Cleveland, Jan. 19.
I reached here at daylight yesterday morning, Livy dear, pretty well tired out with railroading1—& they called me at 8 o’clock, this morning. It was a great mistake. They ought to have let me sleep longer. I did not try to get to Sparta, because I found it could not be done. I found a Plymouth Pulpit here da postmarked Dec. 30—a sermon on self-culture & self-denial—& read it through in bed last night. “Man is a tease.” You marked that for me, you little rascal—what do you mean by such conduct as those? But I liked the sermon, notwithstanding it was below Mr. Beecher’s average. You found little in it to mark, but what there was, was Truth, & came home to me.2
I find the family well & happy. But I meet with one disappointment—Mr. Benedict is sick & very low, & so I cannot talk business w with him.3 All yesterday afternoon I played cribbage with Miss Allie4—everybody else was gone up town. I worried her considerably, in a good natured way. Occasionally I would say, absently, “Well I wish I were in Elmira”—& she would retort very sharply,—“Indeed? well why don’t you start?—I’m not keeping you.” And sometimes I would observe, politely, “I wish you were Livy—then I would take more interest in this game—I love to play cribbage with Livy.” We had a very pleasant time of it. She beat four games out of eleven. Charlie Stillwell is in Indiana—she says she writes to him every night, the last thing before she goes to bed; & he writes her every day. It is true—& if you had less to fatigue you, & more leisure, Livy darling, I would beg you to write me every day. Still, [ th ] if you did, I am afraid you wouldn’t write as long a letter as you do now, & so I am not sure I would be better off. I ought to be grateful enough—& am—that you write me every two days.
Although they called me so early this morning, they didn’t and ruined my sleep, for good, they didn’t get me up till 10 o’clock & after—& so Mr. & Mrs. F. were gone up town. Miss Allie set the table for me & kept me company—& I did wish it were your dear little self instead, but I didn’t say it until I had got my second cup of coffee. She says the servant girls are never good-natured about late breakfasts, except for me—& that they say they are glad to hear I am coming, & glad to do anything for me at any time. Isn’t that splendid? Because you know when good-will is shown me by servants, it is a patient, much-suffering sincere good-will, for I am a necessarily a nuisance to them with my rascally irregular ways. But you will break up all my irregularities when we are married, & civilize me, & make ‸of‸ me a model husband & an ornament to society—won’t you, you dear matchless little woman? And you’ll be the dearest, best little wife in all the world, & we shall be happier than ever any condition of single life can experience. Let May the day come soon!—Amen.
I haven’t been shaved for three days—& when Mrs. Fairbanks kissed me this morning, she said I looked like the moss-covered bucket.5 Livy dear, be sure & tell Charlie that his letter came this morning, & it shall all be just as he [says. ] —& I would write him a line & shake him by the hand if I had a moment of time to spare. But I haven’t even the time to write you only these 3 or 4 pages (there goes the dinner-bell) & I’ll hear from Mrs. F. in a minute. Must go up town right after dinner. We are going to write you all a family dinner.6
Good-bye—& take this loving kiss—& this—& this—my darling Livy—& God bless you.
Saml. L. C.
They are hurrying me—Fairbanks called up stairs to know what part of the chicken I wanted—told him to give me the port side, for’rard of the wheel.
Miss Olivia L. Langdon
Present
Politeness of Charlie
[docketed by OLL in pencil:] 29th [and in ink:] mintExplanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L3, 49–51; LLMT, 55–56; MTMF, 67, brief quotations.
Provenance:see Samossoud Collection, p. 586.
Emendations and textual notes:
th • [partly formed]
says. • [deletion implied]