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September 1, 1918
September 8, 1918
September 15, 1918
September 22, 1918
September 29, 1918
Dearest boy,
I love you. We were down to the Savage homestead tonight and I just hated to go in the parlor. You should have been there. Your cousin, Jack Savage was there and he played the piano, but he didn't play the pieces such as you would have played.
Our garden is simply beautiful, the (colius?) is about four feet high and so is our rose bush. I picked two wonderful roses from it and some heliotrope. I am sending you just a little with my love.
Lucinthia and her girl friend, Ruth Adams, are to be here until Tuesday and Winnie is staying here with me and everything is arranged to make me happy.
Lucinthia, Ruth, Winnie and I walked over to the river today and there was a swing in which we swung way out so far and the view was simply magnificent. We could see the whole of the river and the different shades of green in the valley caused, I suppose, by the grass being cut at different times.
Your mother just showed me our little glass - the glass of our first skating party.
We were supposed to take a trip by machine to Waterbury but as the government has requested that no pleasure cars be used on Sunday we didn't go.
Your Aunt Kate, Cousin Martha and her husband drove by today with your Uncle Ernest Butler and they stopped and talked for a while.
We stopped in at the Hubbard's for a few minutes and only Mrs. Hubbard was home.
We gathered some wonderful rich purple astors in the meadows today also butter and eggs.
I like this house very much, dearest, and not only because of the apple and pear trees outside. There are most a million fine places in it seems to me.
We stopped in to see your Aunt Elizabeth a few minutes and later she came down to the house.
Your Uncle Bill was as teasy as ever. Most the very first thing he did was ask me if I hadn't stopped at the big flower garden on my way down - the reason being my daisy pin.
I saw your friend "Curly" on the front of the car but didn't really get a chance to see him to speak to.
It is late dearest, so I'll kiss you goodnight.
Your Sweetheart, Me
Sweetheart,
Today Lucinthia, Ruth, Winnie and I have been down to the river. To swim, dearest, and I actually went in and wasn't afraid once and "honor bright." I almost learned to swim. I was so pleased as I thot, after my past experiences, I would never get up nerve enough to get wet much beyond my ankles but I did. First Ruth and then Lucinthia held me up by the chin and I actually wasn't afraid much. I'm so glad. I want to be big and brave and strong and wise about everything for you dear.
We had a fire on the beach and fried eggs and bacon and roasted corn. It was a feast to be long remembered.
We walked up to Blow Hole and there found some turtlehead flowers and lots of other new flowers. Lucinthia and I climbed way up on the banks to see the swallows nests, too.
This afternoon we took a trip "over the hills" to Waterbury. I never saw anything to compare to the views all along the way. It was just too wonderful for words.
I saw our cup tonight - our December 17th cup. Your mother showed it to me.
Oh I love you, dearest. A goodnight kiss,
Eva
Dearest,
We didn't get up as early as might be this morning. I can't imagine why.
Lucinthia and Ruth went home today. Winnie is to stay the rest of the week to keep me company.
We took the girls to Hartford and while there did some shopping and your dad brought us home in the machine.
I picked up a few apples and pears tonight. They certainly are good. Don't you wish you were here to eat 1/2 of mine? I'm wirelessing you a tiny one ('cause you can't send very large ones by wireless).
It is late dearest boy. I love you.
Eva
Good morning and here's three kisses to start the day right.
I love you.
Your Sweetheart
Sweetheart
This morning I was a regular housekeeper. I watched your mother make rye bread, chocolate cake and several good things. I'm afraid someday I'm, going to try them out on you - that is providing I'm not executed before I get a chance as I'm going to give Bricktop the first dose.
I went to Hartford this afternoon - all by myself and met Winnie at her office as she wanted to take me out this afternoon. We went to the movies and then went back to the office and came home with your dad.
The papers are full of good news, dearest, and I just hope and pray it won't be long before I can take you, my sweetheart, in my arms and oh just love you so. I've just lots of kisses saved for you. Goodnight, sweetheart.
Eva
Dearest,
I heard a letter from you tonight - a letter to your mother. Oh I was so glad to hear something from you. It's an awful wait for letters, I'm sorry you haven't gotten any of my letters yet or any from your mother but just you wait!!!!
Winnie's uncle, Mr. James Chalmers and his wife came down to visit them tonight.
We were down to the house to bid the folks good-bye. Your Uncle George gave me a box of candy. Wasn't that nice of him?
I looked over some of your childhood pictures this morning and a few more tonight. Goodness how I could have loved you then.
We were going down to the Couche's tonight as it was Mrs. Couche's wedding anniversary but Mrs. Couch wasn't home.
Ralph rather expects to be home from camp in two weeks at least he says there are rumors the boys will be given a furlough.
I bid our garden good-bye sweetheart in case I shouldn't get back again for a while. I didn't want to take any chances of going away without telling it of your letter and sending a message from the red rose aerial.
I love you dearest and I'm waiting.
Eva
Dearest, I'm way out in the country by Unionville with your dad. He has gone to look at a house, so I'm taking the time to send you a kiss, I love you.
Eva
Dearest,
I just found two more sheets of paper in my pocketbook and a new pencil so I will write more.
This morning I saw lots of pictures of a little boy friend of mine and once he was crying and all because on Christmas morning he'd been taken away from the table and his orange to have his picture taken. Wonder if he ever did get back to the orange!
I wish you were here dearest, it is so quiet and beautiful and hilly and misty and a cricket.
I was invited to some sort of a tea this afternoon but your dad helped me to run away. I came down to the train to help your Aunt Lucy off and also get something for Winnie's birthday tomorrow but the stores were closed.
Your Dad met us and asked if I wouldn't like to see some more country. I said yes but there was a tea party on. He immediately called the telephone into use and fixed things - so here I am a thousand mile from everywhere and far away but near you.
I love you.
Eva
Dearest,
I wonder how the Sunshine's holding out? Got lots all saved up for me, along with curls and s'prises, and all the other nice things, and your own blessed self? You will tell me that's a foolish question, perhaps. But I just like to think of it.
I've spent a rather busy Sunday today. I sort of expected to take a day off this Sunday and take somewhat of a bicycle ride out into the country. But it didn't materialize as I found enough to occupy most all my time at headquarters, end-of-the-month reports, etc. I did take a ride in the car out as far as a big sawmill up north away, with the Major. On the way back we stopped at an old abbey which is just at present being used as a store house. It must have been a splendid church at one time, but it's all gone to pieces now. It's a mediaeval abbey with a big courtyard in the center. In the middle of the courtyard is a deep well, with best water I've tasted in "France. There isn't a window in the building, and I guess it hasn't been used for ages. Next time I go out I'll try to think and get some picture postcards of it which they sell there.
Some of the others went swimming today, and I think I'll try to get a chance next Sunday if we're still around. I don't believe I've had a swim all summer, any more than I skated at all last winter. But the latter sport without a certain person I know who used to beat me at hockey, would be decidedly in complete. And for the former I believe I've been engaged as an instructor, haven't I? So you belong with both. If our honeymoon is in the summer, we'll have to find our far away place somewhere by a nice fresh water lake, and can begin the lessons then.
A good-night kiss for my Sweetheart. I love you best always.
Sylvester
Dearest Eva,
By now I think you must almost know I am in France. I should think my first letter from here would be about with you.
Today had been Labor Day but not celebrated as a holiday in the American Expeditionary Forces. I guess I didn't think of it until I read the President's Labor Day speech in the Paris edition of the Chicago Tribune. It measures up to his usual fine standard.
I'm wondering if Lew Adams is shaking in his boots now that the conscription ages have widened from 18 to 45. He was always allowing as how he was glad he was out of it, and they'd have to come take him. Perhaps he's changed his mind before now. At any rate I guess it won't worry him much. He appeared to take things pretty much as they came as I knew him. I hope to hear someday (I suppose it's not a very pleasant way to talk, but then it's so) that Carey has been inducted. He ducked pretty successfully on the first draft, But I can't imagine his claims to being a necessary agricultural laborer can last forever. At least he was frank in his desire to keep out of the army. Perhaps that's one better than some of those just too old to be drafted who sit back and say how they wish they could be with the boys. Both kinds I guess aren't very plentiful now.
Everybody seems to have the undercurrent of feeling that we're in the closing period of the war. The French think the Americans are marvelous, for the energy with which they go at things; they all express themselves that way. The full force of America's great army here hasn't yet been delivered, and I'm thinking that when it is the old boy that's running things across the lines will begin to scratch his head, at least. The English and French have surely been putting in some good strokes the last couple of weeks. They're getting back to where I lost the bet with J.M. Davis the spring of 1917.
We-e-ll, I'm a-goin' ter say Good-night to my Lady.
I Love You. Yep!
