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i) 12
STANDARD LETTER-WRITER.
| miserable until the eleventh hour; then came
f the potent words, and the spell was broken.
“ How ean I thank you sufficiently for your good-
( ness, and in the few words of the tiny note there
i was a rich store? I shall strive, dear ———, to
make myself worthy of it, and I pray to God
that I may succeed. I have little fear now of
succeeding in life, knowing that your love and
sympathy are mine. was always a
. pleasure to me, henceforth it will be doubly so.
stimulated by the thought that my labors will
d to your comfort. You say you can bring me
nothing. In yourself you brmg me all I care for
in the world, happiness.
Of course, I shall not let many weeks pass be-
| fore I return to ; would that I could leave
‘ town now, and tell you how grateful I am, butit
| is impossible. I shall write very otten, how-
ever, and count the days and hours until we
meet, Z : .
With warmest love,
elieve me, dearest ———.
our affectionate
(—————
{ —_—
i voy
| No. 56.
An Ansuer to a Letter written on New Year's
. (Address ———————__)
(Date in full
- My DEAREST ————: :
. I‘was very glad to yet your letter yester-
day, a8 I felt somewhat depressed and out of
spirits. My reflections were somewhatin unison
with your own, with regard to what the past
year Aad not accomplished, and mixed up with
some forebodings for the one now entered upon.
Still, when I look back I have much to be grateful
for in the year now dead and gone. Your affec-
/ tion has not, I know, grown less, though these
foes to love are in the field—separation and un-
: “ certainty; and though parted so far from me, I
. often feel your watchful love and sympathy is
still with and blessing me. Then in the past
year I think I have made a few new friends,
whose names are added to the list my heart
keeps. I often sigh for the old ones, though I
ought to remember it is the wisdom of God to
ful up with new hopes and new interests what
their loss makes vacant. Christmas and New
Year always sadden me; they force one to think
of what would be best forgotten—failures, loss,
- disappointment, death. But these are gloomy
thoughts which I will put aside, and with you
join in the hope that this 1881, that we have
entered upon, will bring with it its smiles for
you and me. ~
i : Will you write on receipt of this, for although
‘ in a great city, I feel sometimes very dull and
lonely? I sometimes have a fearful doubting,
; restless pulse at my heart, which you alone can
soothe. Write, therefore, dearest
And believe always
2
| ‘ In your eftectionate .
: Ms , -————.}
aa
~~ No. 57.
«= Inqutring why a Lady has not Written.
(Address —__—_——-_)
. (Date in fall
My vEAREST ———: :
What is the matter that I have not heard
from you for three weeks ? you last wrote on the
1st, and this is the 20th. You surely cannot
conceive how uneasy your silence makes me, or
you would write oftener. I fancy sometimes you
are ill, or have met with an accident, and at the
bare thought I grow sad and frightened. But
some one would write were that the case. I do
not for a moment think you delay writing to
tease me, but through that feminine weakness—
rocrastination. ‘‘Feminine weakness, in-
eed!” I think I hear you say., Well, dearest,
Iadmit that my own sex is not quite blameless
in that respect. Still, when delays of three
weeks arise in our correspondence, I think I
have every right to say cross things. Suppose I
were to pay you back in your own coin, and
write at long intervals, would you not pout and
* grumble? But, really, I am very anxious, so
‘ much go, that unless you write.at once, I shall
have a fit of despondency. ’
saw @ nice cottage a day or so ago, that
would Just suit us, were you to ‘‘name the
‘ day,” an early one, and allow me to instal you
in it. I won’t describe it until I hear from you,
nor tell you any more of my plans, or, in fact,
write next week more than a few lines. ;
Now write by return of post, if only a line,’
: , And believe me,
~ Ever your affectionate ©
(—_—_
No. 58. °
From a Gentleman to his Cousin to whom he is
Attached.
(Address ———__—,
i (Date in fall)
My pb oo
. I wonder will I hear from you to-day by
this evening’s post, for I am writing this while
the morning is still fresh and beautiful. I have
been expecting a line all the week, and have felt
lonely at its non-appearance. If1 do not hearI
will, at least, be sure you are writing to me, and
will curb my imputience for the moment.
You have my letter by this and the poetry, or
should I not rather say verse? No, because
¥en inspired it as you have so many of my pieces.
ow little I thought twelve months ago, when on
my way home, I would ever write you verses of
that kind. I left you a wee lassie, a sweet pet,
but too young to think of aught else than girlish
rompings, and the lessons you said were so hard,
and when { returned—ah, me! what changes are
wrought in a few years!—you were the same
sweet pet, but instead of the wee lassie I saw a
blushing girl budding into womanhood.
