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Vassar. Feb. 23- 1871.
Daar friend Alvah.
Really I think there is danger that I shall never receive
another letter from you, unless I answer your last without much more
delay. So - Vassar to Ann Arbor, greeting.1 Thanks for all the descrip-
tions, and the photo. I enclose a very poor picture of our college build-
ing - the best I could find at the time I bought it. It will save counting
all the windows and doors for detailed description.
Yesterday our flag was at half mast on account of the death of the
lady principal. She had been failing for some time, yet her death was a
shock to the college- She died within an hour or so of tea time. The
dining hall that evening was almost oppressive in its quiet - I would not
have believed that its usual clatter could be hushed to such stillness.
She must have been a gifted woman. Even the girls who disliked her
always showed admiration for her ability. They often tell me I do not
know how different the college was under her active supervision. Since
I came, she only appeared In chapel once, and at the table two or three
times. I heard her address the girls perhaps three times, and could easily
believe the stories they told of her remarkable gifts-
With this exception, we have jogged on quietly through the winter-
I wonder what a dozen Ann Arbor boys would do transplanted to our
atmosphere of such propriety and order. Often I would be glad enough to
see a little mischief, if only it could be funny enough to be worth having.
Oct. 15, 1865 - 2695
r 1
The tame pranks that are all our most lrrepessible girls can execute,
are hardly enough to elicit a smile.
So you are "twenty two years old - almost a quarter of a century
1 "cannot Imagine how aged you feel"—— You "believe lain twenty six.
Am I not"——— Now isn't that cool? Indeed! Do you suppose I will con-
descend to a word in reply to such a speech?
As for the Ann Arbor ladies, I wish them success, and am inclined
to add the wish that I were with them. I want to see them do finely, and
so answer the manifold objections that have been made to admitting us to
the universities. Only this afternoon, a very lovely girl was telling me
how she had wished that she could enter there the moment the doors were
open. Circumstances, however, kept her here. I am a little surprised
at the proposition of ladles in your different departments - Law, one —
Medical, twenty - Did I ever tell you that I believe my Mother would be
glad to see me a physician? I am sorry myself, occasionally, that I have
no taste In that direction - I am pleased to see women taking places in
this field - surely an appropriate one - but if I were a man, the medical
profession seems to me the last I should choose - certainly being a woman
does not make It more attractive, in the present state of public opinion-
Don't misunderstand me - I am a physician's daughter, and am
proud of the noble profession - But I have no bent in that direction myself.
Mar. 12, 1868 - 2696
I am glad you are so well pleased with your studies, and hope you
will meet with full success -
Thank you for counting me on your fingers, among your friends.
Do you indeed remember the talk we had at the gate of my home, so
long ago? 1 had supposed of course that was among the forgotten things
to you - I remember I was very much in earnest - no more so than I
should be now, if I began to speak on the same subject. Time has not
made me feel a firm religious faith a less vital thing.
I wonder how or where I shall see you next summer - You speak
of returning to Ann Arbor - where I certainly shall not be - Will you
not be at home during the vacation? As for myself, my plans are too
indefinite to be called plans at all. I presume I shall visit my friends a
month or so after commencement, and then go W est.
As for our old acquaintances, I hear from Miss Wright, of course.
She is working quite hard in school, and I fear that her health is by no
means perfect - Agnes is well, and writes me long letters - Ada Lake
is, I suppose, at Titusville, as she and Orville were on the point of going
there some weeks since. Your beloved old friend. Prof. Homer P. has
given up preaching, and settldd down permanently in charge of an academy
at St. Johnsbury, Vt. Dont you envy the boys and girls on whom his glasses
will beam?
Feb. 13, 1868 - 2697
Belle Axigell I see every day* She has been very cordial to me,
and we have become good friends. I like her for herself, as well as for
the kindness she showed me when 1 came here, a stranger-
I have just noticed that it is "about the first of March" that you
speak of leaving Ann Arbor* So if you are elsewhere, I can only trust
to the postmaster's forwarding this letter * and, as the Irishman said -
"If you don't get this, let me know." I shall be glad to hear from you,
whenever you feel disposed to write. Remember me to Eddie Mark, if
you meet him * Did you ever know the Hayman boys * Wayne and Frank *
who used to live at Fredonia, and are now both at A.A. * sophs I believe?
Frank used to be a crony of my brother Charlie's, and I was quite pleased
with his appearance last summer. I should like to know how he stands
in college *
Sincerely your friend
Lucy M. Washburn.