Goodnight Dearest,
Sylvester
Dearest,
This has been a busy bustling little city to-day; it's been an extra big market day, and in addition to the regular goods displayed for sale in the market place, great herds of cattle and sheep have been driven into the city from the outlying districts; and many people would come in with a box full of geese or a calf or other livestock in the back of their wagon. So there have been a lot of people in town. I think I spoke of our mess being in an old restaurant. It's only patronage is on these fair days, and we agreed to let the lady use our main room on those days for her guests. There was a big soiree in there to-day. The French have a custom, queer to us, of bowing to everyone in the room, or rather to the whole assemblage, just as they enter the door, whether they know them or not. Usually one or two come in during every meal, and the men tip their hats and mumble "Bon jour, messieurs". If soldiers, they salute us. Men tip their hats to each other here a great deal. The French are a very polite people in every way. The little children are great mimickers, especially on the American salute. They all have it down to perfection, even to standing up to attention when an American officer goes by, and they get all the snap that is expected of the American soldiers into it, too.
I'm not learning French very fast; too busy with other things, and dealing with Americans all the time, so without some conscious effort, won't absorb it nearly as fast as I would if I were here under different circumstances.
Eva dear, I miss you so very much. But it's so good to know that you are back there, my good time Sunshine Lady, loving me and waiting for me. You don't have any idea how much I think of the golden Sunny days there are ahead for me and for us.
All my, dear, and a kiss for good measure.
Sylvester
Dearest,
I have been reminding the Major at odd times to-day that it's just a year since I met him, and Supply Train officers first got together; when he was a first lieutenant and we all 2nds, with out experience yet in making and handling soldiers - "newly fledged officers" as Mr. McMillan would have it eight or nine months afterward. If you'd like a nice story for him sometime I'll try to think up a blood curdler, only troops are not allowed to send anything home for publication. I've surely got to pay Mr. MacMillan back some day for that cruel clipping. Trouble is, he'd always have a chance at the last word: some thing like this might appear when a certain couple who used to skate together left town for parts unknown to anyone else: "The bride was attired in green and white burlap, with cerise plush trimmings. The groom's present to the bride was a prodigious garden hoe. Well, old man, it was a good start, and best of luck", etc. etc.
Deck and Greenie have just come back from some what of an extended business trip, although of course they managed to make it partly a pleasure one. they were in Paris a day and two nights and saw some of the wreckage caused by the long distance gun we read about in the spring, and experienced having the city in total darkness in the evening, they say, however, that everything is almost the same as in peace times. Deck knows Paris quite well, having spent several months there a few years ago. There is one church there from which quite a piece was blown by a bomb from a German aeroplane awhile back on a fete day when there were a lot of people there. The Germans had made an arrangement thru the Pope whereby the French promised not to fly over German towns on that day while they were holding their fetes also. Well, the day came, and Mr. Hun appeared with the above playful little trick.
It's getting most time for another batch of mail. Don't you think so? Goodnight and be a good girl.
Your Sweetheart,
Sylvester
Dearest,
It is midnight now and I have just returned from a trip of somewhat over a hundred miles by motor. That is, each way. The Major, Leviseur and myself started out right after supper last evening, and reached our destination; about half past one after a long search for rooms we finally got thru in an American Officer's Club. There were two occupants already the Major's and my room and they didn't seem overly pleased about having the light turned on them. I was afraid if they saw me writing a letter they would be doubly put out at having light on and making them lose sleep (as it seemed to bother them) for that purpose. So I hope you will forgive me that I remembered you with a thought instead of an actual letter, and being a matter of outside circumstances and not a too tired excuse or anything. You won't think it a break of my promise. As it was after I hustled and got the lights out inside of 3 minutes, I guess a great bevy of cats began competing in vocal music outside, which must have been far more distracting than the lights.
I was on the go all day up there until we started back. We had more of the daylight coming back and it has been an interesting trip, of which more to-morrow. I must get to bed now.
With my best love for my Sweetheart,
Sylvester
Dearest,
I have been a bit under the weather to-day, nothing serious, but at any rate, don't believe I could do justice to a very long account to-night. I just want to say that your little curl is still with me, so you see part of you is away over here, and I treat it once in a while just as I would like to treat you, if we were only together. For we just belong together, don't we? I love you dear.
Your Sylvester
Dearest,
Honor bright I meant to write to you yesterday but it wasn't my fault. We played 500, and had the fireplace going and giggled and talked so much the 7th just slipped away and let me whisper "It is after one."
Everyone of us, your dad, mother, Winnie and I have been rather full of fun, to put it mildly and we have been having one grand time.
I got a letter from you today. It was #12 so I have much to look forward to in Pleasantville. It was so good to get a real live letter from you to me.
Your mother gave me one of her wedding presents, a silver bon-bon spoon, or sugar sifter. Wasn't that lovely of her? She also gave me a picture of a certain bad (?) boy pulling a cat's tail - and a Yale banner.
It is way, way late, dearest, and I have to get up rather early tomorrow so I'll kiss you good night. I love you.
Eva
Dearest. I am most ready to go. Your dad is going to New Haven with me.
I love you. Eva
Dearest,
I am on my way back to the hills of Pleasantville again. Your dad brot me down to New Haven and saw me safely on the car and your mother gave him special instructions to "ask questions" and be sure I got on the right car. I said it would be great fun to get in a strange place and she said dad would have to prove that to Sylvester, so you see she stands in AWE of you.
I'm afraid the movements of the car are improving my penmanship so much you'll hardly be able to recognize it.
In a way I'll be glad to get home but only because of about eight letters, at least, I am expecting from a certain Captain.
Last night was a most pleasant evening. It was just cool enough for the fireplace to be lit and we all enjoyed it immensely. After we finished five hundred we all, your dad, mother, Winnie and I sat down and told jokes.
I do wish you could have been there.
Train is now crowded. I love you
Eva.
Dearest
Arrived home tired to death last night as the train was way way late. Was greeted with a wonderful surprise, will tell you about it tomorrow. Have been working like I don't know what all day. Will tell you my secret. I love you best in the whole world
Eva
Dearest
Hold your breath. I'm a schoolmarm. I have taught all day. I have had the first three grades but am only supposed to have the first two. It is at Linwood. Same school and same work as the principal - Mr. Butler deserted at the last minute and another new teacher and I are the only ones there.
I am dreadful tired but am so glad to get teaching. I hardly know how to go about it tho.
I love you
Eva.
Please dearest excuse me for not writing more but I have programs to make out and also to write and let your mother know I arrived home safely.
Mr. Hammell didn't want me to leave and asked if I would consider any money offer and when I said I wanted to teach and would try and get a substitute he said to do as I wanted and he would be perfectly satisfied altho he hated to lose me.
I love you.
Eva.
Dearest,
I meant to mail my letter to you this morning but walked off and forgot it.
I have been working hard today but feel I accomplished more. Miss Schiable came in and helped me out some this morning and she is coming again tomorrow. I really get along very well as far as discipline is concerned but I am afraid I am not teaching them much as I have kindergarten and three grades and my periods are so broken up.
I have a typical Harold in the room and her name is Mary. She might easily be mistaken for his sister both for looks and actions.
One boy told me in confidence that I'd have to whip him lots as he never could be good. He is a poor little fellow one can easily see from his clothes and I rather fear he hasn't had the best chance in the world either at home or in school. He is only in the second grade and nine years old. I'm going to help him lots. He's so thin and tired looking.
I have several who will be perfect angels, I know.
There is one tiny little fellow who is just too bright and his one eye that has a little larger pupil and it gives him a queer little - oh, he's somewhat birdlike. We're good friends already.
'Nuff about school. I really think teaching will be good for me oh lots. It will make me more patient - wiser - and I love it. I wish you could be here. I wouldn't mind having a little curly headed boy who pulled cat's tails sometimes.
The kiddies bring me all sorts of flowers and apples and Sammie -- my poor little boy who can't be good - confided he had gotten his from someone's tree on his way to school.
Goodness if I succeed I ought to know how to manage one family at least.
I love you,
Eva.
Dearest,
I have had a very good day today.
I love to teach.
The principal hasn't come yet but they sent all the extra grades home yesterday.
I love to teach those little kiddies They are so anxious to learn.
I wish you were here. We could have such wonderful times. I'd let you help me. I let the children help me to. I never make them.
Mrs. Ruth Middleton, now Mrs. Stanley Zippler, who taught them before, is going to give me some ideas tomorrow. Miss Schiable and all of them have been doing their best by me.
I have lots of work to do. I am a little tired too.
I love you.
