselessly on temples to bear without sound of axe or hammer.
I go to this. Do you suppose I think of it all? Not now, but by and by after tea when I go up to Elina and sit down, it will come over me and I will be so glad! And it does, even to night. The Father knoweth that I have need of these things.
The passing days do not leave any blank spaces. The living joins itself on and on to the old pieces and even our first poor work we have to wear. Let a day like this come, when the noun was more than ever noun and none of us verbs, then does Miss Grose rise to assume the benevolent shape of Mark Tapley. Miss Bissell comes wild possession of the body and temper of Gabriel Varden, and I try to be a Dinah, such as was dear to Adam Bide.
I am coming to look upon knitting as a fine art, and one that I would like to be skilled in. Happy Miss Grose.
There I dropped some stitches yesterday in my knitting and I must pick them up to-day. I was talking about Miss Grose and her knitting. Sometimes there are days when she don't pick up the shiny needles. Those are her hard days. Then bright days come full of letters from Howard and she laughs and goes quick to the knitting. My graduated scale of ups and down is not thus indicated.
You may look for it in me outward tokens [safe] now and then. Sometimes you can read it in the little old book.
I enjoy the delightful sense of being revered in the spirit of my [mind]. I suppose its all along of an expected tramp. It makes me feel good to lay out the things I am going to wear on the bed and look me over to see where the stitch in time shall [...] mine and all other suggestive poetical things, that make one about to tramp, furl loudly!
Half past eight, and I've marked it off in years, one by one. Ten times one are ten! When they go from us up into the mystery, if we could only know they were ours yet.
It seems so long to wait. O. God to clasp those fingers close and yet to feel so lonely!
"This is the way Vermont teachers do" says our philosopher and guide as we wheel off in the stinging air, bundled head and foot! Auspicious is every breeze and favoring every gole. Which suggests not only life and liberty but the pursuit of happiness. The man beguiled us and we did eat a great deal but Mr. Dana's box was not like the broken cisterns that held none. It was more like Mrs. Williams' excuses inexhaustible. All this and more on the train. We were conducted on our arrival in Bennington tenderly but fiercely from the train. Thence to the mansion of Miss Parks. We got in as Weltha would say with a "Known crew" but other fate lay wait for us and [...] their house opened wide its doors to us.
Thinks I. I like this! I'll come again. So thinks Sister Bissell. The folks were good to us. I forget their names and we were good to them. I forget how Sister Bissell leaves us at noon for the material roof, and I am consoled by Miss Clark. Our friend philosopher & guide R.G. surprised every body greatly by getting up to say that we had nothing to say on the subject of grammar but would introduce to the association Miss Bromley. Not less me! I might say, me much less. I remember, one distinct thrill, from the rest I shall never rally. Think of it! Scenes going home beggar all description. Mr. Williams and the small boys, Mr. Williams and us. "You sit here and here & here". We do wondering. Coffee and doughnuts and please picture the rest.
And we come trooping into the house to find it two o'clock and all things silent and desolate, which we soon reverse. I go to sleep laughing in an unheard of manner about Mr. Williams and the small boys and the coffee and doughnuts. Locked in slumber I dream of them and so does Mattie.
I talk some, read some and sleep a good deal. The other teacher does so too. I go to church and the most that I recall now of the service is small boys, and Mr. Willams, coffee, and doughnuts. If I remember right the singing affected me to tears. It often does.
Mr. Austin cannot take away from my firm belief in diagrams as a means of. It is a joy he did not give, therefore...., sing. I always like my school better when I have been off and seen folks and come back to it. What is maccaroni? Who first harrowed mankind with its being offered for sale? Why must it be set before me and no dessert but ginger snaps. A ginger snap is a desert, but maccaroni is dead men's bones!
The best thing we have set before our hungriness is rice pudding. How it came to be so good doth not yet appear, but it possesses many saintly qualities. We always have it with beefsteak. Such days too we smile on butter. Why all this but to make maccaroni more dreadful? I set faith on two [ch...], with from, in or by, my friend, Mrs. Foote. She duly promises me a Christian Unison which shall appear weekly. How long before I'll go and break the news to Miss Bissell.
