[Letter of 1867 March 3]

[Letter of 1867 March 3]

1867-03-3

Friendship

Loneliness

Anderson, Caroline Still, 1848-1911 [recipient]

image/jp2

Correspondence

This material is made available for private study, scholarship, and research use. For access to the original letter or high-resolution reproduction, please contact the Charles L. Blockson Afro-American Collection (blockson@temple.edu; 215-204-6632).

Temple University Libraries, Charles L. Blockson Afro-American Collection

William Still Collection

Blockson manuscripts

William Still Collection

Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Libraries

blockson@temple.edu

BMS010X0040

Philadelphia,March 3, 1867/ My Dearest Friend/ I have been cherishing/ the hope that I should hear from/ you this week. You know how exacting/ and inconsistant[sic] love is. I went/ a round to your Mama’s last week/ it was so lonely without you darling/ I did not say much about you/because I could not [?]/ was so kind and affectionate/ it really [hardly?] compensated for/ your absence. I tried to feel as/ though you was just out to Rebecca’s/ or some other of your haunts./ Thursday night came and I made/ up my mind I would not go because/ you was not here to send a little/ note telling what time you would/ call. but my cousin Charlie called/ in the afternoon and wanted/ me to go so I went. The lecture was/ good very fine the singing beau/ tiful. Kate La[?] and Miss Turnbull/ read very nicely indeed. In/ appearance and manners she/ resembles Anna Dickinson/strikingly./Cad do you remember the Sunday[sic]/ night you left one week ago/today, and I asked you if/ you was going to have any/ [correspondents?] and you/ said you hoped not as you/ would have no time to attend/ to them. When I did not hear/from you I thought that I/ was included in the number/ I tell you this Carrie because/ I had rather be front and/ write to you as I used to talk./Will you forgive me my pet?/ and I thought I would write/ to you first because probably I had/ more time than you./ Since you have been gone I/ have been completely lost. it/ seems to me as if my last/ friend was gone. I go up stairs/and read your notes and come/ down stairs and cry oh I am/ truly unhappy./ “The days are long the nights are drear/ And time rolls slowly on.”/ Will has come up and been kind/ and pleasant and acted as if/ he wanted to take your place/ just as though he could but I am/ afraid of him he is too changable[sic]./ I wrote him a letter last wed/ nesday night after I came home/from church but I did not give/ it him./ This beautiful Spring morning/ finds me as usual feeling/badly about some thing. I got/ all ready for church when every/ thing conspired to keep me/ at home so I took off my/ things and remained. I/ thought of you which immediately/ dispelled of vexation and I was/ half inclined to go but no. I thought/ I would keep my word. so I sat/ down to write to my sweet/ precious one./ Carrie I went to the Opera/yesterday Mrs Lynch and I./ went to a matinee in the after/ noon and I never felt worse/ a bout spending a dollar/ before in my life but oh it/ was so beautiful, such en/ trancing music. They played/ the “Bohemian Girl”. We sat in/the dress circle. I feel now/ condemed[sic] I did not before/ but it was my first and/ shall be my last visit to/ the Opera./