Eva
My Dearest,
Another day has gone by and it was really almost a pleasant one. However I kept a little boy in that I was sorry for. He is rather a quiet, I mean very very quiet, little fellow and afraid to speak altho he has been coming to school for two years. When I asked the kiddies to stand for gymnastics - someone said, "Arthur has some clay in his hand". I had told his class not to touch the clay as it belonged to the kindergartners so I said, "Have you Arthur?" I really should have said "put it on the desk." As I knew he had it and might have known he'd be too frightened to say "yes". He said "no" and about half the class let out exclamations so I had to keep him in. I was so sorry. Poor kiddie, he cried and cried but I think we'll be better friends now.
I love you, dearest, and I'm lonesome lots of times so I'm certainly glad I have this work to do. It's hard but I like it and I know you are glad I am doing it.
Marian Campbell came around tonight so I hunted up Dorcas and we went around to the "Community Sing". It was held in front of the fire house and was quite interesting and well attended.
It is getting late bestus boy so I'll kiss you goodnight.
I love you.
Eva.
Good morning,
I just bet you are working hard now as it is about nine here.
I love you.
Eva
Afternoon,
Bet you're thinking of someone now. It is 2:30 about here.
I love you.
Eva.
Dear Sylvester,
I have stayed in most of the day rather expecting Mrs. Zippler to come up. She didn't come, however, and I can't understand why. We canned eight jars of tomatoes this afternoon and they certainly do look pretty. They were canned in quite a new and easy way which Miss Foreman knew.
I have been preparing a few lessons for Monday, and it certainly takes some ingenuity to keep forty-two kiddies busy that being the number I have now since the extra third grade has gone.
We are having wonderful moonlight nights now. Daido and Miss Foreman just went up the street for a walk.
I really can't think of a thing interesting to say.
I love you.
Eva
Dear Sweetheart,
My! but it would be good to see my girlie just now! Every reminder I have around me of her makes me as lonesome as can be. And, though I trust it hasn't shown in my face, I don't believe I've smiled at anything, funny or not, that I've passed or heard to-day. I guess a grown man and a soldier shouldn't talk like that, should be, but at any rate I've had a special fit of loneliness all day. Forgive me, please, for talking so senselessly; all I wanted to say was I have a humping tooth bolting up through a dull head, and I want you to fix them. I guess I'll have to see if the curl has any medical effect. What do you think?
This is the greatest country for flies I ever did see. They crowd around you wherever you are and there a lot now who don't want me to write you; they'd rather have me use my hands swatting them.
Well, I was to tell you of our trip, wasn't I? Of course I'll have to leave out names of places. It was something over 100 miles each way, so we saw quite a bit of country, on the return journey, at least; going up, as we did, in the dark, we didn't see much going that way. It was interesting country, rather more than this right around here. We passed a number of chateaus either built on top of or up against hillsides. The latter seems to be quite a favorite stunt - this building right into a hill; I should think the rooms on the hill side of the house would be rather dark. One of the chateaus was where Richard the Lion-Hearted was imprisoned for 10 years back in the 1200's somewhere. Along our route, to, there were a number of houses carved out of the rocks on hillsides - the people were, literally, cave-dwellers.
These railroad crossings in France are tedious affairs - gates on rollers, which are kept closed all the time and have to be rolled back every time a vehicle is to pass thru them. I should think that gate tender job would be a tiresome one.
There's something about French country which distinguishes it entirely from our own, I've been trying to name to myself just what it is. Perhaps it's the invariable low cement houses with their red tile roofs; perhaps the tall tapering poplars that are so common; perhaps the regular lanes of trees which are set out along so much of the road. I think in general that it shows the hand of man much more than in America; there isn't so much of the original naturalness our newer country has. It does seem good when once in a while you get to a little stretch which you can imagine is New England. I haven't found anything to parallel New Jersey, except the long straight road I spoke about in another letter. I'll write more to-night.
Evening
Darling Girlie,
Since this afternoon I have gotten a little batch of letters from you, the first in almost two weeks, and there was almost a week's worth which have been skipped since the last batch. That surely is strange that you had not gotten my safe arrival card by the 10th of August, when I had been in Europe ten days by then. Something must have held them up for everyone else in our organization had had the same experience.
I surely was pleased with hearing about Lucinthia's visit. I know just how she would enjoy it, and am looking forward to her letter, too, telling about it. I cannot do anything but forgive you for going to Hemlock Manor since it was she, and I am glad you treated her to it. Your promise was voluntary and I was afraid it was asking too much, but you wanted to promise and I was very happy that you should want to do it for me. So I should feel very badly if you went there under any other circumstances than you did.
Goodnight dear girl, and loads of love.
Sylvester
Dearest,
You were wondering what I did about 8:00 each morning, your 3:15. At the time you were writing, it was when I was first here, and it must have been when I was first waking and therefore thinking of my lady. But I wake somewhat earlier now, I hasten to say. That first week we were inclined to get up quite late.
The rainy season must be on us. We didn't have a bit rain in this place all thru August and up to last Thursday but since then it has rained a half of every day, I believe. The natives tell us we can expect this the rest of the fall and winter. Isn't that a cheerful prospect? We have had two or three of the loudest thunderstorms I ever experienced; and Spalding was arguing on the boat coming over that there was no such thing as a thunderstorm in France! Now it's hardly safe to go out at all without a raincoat, even if it's bright sunshine when you start.
Pop has just come in with a goose which he got out in the country somewhere. He has been anxious for me to make friends with it, but I haven't felt so disposed. So he took it in and threw it on top of Spaldie, and the both of us have been calling him names for further orders. It's lucky we hadn't gone to sleep before he came in. If I had I suppose I'd have nice web foot prints on my face now.
I think I'll say good-night. When I get particularly lonesome for you, I remember that each day is one nearer to you. That's a thought to cheer one up, isn't it?
With my best love and a kiss,
Sylvester
My own dear Girl,
I had a delightful surprise today, your first letter to the American Expeditionary Forces. I wasn't expecting any more mail for 7 or 8 days, the way it's been coming so the surprise was all the better. I was surely glad you finally got the safe arrival card and letter dropped off the boat; and I wish I could just come and tell you how I love you for that little collection of poems you made up for my birthday. I never thought the lavender wisteria on the outside were bunches of grapes, so I'm not going to be in wrong for that. I think I've worked out the puzzle with the musical composition but I'm going to wait untill I see you to prove whether I'm exactly right or not.
To-day has been rainier than ever. Well; I haven't gotten wet, so I guess I have no complaint to make. I would like to see an ending of it, though, for it is somewhat of a hindrance to work in this part of the country.
The Major has just come back, and for once doesn't seem to have a bit of deviltry in him; hasn't even thrown one of my shoes at me - always uses one of mine and not his own. The goose is being gatted up for Sunday dinner.
I'm surely glad your paycheck has gone up again.
Goodnight dear, my very best love,
Sylvester
Dearest,
I had another letter form you to-day. Aren't they coming along finally? This one was a back one, August 1, in which you wrote me interestingly of the Ocean City entertainment.
To-day I paid over 75,000 francs to the companies of our organization. 47,000 of that was in beautiful new 100 franc notes, too pretty to spend. However, I haven't decided to frame any to hang up on the wall yet.
I have a beautiful green bicycle now, belonging to the government, but assigned temporarily to me for my use. The brake on this one is still different from the other; it's worked from the handle-bars just the same, but on pressing the connection up to the handle bar, two scoops press the tire between them and stop the wheel very effectually. I've gotten so that the hand brakes seem quite natural now.
What would you do with a man who put your basin in an out of the way place so that it wouldn't get wet? This morning I stormed around for 20 minutes looking for mine, and finally when our "sticker", the man who shines our shoes and puttees, cleans up around, etc., came in , he showed me where he had put it to get it out of the rain yesterday! I wonder if he thought I was careful not to get it wet when I washed my hands and face in it. These collapsible canvas basins are one of the handiest articles of one's military equipment, and they hold water just as well as a tin one, without taking a tenth of the room in trunk or bag.
I think I must say good-night. I'm afraid I don't write very interesting letters, but I hope you will be patient with me.
I love you, only you, my own sweetheart.
Sylvester
Dearest,
How do you like my new purple ink, or violet to be exact? I seems to be quite a favorite color in French inks.
I had a miniature Connecticut state election here to-day. The Connecticut Secretary of State sent us a bundle of ballots with names of men entitled to vote, and I have been taking care of it, swearing them in and so on. I have voted myself and Moody also is entitled to one. I told him he could have ballot if he would vote the Democratic ticket. He didn't have sense enough even to take it as a joke; for he is one of these sanctimonious Republicans who regard their Republicanism as a religion, and think the suggestion of voting for or being a Democrat the depth of degradation.
It looks as thou the rain had perhaps stopped for the time being, for to-night it has cleared away overhead, and the moon which is at the first quarter without our having seen it since it was new, is shining quite beautifully I wish it might be shining on you and me together.
Good-night, dear girl, and all my love.
Sylvester
Dearest,
This has been a beautifully cool and invigorating autumn day, and I have thoroughly enjoyed living in it. I went at work with a new vigor this morning after our days and days of rain.