Let me see. Where shall I hang my [...]. They will be done in oil and smile upon my whole room. I guess I'll clear a place for them on the bureau. Shall I put trust in [...]? Shall I know of a surety they will be here? or will all the Halicamassus tribe stand on their wall of unbelief and point at me.
Will not some guardian genius interpose and give Miss Bissell & I a theme to talk about at table? Minister thus, unto us, or we shall call upon the coffe cups, the soup plates, to hide us from the face of Mrs. W.
Again the big noise in our house was me. Twasn't bringing a trunk down nor taking a trunk up but taking Mr. Williams down and bringing life liberty and the pursuit of happiness up. Was supposed to but then people never do, when they go to work that way. You mustn't scold unless you want to ease your mind or see what you can do, or show a man that you are not afraid, or give him and idea of his [meanness] but to carry a point never. Take a silken shuttle and silken thread and spin a man into any thing you want, but don't scold him. Then I ran over to take tea with the girls.
What girls? Who do I tea with any more save Mary, Abbie and Mattie? Bless your heart, they're enough.
So would you have been surprised, as much as me. A real, live sleigh ride! Why I'd as soon thought to see John Brown's soul marching on, and there it was with Miss Heath and a boy and me to get right in, and go before the snow went. A bright thought was the offspring of this command, "I'll make them leave me at Miss G's". Apparently guiltless of my planning I ride and talk and listen to Miss Heath's fullest accounts of how she teaches Geography and how she has the asthma. I quietly ask when we reach the brown house if they'd as soon leave me there.
How did you live? Doing so.
Yes'm! Mr. Grose queries. Mrs. Grose wonders. Miss Grose interferes, and makes strong appeals. I listen but relent not. By and by the people come and we all sit around in the cosy kitchen for the covenant meeting. The covenant of His [pence] overshadows us and we sit under the shadow with great delight. Most of the words were spoken by men & women who had grown gentle and childlike in long year of walking with God. It is all so sweet, so restful, so unlike the strife & harshness of living young.
Is a vow any the less holy because a repeated one? Not to me. I feel more solemnly than I could possibly have done the first time what it is to pledge myself before God and his church to walk in love, in faith, in meekness, in Christian forbearance and self sacrificing [patience] with the people of God!
Jesus, come down into my garden, breathe upon it that the spicec may flow out!
And we both sleighed up from Hydevill, guessing what this week would bring. Pretty well I thank you. Mr. Hart who sits himself up to write "fax" says, it is unlawful to write "up", in diary keeping. Probably so. Nevertheless I write up, every Sunday! "A diary" says he "is a record of events". Mine aint, hence it is no diary. It isn't an editorial. Isn't and essay nor "News", nor Fiction. Its a treatise! Then, moreover being the product of a creative imagination must be versification!
Mr. Williams is on a perfect rampage. Stands primed and ready to go off any minute, usually. Lately he runs around to hunt up things to go off about. Hawklike in his nature he looks for a chicken and finds one, Miss G. The burden of the valley of vision. I've heard of four footed hearts and creeping things and fowls of the air! [Don't] remember to have seen, then combined before, which discourse admits of no further heads. Do I like Sarter Resartus? Yes'm.
Do I get cross any? Not much. There's untold sunshine down deep and it torches me and shines for me.
How can I tell it? Of course it was the prayer meeting. I mean The "Lo I am with you", made it holy and we came and rested. It was so dear to me to hear Lucy say in my car going out, "Please pray for me", and Abbie say, "I will try and pray more earnestly", and Anne say "Jesus is nearer than He has been for weeks", and by and by in the evening to hear Annie say, "I will speak next time". "A hundred fold in this life", That is all I can think of.
I am almost sure Addie has at last decided for Jesus. I wish the old happly look would come back.
Dear Mrs. Browning "It is beautiful!" The half [hear] after day break.