To Alvah Weaver
Daar friend Alvah.
Really I think there is danger that I shall never receive
another letter from you, unless I answer your last without much more
delay. So - Vassar to Ann Arbor, greeting.1 Thanks for all the descrip-
tions, and the photo. I enclose a very poor picture of our college build-
ing - the best I could find at the time I bought it. It will save counting
all the windows and doors for detailed description.
Yesterday our flag was at half mast on account of the death of the
lady principal. She had been failing for some time, yet her death was a
shock to the college- She died within an hour or so of tea time. The
dining hall that evening was almost oppressive in its quiet - I would not
have believed that its usual clatter could be hushed to such stillness.
She must have been a gifted woman. Even the girls who disliked her
always showed admiration for her ability. They often tell me I do not
know how different the college was under her active supervision. Since
I came, she only appeared In chapel once, and at the table two or three
times. I heard her address the girls perhaps three times, and could easily
believe the stories they told of her remarkable gifts-
With this exception, we have jogged on quietly through the winter-
I wonder what a dozen Ann Arbor boys would do transplanted to our
atmosphere of such propriety and order. Often I would be glad enough to
see a little mischief, if only it could be funny enough to be worth having.
Oct. 15, 1865 - 2695
r 1
The tame pranks that are all our most lrrepessible girls can execute,
are hardly enough to elicit a smile.
So you are "twenty two years old - almost a quarter of a century
1 "cannot Imagine how aged you feel"—— You "believe lain twenty six.
Am I not"——— Now isn't that cool? Indeed! Do you suppose I will con-
descend to a word in reply to such a speech?
As for the Ann Arbor ladies, I wish them success, and am inclined
to add the wish that I were with them. I want to see them do finely, and
so answer the manifold objections that have been made to admitting us to
the universities. Only this afternoon, a very lovely girl was telling me
how she had wished that she could enter there the moment the doors were
open. Circumstances, however, kept her here. I am a little surprised
at the proposition of ladles in your different departments - Law, one —
Medical, twenty - Did I ever tell you that I believe my Mother would be
glad to see me a physician? I am sorry myself, occasionally, that I have
no taste In that direction - I am pleased to see women taking places in
this field - surely an appropriate one - but if I were a man, the medical
profession seems to me the last I should choose - certainly being a woman
does not make It more attractive, in the present state of public opinion-
Don't misunderstand me - I am a physician's daughter, and am
proud of the noble profession - But I have no bent in that direction myself.
Mar. 12, 1868 - 2696
I am glad you are so well pleased with your studies, and hope you
will meet with full success -
Thank you for counting me on your fingers, among your friends.
Do you indeed remember the talk we had at the gate of my home, so
long ago? 1 had supposed of course that was among the forgotten things
to you - I remember I was very much in earnest - no more so than I
should be now, if I began to speak on the same subject. Time has not
made me feel a firm religious faith a less vital thing.
I wonder how or where I shall see you next summer - You speak
of returning to Ann Arbor - where I certainly shall not be - Will you
not be at home during the vacation? As for myself, my plans are too
indefinite to be called plans at all. I presume I shall visit my friends a
month or so after commencement, and then go W est.
As for our old acquaintances, I hear from Miss Wright, of course.
She is working quite hard in school, and I fear that her health is by no
means perfect - Agnes is well, and writes me long letters - Ada Lake
is, I suppose, at Titusville, as she and Orville were on the point of going
there some weeks since. Your beloved old friend. Prof. Homer P. has
given up preaching, and settldd down permanently in charge of an academy
at St. Johnsbury, Vt. Dont you envy the boys and girls on whom his glasses
will beam?
Feb. 13, 1868 - 2697
Belle Axigell I see every day* She has been very cordial to me,
and we have become good friends. I like her for herself, as well as for
the kindness she showed me when 1 came here, a stranger-
I have just noticed that it is "about the first of March" that you
speak of leaving Ann Arbor* So if you are elsewhere, I can only trust
to the postmaster's forwarding this letter * and, as the Irishman said -
"If you don't get this, let me know." I shall be glad to hear from you,
whenever you feel disposed to write. Remember me to Eddie Mark, if
you meet him * Did you ever know the Hayman boys * Wayne and Frank *
who used to live at Fredonia, and are now both at A.A. * sophs I believe?
Frank used to be a crony of my brother Charlie's, and I was quite pleased
with his appearance last summer. I should like to know how he stands
in college *
Sincerely your friend
Lucy M. Washburn.
To Alvah Weaver