I suppose you folks in America have been thrilled to-day with the news of the first large-scale American offensive. I'm uneasy as a fish out of water to be so far back from it, but continue to hope our turn will come.
Pretty soon we are going to get into some tents down near a river. I am quite looking forward to it. It will be much better to be down there all together instead of scattered as we are now. I have never lived under tentage before, and it will be a new experience.
The Frenchmen kick up the greatest row over what seem the smallest things imaginable sometimes. I was in the French post office today buying an international money order (for $1.50, by the way, which I had the hardest time explaining wasn't $150.00), and a citizen who had been given quite a roll of 5 franc notes for change looked them over only to find a little corner torn off. so he must back to the window and began to kick up a great fuss; the clerk wasn't going to take it back at first, and he argued some more and pretty soon the whole force was over there battering all at once. I believe he finally got a whole bill but wouldn't that be a ridiculous thing to argue about in the States?
I am going to say good-night, with my best love. I am thinking of you always.
Your own Sylvester
Dearest,
This afternoon there occurred a great struggle, planned for some ten or twelve days, took place, to wit, a baseball game up the line a few miles between a team composed of officers of our Train and few other and a team from a machine gun regiment. We have had a lot of joshing back and forth, silly flamboyant letters as to our respective greatness, etc., and to-day the test came. We unfortunately lost out by the mild score of 22-4, or something like that, for we stopped counting after a while, but we had a good time anyway.
This evening Fred and John Fox and Deck and I have had a little party by ourselves down at the Officer's club, talked over things in the world, and I got a little chance at the piano down there, which seemed rather good, though I am most decidedly out of practice. I found "Somewhere a Voice is Calling" among the music there so that I could see the glory of that first sunset on the Sunset Trail again. Oh, how long ago that is now. I hope some day we can see it again with all the glory of that first one.
With love and kisses for my Sweetheart.
Sylvester
Dearest,
I wish you were here now, I feel just like crying. Everyone is telling me how sick my daddie looks and I said I would never never go home again mother was so cross last time, but I don't want my daddie to be sick and I want to see him so badly. I just don't know what to do. I feel particularly as if I would like to have you here now. I have just sorta held my breath and waited, hours it seemed to me, yesterday and today. Just hoping you'd wireless me or something. I don't want my daddie to be sick. Everything seems wrong sometimes. Oh, I just guess I'm lonesome.
It is lovely out today with just a nip of Autumn in the air.
Since writing the above I have been down to the meadow with Daido and Miss Foreman. We gathered sea lavender and way way down on the wharf watched the light gold of the moonpath mingle with the coppergold path of the dying sun. It was lovely, sweetheart, and I certainly would have enjoyed having you watch it with me.
We had a delicious lunch tonight. I made some of your mother's quick rye bread, and we had hot chocolate, potato salad and gingerbread. It certainly did taste good.
We just got thru and it's 10:10. Isn't that dreadful? Some night I'll have somebody doing lunch dishes at 10:10 and I won't have to do them myself.
There's a moon tonight and it is looking down on me also you and at the same time. We're not so dreadfully far from each other are we - we have the same moon.
I love you.
Eva
Dearest,
Last night I dreamed you were home again. I love you.
Eva
Dearest,
Another day has flown away. School went by just about as usual today and I came home with the same black white shoes that the kiddies are fond of walking on.
I took them for a little picnic away in the woods this noon - or rather they took me - . We went to a place they called "Grassy Hill" and actually lost our way in the high forest of scrub oaks twice - altho if one stood on tip toe he could see the school house at any time.
I took the sea lavender I got from my meadow walk to school and the kiddies certainly did enjoy it.
We cut and pasted some pictures for our room today and really we are getting quite nice looking.
Do you know, Sweetheart, I dreamed you were back to me last night and I wanted to kiss you so badly I just couldn't. So I just woke up without. Wasn't that dreadful?
The papers seem to be so full of good news - oh I just hope its all good and everything will end right and soon [mouse chewed phrase]
But goodness. I haven't started our scarf of apple blossoms yet. I've really been so very busy about everything.
We're having moonlight nights and just full nights and it's most two years since I first met you.
I love you best. Goodnight and lots of kisses for the one I didn't get.
Eva
Again tonight dearest, I have been reading your letters again from France and want to say if you can arrange with Maurice's grandmere to open the fireplace and make it cozy just for us I'll come. Why I'd come in a minute if I could get there and you wanted me. Wouldn't you really like to have me step in some time and s'prise you.
You also said to your dismay you found the man wasn't boss in France and you ask me if it isn't better to have--[mice again]--not boss. "Oui, if ich can nich--[hungry devils]--boss be"
I hope you have gotten lots of my letters by now and if any them are worrisome just don't listen to them as I have only little worries that pass by long before you get my letters.
I love you.
Eva
A rose from our garden (the garden - at your home). I have one for each. It didn't press nicely as it was almost faded when I pressed it. I love you
Eva
[A pressed rose was included, maybe that is what got the mice nibbling]
Dearest Sylvester,
Today has been one day. First one of the boys looked out of the window and saw a barn on fire - au revoir discipline, then at recess one of my boys threw a stone and cut the head of one of the other boys up stairs. The boy was all bloody and I had to fix him up. I hardly knew what to do as it was a bad cut and I happened to know of his mother and that she was habitually drunk and terribly temporous. She came when he was all cleaned up and she was just about raging - I met her at the door and smiling sweetly said at first I had been rather afraid of John's cut but when I got him all cleaned up found it wasn't so bad. She said it was terrible and he would have to go to the doctor and Edward Haines father would have to pay the bill, etc. etc. and she wanted to know where Edward Haines was and whose room he was in. I said he was in mine and I had talked to him and would try and see that no more stones were thrown and smiled and smiled and smiled her out. I really didn't know what to do with Edward as all the boys had been throwing stones and he had been pretty scared so I just talked to him.
At noon one of my girls was terrible sick and I had just about gotten her fixed and settled when in came Miss Schiable. As I was reciting my tale of woe to her at recess another girl came in with her stocking all bloody where she had cut her ankle. Finally she was fixed and then "thank Heaven" the day ended.
Going home some of the kiddies wanted me to go to their houses and when I said I had to go home and cook dinner one of them said, "Why don't you let your husband do it?" Feminism is it not? Another kiddie looked at Patricia in disdain and said, "Why because she hasn't any, have you miss Lutz?"
So you see, I have had rather an eventful day and I'm slightly sleepy so I'll kiss you goodnight.
I love you
Eva
Lest you get this before get other letters, I am teaching at Linwood. Kindergarten, First grad and Second. No principal as yet but one teacher was there when I came and another arrived today. One is young and she's pleasant. The other is not so young and has been - or is married.
Dearest,
Not much has happened today. The kiddies have been rather good today except once they made me giggle terribly when I asked who the Pilgrims were and one said "Soldiers" another, a little girl said no "they're children without clothes or anything." and to make matters worse the class laughed because they saw me laughing and I managed to choke out that she had gotten up on the wrong side of her seat and she said well that wasn't anything to laugh about. I shouldn't have laughed as I suppose she meant Belgians but it did just strike me funny.
Please excuse my coming back to stamped envelopes again but I have run out of envelopes except these stamped ones and you know September is always a bad month financially for teachers, but thank Heavens!, the end of the month is not so far away.
It's real moonlight tonight and If you were here now I'd talk to you lots. I picked a marguerite from our garden tonight and another flower and a pansy. Pansies are for thots. I think of you always. It's a purple and white pansy, too, but , of course, that wouldn't interest you.
I thot the marguerites were yellow but mine are white and look just like daisies. They are just really blossoming now.
I was weighed and have gained two more pounds. I'll be a terrible fat when you come back. I now weigh 109 1/8.
Sometimes I get tired and blue but always sometime or most always sometime during the day or night I feel I am showered with blessings some here and some to come.
I love you dearest. Goodnight
Eva
In case this letter is earlier than the others, I am teaching kindergarten and first and second grades at Linwood.
You said chocolate was scarce so I'm sending you a cup of "Our Brew" cocoa the brand of December 17, 1916. I love you.
I'm going to try and send a cake of chocolate in a letter and see if it reaches you, too, but I'll send one in my next.
Eva
Dearest,
I have just finished making a few plans for tomorrow. I have quite a little more work to do but thot I would write before I became too tired.
Today wasn't so strenuous altho I had a splinter, a hurt head, and a broken boil. All the kiddies cried tremendously about their hurts at first but they soon got over it.
We had a teachers meeting tonight but it didn't last long.
Daido and I walked up to the post office tonight. It was very moonlight out and I think that effected us as we spent twenty-two cents for bananas and grapes.