Our friend Master Willis Hyde is marched against. R.G. thinks Willie and his eggs are poles of the same battery and suggests something of the kind to him. Slightly [detestful] to Willis, who objects to such delicate insinuations.
Annie Adams looks like an untimely frost, bluely dreadful. We're all sorry but there's a never failing cure. Is Miss Patch cross. Patch? Dear me! knows! I should think it was! and without the best of my knowledge and belief. It's all been planned and I'm to be Barbara. Nice old lady to stick her head out of some illy fastened window and scream a la Grandma Nash, "Shoot if you must this old grey head". I see it all. However I must go back to United State Constituted
"Things is happening most years" all of which I affirm it my solemn intention to believe. Nothing could have made me out of sorts, for Susie's letter came, written by her own self, and it kept close to me every minute. "I shall never see the little home again. Does that look hard? It would be only the dear Christ has made it easy".
It seems easier now for me to fear it but I am not brave enough for the present to open the gate into the last three sermons. Not yet. I shall be stronger by and by, and there went in once more to composition which I stride, and much more which I stood and can stand and be not at all overpowered. I simply said, "Mr. W., Since I have been informed that questions are to be settled by force of power I have nothing more to say"! [Surrendeth].
The right proportions says Miss G. is an ounce of serpent to a pound of dove. She was in my room writing a cross letter, both of us cross every where but inside! We be, Miss Worcester wants to know, "Do I tabulate food, clothing diagram, what I don't tabulate? Do tell her. Sort of a meat hash Saturday afternoon. First we sat down in the midst of visual angles and took to [Phataswagon's]. Laura said several remarkably bright things, Mr. Williams prays with his eyes open. She wonders if it isn't time his convexity was nullified. Then we went at with [...] and there was bread to tend to. Annie is fixed for a breathing space, (in Mary's room, by the window). O, how it tires me! Sure of W. as she was never before, and she wrote and I'm glad, and I know now.
Spring does think kindly of us, does not forget, only we must wait, "For as long as hill and vole shall last. Will the green leaves come again". There was something for me in to day. A little. There are things that have never entered into the hearts of man. They are too grand for us, too full of the deep things of God, but reaches of them are for us, little types of what will be when we are kings and priests and can understand. While I was writing Addie's letter I drew near, just felt how much could be, and then after that it was S.S. & dinner, and such a tired tired [tiredoutativeness].
And this is how it came about, and its so fine to start out on firm decideds (Now) and see it safely through. It's so much better than having faith in Halicarnassus. That horse we drove, is of a very retiring disposition on the walk. When on the gris vive which is at rare intervals unless it is suggested, he is a modern acrobat. The harness like sails must no where to allow not only freedom but expansions. He neither ran nor sidled. He bounced up & down. His early childhood must have been spent in picking cherries from high trees! Wendell Phillips! The third attempt. The complete triumph!
And was it nice? O yes, my dear, and we'll have long talks about it for who could forget it? Daniel O [corrects]! and we learned things.
Another something that stopped; and I only stop once in long times to think of it. "Times driveth onwards fast, & in a little while our lips are dumb".
Miss Heath came up after school. Why am I always so uncomfortable after I see her? Why must we go over & over things we can't help? O for the quiet, calmed down, turned down, if need be, only let it reach me.
"Friend of sinners". I am in the dark, and bewildered and sick at heart!
A man has passed the window twice taken of butter. Out of the strong lately has come forth no sweetness.
"Wist ye not that I must be about the Father's business?" and in the meeting hour we listen and let the words touch us, the music is to be played out in the years. My years perhaps, that are full of things laid up, "prepared for you". It's so good to me lately, the thought of the joy and the rest of it. The joy of to day too, every day, even being taken down, clear down with Christ to learn.
Adjourned meeting of Miss G., Miss B. & Miss Br. at Mr. Spencer's. Who'd have thought it?
I think I can say with Paul, "I am ready to be offered". You soon get into that frame of mind if you come here. I have a sore finger, a stubbed toe and a pimple. When my hurry is very great, stirs me up, makes me top like. I'll immediately go to Miss Heath's. Get pulled in, made to stay " whether I will or no"! Miss Mason writes me from beyond the Missisippi! I hear and am glad.