What do you think I made, some apple - I mean a apple and a pumpkin pie tonight. I made the apple pie as you mother does - seasoning after it is baked. Miss Foreman said she had eaten worse so I'm sure it was a little bit good. We ate the apples one for dinner but are saving the pumpkin for future reference.
It is getting late sweetheart and Daido and all have gone to sleep so I better get my work done soon or I'll be disturbing the family.
I love you,
Eva.
Dearest,
Six letters from you today and all lovely ones. Oh I'm so lucky and the last was written September 4th. Only two weeks away. They are all missing from August 21st to 28th but I suppose I'll get them tomorrow.
Dorcas is staying with me tonight as Daido has gone to the Senior Reception. Your letters were on the table and she said, "Oh you have Mr. Butler's post office number now don't you?" I said, "No". She said "you certainly have for it is stamped on the outside of all your letters, APO 773". I guess you forgot to tell me as it is on the first letters even. She said you will get the mail much sooner with that on it. I can't write much tonight as she is here but I love you so.
Eva
Dearest,
I think you are terrible, awful mean to say you've been thinking up a little scheme for part of our wedding trip and then not tell me what it is but, of course, I'm not a bit curious.
I am so glad you have things nice to in some way make up.
Daido and I went to Atlantic for about 6 minutes this afternoon.
Katie leaves next week for the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. Isn't that fine? I do so hope she makes something of her drawing.
I love you.
Eva
Dearest Lady,
I rested a long time this morning, it being Sunday. Back here of course we can live reasonably regular lives and ease up a little Saturday afternoon and Sunday.
We had a wonderful roast goose dinner to-day with all the trimmings. We had as our guests the Marquise de la Roche of a nearby village and a Mrs. Gold, an American woman who is a YMCA entertainer. The latter has been eating at our mess during the week, with the local YMCA secretary. The Marquise came with Mrs. Gold, I believe, but had been known to the Major before thru official channels. The Marquise was quite a charming lady, and spoke excellent English. I imagine she is about 45. Her husband runs quite a large estate in a nearby village and she is engaged in refugee relief work.
This afternoon and evening I have been working most of the time, until I stopped off to write Mother a letter, and now you. These days are beautiful and sunshiny, and I guess that rainy season hunt was only a bugaboo. These days are like the ones in which we first knew each other. I was noticing to-night in my diary that last year to-day I had that experience with the huge bunch of bananas, which you immortalized in your series of verses you wrote for me last Christmas.
We heard there was more mail coming in to-night and I have been living for it all day, but in vain for it brought nothing but a few newspapers, and none of them for me.
I love you, precious sweetheart.
Always yours,
Sylvester
Dearest,
Pop and I have been out to see our old friend Major Schoonmaker to-day on some business in connection with that book you remember I worked on with them last winter. Our old Major is getting somewhat stout, and is as smooth and suave as ever.
Jim Greene is having a bad time of it with an abscess at the roots of one of his teeth. It made his whole face swell out in front and he is surely a funny sight. For 72 hours he didn't sleep a wink with the excessive pain it gave him - just like a jumping toothache in every tooth in his head. I guess it hasn't been much fun. A doctor got a lance busy on it this morning and he seemed to be somewhat better this afternoon.
Pop is full of the old Harry to-night and isn't giving anybody any peace, so I've escaped downstairs to write. When he gets started there's no stopping him.
Eva I am thinking very very often of the future and you, for it is so wonderful to think you are to be a part of all my future. I think especially of our honey moon trip, for which I have numberless little pet plans. I was just thinking to-night how I would like to have you save in some special place things you find that you like a great deal and would save to read to me on our greatest of together trips. Will you do that, for me?
Dear Eva, I love you.
Sylvester
Sweetheart,
Today brought the first mail in a week. There was one letter from you, which was an in-between one, written just after the last batch from Devens, ending with Lucinthia's visit, and the first on sent direct here, after you got my safe arrival card etc. You had just gotten in from being out in a thundershower. The mail also brought two letters from Mother, one from Aunt Lucy and Aunt Sarah together, and one from Ralph.
Another rainy season has started in to-night. I guess, with plenty of thunder and lightning to usher it in. The Major and Fred and I went to an entertainment with soldier talent engineered by Mrs. Gold in the YMCA to-night and it was a scream from start to finish, ridiculous dialogue and so on. After that we found that Mrs. Gold had engaged the restaurant where we have our mess to give the soldier entertainers a little feed, and she invited us along. I guess the men enjoyed it first-rate, and then they got off a few more of their stories there, and sang a number of songs, and I enjoyed listening to them first rate. The Marquise, who dined with us Sunday, was also with Mrs. Gold and after that party broke up, invited us - the Major, Fred, and I still - up to the Sous-Prefet's (he's some kind of a government official, which is about all I can tell you with certainty). [See Resume of M. Gillet, the sous-prefet.] He is quite a marvelous man, for he has been confined to his bed for a couple of years and in a plaster cast for a whole year as the result of wounds received in the back in some African campaign. He has a pulley arrangement over his bed to pull himself up with and a telephone right at hand, does a great deal of work right from his bed, and is so wonderfully cheerful, that you begin to like him immensely at once. He didn't know a word of English until the Americans began to come into the town two months ago, but he has a big English-French dictionary which he has been studying diligently and can use quite a little English now. He likes to get a hold of colloquial expressions se have and to-night sprung this: ( I wish I could give it with his funny pronunciation) "Major June, pretty soon I lick my weight in wild cats" It was very amusing. The Marquise spoke interestingly of some of her work with the refugees, that is. The women and children from the front or who have come back from Germany thru Switzerland, in all grades of starvation and misery. She is delightfully simple, sincere, and whole-souled, and is doing very fine work.
Jim Greene is feeling somewhat better is out to-day, but still has a lot of work to be done on his bad tooth. Teeth are things one has to be especially careful of over here. Without great care, trouble is bound to ensue.
It is very late, and I must say goodnight.
Always your own Sweetheart,
Sylvester
Dearest,
This evening it seemed as though I must get out in the air away from anybody, and so I have just come back from a little bicycle ride in the dim moonlight - for it is quite cloudy; and am perfectly happy, except that I am thirsty, and there is nothing to drink, and that I haven't you, which latter makes a long gap between me and perfect happiness. It seems a long tread ahead sometimes to you , and to the time when at last I am never going to wish time away anymore. I used to be told when I was little that it was awful to wish time away, 'cause that was wishing yourself into your grave. But I am not heeding those early teachings at the present time. I surely want to do a creditable job here, but I will be no less sorry to see the job done.
I think the chief reason I wanted to be out this evening was 'cause I had five letters from a little sweetheart of mine, who's known as Sunshine Lady, this morning, and I wanted to think about them and her. And perhaps I wanted to read some of the messages you gave Mr. Moon for me from the porch rail and your room window last month, that you wrote of in your letters. I was happy to have you recall in your Aug. 22 letters my visit to you last year; it makes me very happy to have you keep our days. One of these fine years, 365 in a year will be our days. How will we ever keep all the anniversaries then? But we have some we shall always keep, haven't we, dear? I am so very happy to have them mean a lot to you, too.
You just mentioned in one little paragraph about getting ready go Connecticut. I am surely awfully glad if you did go. I know Mother and Lucinthia would be very happy to have you, and I think the gardens, Us's gardens, must have been a bit lonesome. Aunt Lucy I guess has taken pretty good care of them. She has written me of their progress right along.
I suppose if you're going to invite a lot of visitors to our house - you know, those that were "beautiful and golden and sang so sweetly" - that I can invite a lot to the wedding. Is that fair? I remember you scolded me for inviting Harold Barrows; his cheery features and curly locks should entitle him to be called "beautiful and golden" perhaps, but I'll have to admit that singing sweetly isn't entirely in his line, any more than in mine. I guess I haven't got much of an argument and now it isn't every man who would admit that.
I am eager to see some of the things you are getting ready; and I know I have many delightful s'prises in store for me; everything you do is so bound to make one happy. I think I just can't even introduce you to anybody, 'cause I'm afraid the whole world would be in love with you in a little while, and then where would I come in? I am selfish and want you all for me.
I'm going to say good-night, with a kiss and oceans of love.
Sylvester
Sweetheart,
Do you recognize this paper? It's seen two trips across the ocean, I'll say, as a clue, so you perhaps may guess. At any rate, it means I've had more mail to-day. More mail? I should say so. I'm completely spoiled, letters in the noon mail, letters in the night mail. I couldn't ask for better than that in the States. The letters which came this noon filled the gap between July 26 and Aug. 1, and now there isn't a day for which I haven't a message from my sweetheart. I got the morning glory you sent me with the whispered message, dear, I love you too, sweetheart. So you want me to learn carpentry so I can make you jam closets and all sorts of things, huh? Well, I can drive nails, if that's all that's necessary, but as for artistic carpentry, that bump on my head is missing. But "you can have anything if you want it bad enough" is what we learn in the army, and perhaps some of my experience in trying to live by this motto will help me out. You should see the nice new box desk I have had made, just out of old scrap lumber. (It's especially creditable to the carpenter because I was the architect, and you should have seen the beautiful sketch I made to show him what I wanted). But it came out just as I intended anyway, and I have just installed it in my office today.
I got your letter this afternoon you wrote at Atlantic when you were with Mrs. Davison, also Mrs. Davison's letter, covered up with censor marks. I wish I could thank her for the letter for me, and say that I certainly hope to sometime be where I can run across him. At present he is nowhere near me. Better say too that if my lady gets a letter from her man, I'll be sorry I didn't reply to hers by separate letter too so as to be even.
I'm glad to hear that you had received a letter from me finally from Europe; it seems queer that the second should have come before the first. I wonder if the first could have been thrown out by the censor. I was sure everything in it was OK. It was a big one, of course, for it had all my letters from the ship; perhaps it was so big it sunk the ship it went back on. Eva dear, I am awfully glad you found the fraternity pin so soon again. The only time I ever lost it, I found it again on the next morning too, in the tall grass, at that, where I had been wrestling with Harold Barrows and my brother the afternoon before. I was also glad to read that Miss Tolbert had come back to Bricktop, and I surely do hope that she has decided to stay at Pleasantville this year. I will be happy when I learn that you are still going to be together. She is a friend worth having, indeed.
It is very late, so I must say good-night. I love you, dear little sweetheart. Can't I say "little" just once in a while?
Sylvester
Dearest Eva,
I forgot to speak last evening of the set of luncheon napkins you wrote that Miss Tolbert had brought back for you. I know they must be very nice, and it was lovely of her to bring them for you.
I have been working thru the evening and at odd times talking with, first Greenie, and then Deck. Greenie and I got talking about our civil occupations and I got into some long winded anecdotes and descriptions of my late colleagues Cruse, Carey and Whitney. Deck got on some of his weird experiences of the past; when he's in the crowd, he always hold the floor for his language is picturesque, his experience wide, and his imagination vivid to help it along.
Lucinthia wrote most enthusiastically of her visit with you. It was awfully interesting to read her letter, knowing she was writing about places I knew so well. She was very much taken with it all.
The evenings are getting very chilly, which naturally I like. They tell us also that the winters here are very cold. I don't care. I almost wish I were to have my skates here this winter, but skating without a lady I know seems inappropriate since Dec. 17, 1916; since then she's belonged with it. I hope you and Miss Tolbert have good luck and get some skating thru the winter. S'posing the ocean froze over, would you just as soon take a good long 3000 mile run? I'd order a favoring wind for you, and perhaps I'd have a seven day leave coming to me about then, and meet you half-way, skate backwards after that to pull you the rest of the way.
Eleven o'clock and all's well except - I miss you, dear girl. I suppose you're only just eating supper. That's always difficult for my imagination. (Not the supper, which reminds me, did you ever see the picture of the German civilian eating his daily ration of meat with the aid of a magnifying glass? He could roast fly and think it was stuffed squab. Better try something like that when you're tired of making suppers for such a terrible awful fussy husband as me.)
Good-bye for to-night. I love you {underlined}
Sylvester
Dearest,
This has been my busy day so far, my busiest since I have been in France, I guess. Things have just crowded in one after the other. We have had to send three or four detachments off to various schools, and certain changes are being made in our organization, all of which have been consuming a good deal of the time of the adjutant's office to-day.
However, this evening I have "knocked off" work (I believe that means quitting, and can't think of anything else) I have been up in the officer's club for some little time with the Major and other officers; incidentally, holding private conversation with Moody, which was about the crisis in our personal relations. He is going to another station very shortly, and will not be with us any longer. He took it into his head that there been some underhanded work going on to hurt him; in fact accused me of being the chief offender. I kept most affable, but it's only because I happen to be good-natured this evening. As a matter of fact, in the matter of which he complained, I had taken a great deal of pains to see that he got a square deal, and in more than one occasion have gone out of my way to be decent to him. The conversation have lasted for three quarters of an hour, and it took all my diplomatic powers (which aren't too numerous) to handle him the way the occasion seemed to me to demand.
We went over to our bed-ridden friend, the Sous-Prefet's for a while also. He likes to have the American officers come to see him, and I think is rather especially fond of Major June. The Major has a way about him which wins them all.
The little box you sent me on my birthday has not arrived, and I'm a bit afraid won't come across. But perhaps it will surprise me some time. I surely appreciate it anyway.
Good-night with love and a kiss for my sweetheart,
Sylvester
Dearest,
Marian came around this afternoon so Miss Foreman and I went out for a walk. We walked way out across the old Turnpike almost to Atlantic City. We would have walked all the way but the puddles increased in magnitude as we went along until at last it was impossible for even I could not cross them.
We gathered some rosemary and some alder with its little paint brush fuzzy flowers and really now our house looks quite beautiful.
Miss Schiable was around for a few minutes just awhile ago. She certainly is helping me. Everybody is helping me and I certainly do want to be a good teacher. I'm learning so much and maybe someday I'll be able to make use of lots I am learning.
It's helping me a good bit, too sweetheart, to learn and come in contact with new things and it is helping me to grow up. I really need to grow up - really grow up I mean, and realize what responsibilities are and how to do all sorts of things nicely, easily and gracefully. My education in that line has been sadly neglected, I'm afraid. I'm improving tho, I hope.
Dearest, if you were here now I know I would write you a poem or do something - there's a moon, and a silky silvery sky - a chill as the breath of Autumn, and there are crickets and grasshoppers singing and all that I want is you. You dear heart, my own sweetheart.
I love you.
Eva
I crossed off the box number. I don't know why.
Dearest,
I didn't get any more letters from you today altho I rather thot I would as there were some short. I suppose they will all come along in due time.
I've just been down right lonesome for you all day today. I don't like to really get so as it makes me miserable and I guess everyone who is around me seems to feel the same way for school did not seem to go as well as usual.
I got a letter from your mother today. She said Ralph has gotten his commission as a second Lieutenant. That certainly is fine.
I'm so pleased with the good news that is in the papers. Oh it doesn't just seem possible sometimes that you'll be away from me long now and then other times it just seems as if the Germans never will come to their senses.
I was planning to do so much for us this winter as I thot I would have lots of time - if I had stayed at Hammell's, I would have had - but I hardly have one spare minute to even breathe. I'm disappointed in a way but then I know this is really more beneficial to me mentally.
I wish you were here. I'd kiss you. I'd let you read to me, too and maybe we'd light the fireplace have a lunch and then I'd let you do dishes and I would let you sing to me. Oh I'd be good. I wouldn't even ask you to taste more than one dishful of a delicious tomato, beet, celery salad we had for dinner tonight. I'd sure be good. I really can be nice and good when I want to.
We-el I must get some sleep. I love you too. Yep. ('Scuse me) please!
I do love you and here's a goodnight kiss.
Eva
Dearest,
Nothing really important happened today that is, of course, excepting six letters from you.
Your letters make me so happy. You tell me such wonderfully interesting things and most of all they're something of yours - something from you.
Dearest, it is only eight o'clock but Daido is ill - will you mind if I put her to sleep?
I love you.
Eva
Dearest,
I am horribly miserable I've done so many things I shouldn't. I haven't mailed a letter every day and I've gone to Hemlock Manor without you. I got your letter today - and here I hadn't mailed a letter even yesterday - in which you just sorta scolded me for not writing every day at least you asked me if I mightn't have read only every other line of the letter in which you asked me to write every day. I read every word you say always. I really am miserable I have really been terrible just because I was sorta miserable and allowed myself to be so.
Eva
Dearest, Dorcas just came around. Tomorrow is her birthday and she is going to give a little dinner to some of us girls and then have some sort of a jolly time afterwards. I think I will go. I wish you could, too.
I love you.
Eva
Dearest,
It is raining lovely and hard. I have been around to Dorcas' but as I went before dinner I didn't get wet altho some of those who came later were terribly wet.
We had lots of fun - just talking and music.
For dinner we had Roast beef, candied sweet potatoes, lima beans, beets, jelly and apple pie. Sure was good. Later on we had ice cream and cake so you can see we had plenty to eat.
Today swam along in school and I certainly enjoyed it.
One of the boys brot in a land turtle and we put it on the sand table and I gave them a little language lesson on it. I am having lots of fun teaching them games and they all seem to enjoy it. Even the children in the upper grades.
It is getting late, dearest, so I'll say goodnight and give you three little extra kisses.
I love you.
Eva
I love you still dearest.