Forty three dollars for tooting. More than it ever brought me in before! And there's a wee breath of spring, just a breath, and from some land a great way off.
O if breaths would stay, would come faster, would do anything to make the leaves come out. We are cheered by prospects of snow. Miss Grose takes herself off, and a prophet has left us. She's him.
All the poky things possible to be condensed in four walls take this howling wilderness as their business centre! Why can't some fertile arrangement be made simply & solely for me. (But first mother must marry a minister) by which I can be stricken out of existence each successive Friday night & take part in a resurrection Monday morning.
I have learned to fill my soul with a horror of Saturday. I am in horror over the long, dark hall, the sweeping around above below me, the orders from below, the inspection of drawers, the bell, the dinner, the mail box, the surveys by R.G. & M.E. But then I am not a ghoul. I ought to have a nice sense of propriety and if I did all this would be vital breath, native air.
[...] me away from the thoughts of so dreadful a fate ever to befall me. I rejoice not to be in the bosom of the family.
There comes such a gathering of sunshine as there has not been for weeks, a sign, one of the hesitating tokens of a coming April. Why didn't I go to church? Sunday isn't going out. The last of my Sunday is the sermon. It's so good to be all alone and think a whole Sunday is before me. The answer to my questions "where can we wash and be clean?", comes over me, like somebody's strong arm, making me safe and glad. "The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son cleanses us from all sin". Why did my talk with Miss B. wander back to Hoosick and Judge Ball?
A query has suggested itself to me. Am I a self made woman? Is it probably so? I'll ask Miss Grose! A verb is to be, to do, and to suffer. Mark Tapley said he was always a bein, sometimes a doin, and now and then sufferin! So be I! E.P. Whipple says in reading Emerson he feels like the English reader who had the delightful sensation that might have been his had he asked for in agricultural reports and been handed [...] mince pie. My sensations prolific or otherwise have all centered in bein and doin! Suffered but little as the Principal of the State Normal School saw me not! And I him not, and there was a great calm. The little flannel skirt for Grandma is all done.
I'll go on with my last sentence and say, and sent. I just get time to get into one day and look at it when it is another. Mr. Williams has gone to practice for the Peace Jubilee! Which suggests several things. I've been in several big things in my life but nobody ever knew of it. I never could get any body up to the feeling of it, or was able to convince them how big it was and I was the biggest thing it it, but let R.G. water his plants with hot water or play a flute, and [how] his name has gone out through all the world and his weather reports to the end of the earth. I did not scold any body and yet there were rough places that did not become smooth. O for infinite tact, infinite something. I can think of only one verse, and it was my last thought before going to sleep. "There is now therefore no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus".
A very interesting conversation at dinner. Mrs. W. to Mr. W. on seeing a trap, "The mice are not very fond of your society". No answer. "Is that your trap?" "No" "The mice are not very neighborly". Deepening frown. "Have?" "Did you set the trap?" "No what would I set a trap here for?" "It's a queer place for mice!" "No mice here at all". "I saw the trap and didn't know but you had set it". "I don't know anything about it". "I thought that it was all right if you had set it". "I didn't set it al all". "I supposed you'd set it there for some reason, and I thought it was a queer place".
My cold shows me that I am mortal, that I am of the earth, that I am not of the air.
We read Milton up in my room and Mary stays to talk. I can see faintly how that sometime there may be a help, for the trouble with Mattie. Not soon, but I can wait.
There is a sort of centering point in some days. To day it was Mattie. I watched her and watched, and watched, and it seems as if she couldn't hold out much longer with the trouble, but would have it settled. The anger has all gone out of her face, now, she is feeling [keenly] sorely.
I invested in a cramp today, none of your short lived ones, but an hour and a half kind. Have [...] cold i'd my 'ed!
Was unlawfully deprived of liberty, but bore it with a sweet submissive spirit, and Triffy was sent to proclaim liberty to the captives and the opening of prison to them which was still and holy, and Annie Adams spoke for the first time. The tea with the girls was so different from any other we ever had together, but Mary and I act our drama admirably for novices.
[After unmitigated interruption I will now sit down to my journal in peace. Tableaux begin and end all things. Wash ails Philip! Every where all over, come Philip's tread, "under a slouched hat left and right! Miss Bissell waxes wroth. Very! All of us get "afraid", and crouch down under the shadow all protecting of our "walor"! For we wrestle with the ruler of darkness in high places!] It seems so strange to me to have one trouble take hold of me so and possess me until my heart goes out of my work, and work drags. Annie only guesses what it may be and she says, "It will all come out beautiful, all the hard things do". Mattie and Mary came over and I got Mary off early, then by and by I said, "Mattie are we ever going to understand each other again?" She broke down in a minute and after a long cry she told me all about it.
A shower of snow flakes,that shot downwards, and quivered and fell all about us, not guessing in the wildest flight of their dreaming fancies that it was the 23rd of March, and that down here the sun was shining! And so all things have been to day softly, hurriedly leaving no sound. Saturday has not come to the top to day. My highest order of standing is falling and a day over examination papers is worse than a thousand, if your eyes ache, and your back, and you can't sit comfortably with your feet up, and have to, what then? Mary and I plan campaigns with renewed vigor, and this time, it's Addie. I lay on the bed and toss around.
Is there not a land of peace beyond my door. O lead me to it. Give me rest.
Poor little sick Addie, and I've had her in my arms all day, while I was on the bed beside her. I learn lessons hard, all my lessons, but to day I have been learning slowly, seeing a little way, wondering, praying, and I may get it. It isn't Addie. Everything is all right & happy with her, but the little things the girls have said. That worries, and hurts like knives, and it is so tender and sorry where the hurt strikes.
I wonder if Annie is any thing like Emery Ann! She flies around just like her [forzino]. Mrs. Granger shakes her head at me and emphasizes!
I do not feel brave to night, more crushed and pitiful than for a long time. Is it because my girls are so very near that they rebound from everything, or am I a female bear?
"Closer than a brother", closer. O, my Lord, for I am in the dark.
Well its all strange. Anyhow I am all mixed up! My troubles after assuming the shape of comes, pimples, colds, stomache, Barbara Fristchie's, and compositions have taken a form, which I can not define but will proceed to illustrate. In the new scenes of Philip's marching, I am given a dramatic personas and act it [...] & Philip sees me. Perfectly unconscious of Philip on drama, I behold Philip rise and leave without my best of knowledge and belief! Philip is still marching on! My affections linger, around that office, and my solicitude is contrary to the hypothesis.
Let me write a cheery word now. Mattie is real happy and every thing is so bright and clear for both of us, in the reading each of the other. Can you guess how good it is?
The old prayer of a year ago is on my lips. "Lord I am oppressed. Undertake for me."
In which we are all Philips and march. It snows and every body don't come to see. For particulars are large bills! If I have any preference as to character or costumes I think I appear best as a none! I shall never cease to have a tender affection for Barbara. I always reached her as an exceedingly brave old lady. Well worth being handed traditionally dowry but now, my interest in her is all absorbing! I want to know all about it! How high up she was, where she set the staff, what she was doing when they fired, and how she caught it, and how she was prevented from being shivered, and if she said her past as Mr. Williams told me to say it! I am still enquiring.
That office yields to me its ear attentive. I meet the High Priest when I meet about as often as the Jewish law requires. Carry no turtle doves or young pigeons. Haven't any.
In which I find time to pity myself, and bend and [slackens] in the storm!
The pivots on which the State turns, came down upon us at the first class. We all came in in the afternoon without feathers, we had been picked clean, and not even the little sprout of me is left to tell where they were.
The rest of it is hard. I can bear hard things. I do not ask sweet cordials to like them with, and I can bear this.
"To distal the one elixir, patience." Must there be another crucible, and another, and another? Will I learn?
I shall be careful how I give two roots to form an equation next time. One of them has proved to be the root of all evil, and the other three more!