Eva
My poor sick dearest Sweetheart,
Oh I do wish I could be with you. I know I sent you some little medicine kisses. I do hope I sent them just in time. I am so sorry you are sick - oh I wish you were here. I do so hope you are better now. I love you and I want you so. Sometimes I want you too oh just so dreadful bad and I seem to think I can make you come right away just be wanting but, you don't come and I wait and wait. I just feel so dreadful when I think you are so far away and I never am sure whether you are sick and really need me or not. Sometimes I just wish I couldn't think. I feel crazy too at times. I feel like working or walking or doing anything just going on and on and on and never never stopping for anything.
Oh I do wish I could come to you , oh just now even if you are well again and I do so hope you are.
I hate war. It doesn't seem possible. We must win and soon and then, no more wars! This one was necessary for that I suppose and if so it is worth that. That is worth most anything - an assurance that our children may know they will never have to give up one they love better than loving.
I want you so.
Eva
Dearest,
I was over to see Dorcas a little while this afternoon and was around to the house for a few minutes tonight to meet her sister-in-law.
Daido has felt terribly sick today but is much better now.
Today has been somewhat of a busy day - I washed two of Daido's sweaters, one of mine and dyed a waist. Don't you think I have had quite a lot to do?
I'm not at all in the mood for writing.
I want to go out for a long long walk I do and I haven't really had a walk since goodness knows when and Marion's coming again tomorrow and Forna is going to Mays Landing. I love you
Eva
Dear Sweetheart,
To-day has been Sunday and I have rested up quite a bit. But I have what looks like a tremendously busy day ahead of me for to-morrow. This week will be the beginning of somewhat busier times for me, as I am going to have some additional duties beginning about Wednesday. The Major and I have been making plans for it to-night.
We've already got some of our men moved down into one tent-field by the river bank, and by tomorrow night they will all be there. In a very few days we shall go down ourselves. I like the idea first rate. We were down there this evening looking things over, and every time I go there I get more enthusiastic over it. Our row of Officers' tents are right against a beautiful row of poplars, and to-night the wind was rustling the poplar leaves in the most delightful soft contentful way. It should be fine to go to sleep by.
I think I'll say good-night again, with an ocean of love for the dearest girl there is.
Always yours, for keeps
Sylvester
Dearest Eva,
I see by my diary that a year ago to-day I was home, the first time I went down home from Devens. We thought we had left the world when we were in the army there, but it seems like back home to us now.
Jim Greene has been around at my billet this evening and we've talked away the entire evening with reminiscences of our early organization days at Devens, and our days under Major Schoonmaker. We of course also raked our friend Moody over the coals a bit as has been our frequent custom for months; a specially favorite topic of conversation between Greene and myself, and Jim has been giving me some interesting dissertations on the law. Jim is a good solid-brained chap, extremely well-balanced. His memory for facts, and especially for the numerous set phrases in Latin used in the law, is quite remarkable; and his knowledge of thins is wide and exact. I always enjoy conversations with him.
Deck has just come back from a little night work chasing trunks. He's complaining of the cold. Poor Deck always has something to complain of, and most every other day shows up with some new ailment. Pop calls him "Sick Report", a large part of his ailments are pretty much imaginary for he has a pessimistic turn of mind, predominately. With all that, we like him, I guess. He's interesting, and original, grotesque at times.
Well, my girlie, I would like a good-night kiss, then I'll have nothing more to say.
Sylvester
Sweetheart,
Oh, it's fine and cool and bracing to-night! Elegant football weather, too, to get on to another tack. I saw some soldiers playing in a field this afternoon, for the first time, which bought back my redoubtable team of two years ago. Perhaps, too, I remembered how I used secretly to like to see one my students come out, and once in a while talk to me real pleasant and friendly-like, and not as though I were the horrible task master I was.
Today I assisted in naturalizing a half dozen or so of our soldiers under the special soldier's naturalization act, by which the process is rendered very simple for men in the service and the ordinary neccessary five years residing in the US is waived aside. It's a chance for a number who don't know much English to become citizens, but our men averaged as well, I guess, as any group of men who could ever appear before a naturalization court in the States. One little Italian, though, got a bit mixed up when the Judge Advocate was swearing him in, and nodded "yes" when the Judge Advocate said "That I do not belong to any secret society opposed to organized government" etc. We finally made him understand what was meant. I believe he got by the statement " that I do not believe in or practice polygamy" successfully.
I said good-bye to Moody to-night, which really should make to-day one thing to be remembered. I believe there's no probability he'll ever be with us again. Cruse in Pleasantville, and Moody in the army - each the only cloud across the otherwise nearly serene horizon; and two of a kind, though the latter did have more substance than the former.
Good-night, dear sweetheart lady, a whole heartful of love.
Sylvester
Dearest Girl,
To-day we speak of the "Crushing Void" a happy expression of Fred's for the late lamented Moody; that is late to us. Pop allows as how it's terribly lonesome. As a matter of fact, he never even said good-bye to him.
If something real interesting doesn't happen pretty soon, I'll have to send you a collection of these sentimental Post cards some of the soldiers think are fine to send to their sweethearts. Wouldn't you be delighted to get a picture of a love-lorn American soldier (it must be in a borrowed Boy Scout uniform) looking dreamy and forlorn like, and the object of his thoughts in the upper right hand corner looking at a picture of the love-lorn soldier? To make it just a bit worse, I could put it in an envelope with the much used SWAK on the seal. I even saw that on the outside of a letter a man wrote to his brother the other day. If that isn't fraternal affections? Really some of these postcards I started to tell about are too ridiculous for words, and some are funny, because they contain expressions which are meant to be English but which we don't use at all.
I should find some ways to come down from the ridiculous at least to the sane before I say good-night but can't really think of a good transition, and I've had a bustling day, so will say no more to-night, except the old old story which I hope you will never get tired of hearing - I love you.
Eva!, Your Sylvester
Dear Girlie,
Do you know what I wish for to-night? It's for some real music with you to listen to it, with me. It's a long time since I've been able to hear such music as I love, and I feel as though I were plumb dry without it so long. The band concerts are enjoyable, and the band plays good music, but a band has its limitations, and nothing it has given is more than temporarily exhilarating. I wish I might hear an orchestra or a violin give some of the things that make the whole soul glow with their richness or marvel at their grandeur. Just something real, and You - really real You. Eva, I would love to see you just now, for I love you, dear.
Your Sylvester
Dearest,
I have moved my office to a new headquarters, and had my first day in it to-day. I have it now temporarily in a tent down in a repair park we have been constructing and equipping; but a little building is being made for us specially for a headquarters and a dispatching office for trucks, where we'll soon be located. Our men are now all in tents near there and we expect to go down into tents very soon. They are all up and ready.
This evening Pop and Fred and I have been around to call on the Sous-Prefet again. He is some what worried at present because a new Prefet has just been put over him, whom he doesn't like; he says "he is small 'up here'" and points to his head. The Sous Prefet had some delicious peaches, also grapes, to which he treated us to-night. Peaches are a great scarcity and luxury in this country, and the one I ate to-night was the first I have had. It surely went to the spot. He had charge, a number of years ago, in the French service, of an expedition into Africa and has a collection of 500 lantern slides of his travels. He was showing us some this evening and they were quite fascinating, of course. One amusing one showed two boys walking in a pool of drinking water, which they were scooping up with their hands to drink.
It's just five minutes short of mid-night. So, good-night, dear
Lots of love,
Sylvester
9/28
A morning kiss for my best girl in all the world. Sylvester
Dearest One.
I have sat at a table to-night decorated with flowers which you might well believe all came from an American garden - heliotrope, snap-dragons, salvia, dahlias, and tuberous begonias.. It was a little party, held at the Sous-Prefet's to which a few American officers were invited including the Major, Fred and myself - the usual trio. Our own cook had contributed a beautiful pin frosted cake to the party, the Marquise de la Roche brought four chocolate frosted spice cakes which were delicious, and then there were some little cracker sandwiches, and some lavender colored candies with something like maraschino cherries inside. The Sous-Prefet himself of course couldn't be down in the dining room and we went up to his room and talked for some time afterward. He's got my name something like Butley, and it sound very funny.
Before this party we were over at the YMCA where Mrs. Gold was running a big soldier talent minstrel show. Some soldier has printed a remarkably good curtain for a background - Uncle Sam with out-stretched arms greeting returning troop ships
Pop's saying "Good-night" which I suppose is a hint to put out the light. So good night, girlie, and all my love for you.
Sylvester
Dearest,
Now I'll try and make up for last nights horrid letter. Forna is in Mays Landing, Daido and Marian are out and here I am with you.
I wish you really would take me out for a long walk tho. I'm just really starving for one.
I made some pumpkin pie this morning and I really hope someday I'll be able to make the kind you like, at least you better say you like them. Of course, I really wouldn't want you to say you did if you didn't.
It is just wonderful out o' doors a nip of Autumn and the far trail cry.