My cold assumes new forms, shuts my throat full and backs me in every thing that I do!
Am shut out from society, and the way to be happy she found she had got not! I suppose I ought to be let alone, when I'm still down stairs and say nothing, but I can't talk today!
I turn to that dear little poem by H.H. and say it again and again. The sunshine on the long windows, says things and I pray that bearing oneself still royally may be for me. Me under the sunshine [pour] the long windows.
Where nothing happened except chicken for dinner and a better back.
Winter is a continued story, and bless me what a chapter this is! I hear nothing from Philip and I can't get ready yet, to let Philip hear from me! But why agitate?
I am seeing a little further on, and am learning to feel the force of those words that have come over me so many, many times. "How vain is all architecture save that which is not made with hands! And the face with the trouble and the work is growing paler and thinner, and still the architecture is vain & vanishes even before the tired eyes.
If ever I was dragged to [use] in this world against my will, it has been to day.
Spring is waiting to be [woved], and so is somebody else. Well!
A stand borrowed brought over to Elina, put down by the register. Rocking chair drawn up. Frances in it, never off it, still upon it.
By and by three parcels are tied with strings and I live, several blessed minutes.
I am next seen investing in soap. Honey soap, three cakes.
I am going down into something this Saturday night, it may be, a hard dark way, but I feel and know that I can go!
"It is a far better thing that I can do than I have ever done. It is a far, far better [rest] that I go to than I have ever known". It seems to me (as I wrote Susie) that "Twenty three" is such a sweet fulfillment, so like death challenging the strong. March dies in just such a storm as father did. Such storms bring it back even over ten years! across and far back.
A beautiful sermon and the text was Twenty three!
The righteousness and joy and peace in the Holy Christ might have helped me to prepare for the hard things that are coming, but they came not or I knew them not. But the glad Easter time is come, and all of heaven is nearer.
"The night is far spent. The day is at hand", read Mr. W. this morning. If he had written it, it would be the day is far spent, the night is at hand! Such cheerful things!
Everybody's soul is on their guard, and imaginations grow creative! Not a bell was heard.
We walk continuously and are not communicative! Every five minutes no matter where we are the hall or the skies, or the house shakes with a peal of fun. Every body's at it. The best joke of to day was inguinal with our friend Mary. She went todwn stairs informing Mathi that she was to make a cake. Came back & was called for to go to the pastor, asking Mathi as [reparting] request to tend to that cake. Mathi's patient soul goes down to tend to cake, & Mary &
Arbis laugh away as to this time.
Said I, "Diagrams", "I had a large high cap made of goats skin".
One of them.
A look of love in the eyes of April a soft glad sunshine coming down. I would not let anything keep it from me. It all began with a query. Shall I send for Miss Worcester, or after everything has opened my eyes or shall I say to the Dr. that I can't do it? Since the whole trouble started and has been carried on by her, I cannot feel that I have any amends to make and I shall not so I wrote to Dr. F. What will come of it I know not. It may cost me my place, but I will be just to myself. The rise of notions such in & out of my head to day, as if I were drowning, perhaps I am.
I feel that I have been sent as an apostle into the world to teach cut root. From present appearance the undertaking promises to be a solemn one. How shall they teach except they be sent? How shall they hear without an extracter? In most cases possibly not! I am an inspector of buttons and three are gone!
All seems quiet along the Potomac to night, but I suppose there is thunder on the horizon as well as dawn.
Lot has not entered into Zoar.
The sun has not risen.
The face is not lifted nor the vision clear!
It was supposed in [Cornell] several families also have that I should this day break off from the present stem, and go, but nay, not so. Anne is off and away without me. And here I have been all this time intending to tell that tomorrow is fast day. The principal thing is not getting wisdom this day, it's getting off.
Sarah Enright is here, and it seems nice to see her. "For our God is a sun and shield". What made this come to me this morning? How glad it makes me. It's good to feel that His is a sun, but it does not help me today, that His is a shield why it fills me full, and I'll abide under the shadow of the Almighty.