Since writing the above I have been out of doors and I have had quite an adventurous time.
I went down to the meadows and they were glorious with meadow pinks and astors and daisies and goldenrod and at first I had a wonderful time. I am sending you some of the sea pinks. I had been thru these meadows once before and thot I would come home the same way. I saw some particularly beautiful sea pinks and jumped across a stream to get them. To my dismay I found I couldn't jump back as it was a wide stream and I had jumped from a high bank to a low one. I didn't worry much and went on thinking I could reach the other end of the meadow. I soon came to another stream and crossed that easily and thot I was out almost to the road this side of the boulevard. In a few seconds there came another stream and a wider one I couldn't go back so had to jump and landed in the worst brambles I ever felt. I am scratched all over except my face and my right hand just tingles a little bit when I write. To make matters worse I was in sight of home but couldn't seem to reach it and the brambles held me fast every way I'd go and it was getting dark. I tried four different ways and was at last really almost frightened when I came suddenly out of the thicket of brambles and sumach, which was much higher than my head, into an immense hole - oh it was at least ten feet around in a clear place. I hurried back and a frog jumped in the water and I wanted you as I just didn't know how to get back. I thot I would wade but when I put my foot in the water it sank so far I was more frightened than ever and at last in desperation, as I was afraid I was going to cry, I said I was going to attempt to jump back whether or no and I did and I just got across and didn't quite slide in and I just did every other stream the same way and when I was almost back a friendly big old dog came up and just dirtied me all over as if I hadn't had enough and then when I got home Daido said she bets I'll be all poisoned tomorrow as that's an awful meadow for poison and I'm just about worried but any way I had a walk and the meadows were beautiful and even if the streams were hard to cross they doubled the glory of the sea pinks and astors and it would have been a nice afternoon if I hadn't been all scratched and lost and then to make matters worst really almost frightened - for I knew I wouldn't dare move after dark for fear of the streams and my scratches were bleeding and hurt and the mosquitoes were terrible and I was lonesome and wanted you.
I love you,
Eva
Here are just lots of medicine kisses for emergencies. Good morning, not one bit poisoned. I love you.
Eva
Dearest,
I have just come in form Red Cross where I just got thru doing twice as much work as I've ever done almost since I've gone and only stayed about one half as long as I usually do. I just had a streak I guess. Not that I did a really unusual amount tho for anyone except me.
School went rather well today with only two splinters, a few quarrels and one cut to settle. In fact, the day was quite an ordinary one.
I am still alive and as far as I can find out unpoisoned altho my muscles are a little sore and my scratches hurt somewhat whenever I move but I am getting used to them and think - complaining of scratches!
The papers are just full of such wonderful news. I'm sure hopeful.
One of my kiddies daddies is sick and is rather not expected to live. It is the daddie of my little Miss Ideal - whose name is Patricia McManus. She is so sweet looking and dresses so prettily. She is fair too, so I know you would love her for that - she's so dainty and tripping like. Someone came for her at recess and I'm so afraid.
There are a million stars out tonight and all with a message from you. They tell me you love me. Do you?
How is little Maurice tonight? I haven't received any letter from him yet. You didn't use strong arm methods, did you, to prevent him from writing?
Now please deliver this message to Major June without fail at once - you know you must obey a superior officer promptly. Please say if he is jealous of me I am jealouser of him as my sweetheart writes something about "Pop" every other line and besides my sweetheart stays away from me to be with him and I am all left alone - with thirty-seven children to take care of.
Enough nonsense
"Nonsense novel"
Some fudge was on a plate. It was a china plate. It was chocolate. It was soft. It had pink flowers on it.
The Hend.
I love you. I'm serious now. I'm sending you some kisses by wireless. Please see they don't go astray. I love you
Eva.
Dearest Girlie,
I've had two letters from you this evening, the latter being mailed from Rocky Hill. You don't know how happy I am that you went up there, and I hope that you really did enjoy it. And wasn't I happy to get the remembrance from our Us garden , you dear girl?
There was quite a houseful over that week-end, I should say. I haven't seen Jack Savage since the time I went up to New York and enlisted, a year ago last spring. He and I went to the same wedding out in Montclair, which was the chief cause of my going up at exactly that time, and we stayed in a hotel in New York together that night.
Today I have had quite a day, really a very enjoyable and refreshing day. The Major and Fred and I were invited to dinner at the chateau of the Marquise de la Roche, and spent the afternoon hunting partridge on her husband's, the Marquis' estate. There is no over-ornateness about the place and it is altogether attractive. The drive up to the entrance is elliptical-shaped, with a road on either side, and two rows of orange trees in the middle. The house was once a typical chateau, with two large turrets on either side, but the entire front was destroyed in the french revolution. There is still however the moat around it, but for the rest it looks like an ordinary broad fronted mansion. In the hall, as you go in, there are a great many hunting trophies, all labeled with the time the particular animal was shot - the trophies were usually deer-feet, mounted on some fancy carved wood. The most striking thing is a big wild boar which the Marquis shot some years ago. All the rooms in the house have beautiful, finely wrought tapestries covering the walls, and the shelves and mantels are of beautifully carved oak. They have a music room with a grand piano, a harpsichord, a harp, and a cello - allright except that the harpsichord is out of tune, and the strings on the harp and cello are half of them broken. I was most attracted by the library. It is immense - a dozen or more tiers of shelves around all four walls of a good-sized room, and all filled with books; then there were reading tables and a lot of nice comfortable chairs - one leather one which would most do for one of those essentials of ours, if I could only have stuck it in my pocket and walked off with it. There is something always very alluring about a library to me, and I would love to browse around that one to my heart's content.
We were treated to a sumptuous dinner in le six courses, served by a faultlessly-attired butler - in full dress, with white collar, tie, and gloves, and who, by the way, I almost mistook for the Marquis when he came out of the entrance as we arrived, until he took the Major's coat. The first course was a big mixture of chopped up vegetables, with a poached egg for each person; I ate it, but don't ever try it on me please; second was roast beef and potatoes, the only tender beef I've had in France; third was delicious chocolate pudding; then cheese, then fruit (luscious peaches and grapes), then coffee in demi-tasse in the library.
For the afternoon the Marquis' foreman had a hunt all prepared for us. He had collected a lot of the boys of the estate who, armed with sticks, would go half a mile or more away, spread out in line and chase all the partridges they could scare up, our way. We were placed usually about 250 ft. apart along a hedge row. It seemed like it was making it too easy for us, still it's a good safe way at least. Our afternoon's shooting netted four partridges and a rabbit, which we will have to grace our mess to-morrow. It has been a grand day to be out-of-doors - brisk and clean and windy, one of Autumn's best, and I feel very much refreshed for it.
I wish you were here that I might kiss you good-night, but seein's how you isn't, I'll send you one with this mail, with all my love.
Sylvester
Monday morning
Dear Lady,
Nobody could ever call this a Blue Monday. It is the most glorious morning imaginable. How I wish you were with me and we were both free to roam wherever we pleased.
Your Sylvester
Dear Sweetheart,
I am writing you to -night by lantern light down in my tent headquarters; came down after supper to do a bit of work, and thought for a change I would have my daily chat with you here. Perhaps too I've been wondering if my surroundings just now aren't very much like some we shall share together - oh, in the not very distant future, if everything keeps along as encouragingly as at present. I'm always thinking about some of the keeps and Together Days we are going to have, when every day is a together day; I'm living for them. I want you so much, dear sweetheart; I didn't have to know you very long before I knew I wanted you. Wouldn't I have been stupid if I hadn't?
My lantern is a square one which folds up, and holds a candle on the inside; bought way back last winter but used for the first time to-night. Perhaps if I don't lose it ever, we'll use it in a tent of ours some day, and burn just a teenie weenie bit of the Hemlock Manor candle, if you still have it, just for dear old time's sake, for the candle has a memory which lived with me always since that night.
Today has again been very beautiful and clear. The sort of day, if you have to work, you can tear it up to beat the band. It's a pleasure to do most anything on a brisk invigorating Autumn day to me.
We had the partridges, which we shot yesterday, for dinner to-day, and the hare for supper. The partridges were very good except that some of the buckshot was still in the piece I had.
I think I'll go back to the billet and write my daily [unreadable two words], and turn in real early.
Oh, I wish I could give you, real You, a good-night sweetheart kiss. I love you best in the world.
Your Sylvester
Morning [10/1]
Dear Lady,
Wow! My fingers are most frozen so my penmanship will hardly be Spencerian. A nice out-of-door shave on a cold foggy Oct. 1 morning in mine cold frosted water followed by a bicycle ride with your hands cramped carrying a couple of notebooks against the handle with your left hand so that you can turn with the other; all told it makes the little [improvised?] fire down in the tent feel mighty good. Good morning and lots of love.
Sylvester
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