I can scarcely credit the whole thing myself at
times, but it is really positively true I know—
happily for me; happily for you, too, my dear,
you have often told me, and as I am only too
willing to believe; to lay (he flattering unction
to my soul is to me no hard matter, I need not
tell you. It is a very grateful unction, and won-
dertully reviving when anything troubles me.
I wish I could have had you with me last night
walking home. So lovely it was, so balmy after
the rain; but we will have many such walks to-
gether in days to come,’ when there shall be
none to say No.
Now good-bye, darling, and forget me not.
Ever thine, )
( .
No. 59. .
Another from a Gentleman to his Cousin.
(Address)
(Date in full.
My pean :
I am quite alone, the monarch of all I
survey—true, a very limited space, but you and
I would, Iam sure, be quite content in another
such domain were it our own; and somehow, no
matter how large and grand or comfortable other
rooms may be, [ always come back to this chatty
little parlor with a “ there’s no place like home”
feeling quite indescribable.
‘ou may be sure I was made happy when
yours of ‘Paesday was opened, and as I read it
Tasked myself, is it possible that I can be the
object of the affection which trembles in every
line of the letter before me, and seems to beat
in every pulse of the heart that inspired it? and
then I thanked God for it. He gave it to me,
this beautiful gift of love, for which I ever thank
im.
How much I wish for you, darling, I cannot
express, now more than ever since the summer
is coming. You know those sweet lines:
There’s not a garden walk I tread,
There’s not a flower I see, love,
But brings to mind some hope that’s dead
Some joy I’ve had with thee, love.
The two last lines, thank Heaven, do not apply
tous. Ihave had enough of looking back; Iam
looking forward now to the joy your love will
give me, and the hope your love has strength-
ened day by day. .But I feel the first two lines
in every fibre of my heart, particularly in the
evening, that ‘soft hour which wakes the wish
and melts the heart,” and makes you faint with
an indescribable longing for what you have not.
A-feeling something like that with which you
look at what seems the golden gates into para-
dise when the sun is sinking behind the hills.
What isit? That stirring of the soul, that trem-
bling of the heart, that yearning, that painful,
blissful, sad, sweet, tender longing. don’t
know what it is, or where it comes from.
I have been writing you some poetry lately,
but I will keep it to read to you, or showit. It
must strike you often as strange and wild and
out of place, this passion of mine for rushing
into verse with every emotion of my heart. i
can’t help it, for the words seem to rise unbid-
den, and as you know me better now than an
other person in the world, and love me better,
come without hesitation with my offering in my
hand. You will write me soon, darling, and
send me one or two of those violets that you
know I love so well; I wish you could come
ourtelf, come for 2 moment, for there is no
Tight so bright as a glance from the eyes that
I will wait and watch and ever dream:
love me.
of thee,
Ever. thine,
( »)
No. 60.
From a Gentleman to his Sweetheart.
Addres: )
(Date in fuli-_———__—__)
My DEAREST ———:
° Your kind letter of Tuesday arrived this.
morning, as the pleasantest of all additions to
the breakfast-table. You are very good, and
deserve more thanks than I can give you when
such a space lies between us. I hope it will not
be long so, for if you anticipate pleasure in the-
companionship of your husband, I assure you I
sincerely return you the compliment. I expect:
much in your society—much that will dispel
one’s troubles.
I often wonder.if others whom I meet feel «
what [ have felt since you loved me, and drew
my heart to you. I wonder if they are better if’
they feel less; if they are spared much sorrow,
as they lose much ioe. a3 the breath of a.”
great passion ever been breathed: into their
souls? Sometimes I feel such a proud feeling
at my heart, because I know that few men have
been loved as I have been and am loved, and it;
would be like holding a lovely picture to a blind.
man’s eyes to try to make them understand
something of the rapture which only my own.
heart knows. .
Do all men talk to their sweethearts the way I
do to you? It would be profanation to listen to-
what lovers say to each other, but I would like-
to know how others talk, and think, and feel.
‘There is hardly an hour I do not think of you in.
some way or other, If 1 see some dear prim--
roses, I’d like to put them in your hand. If I
see a beautiful sunset, I want you to admire it.
If I meet a fine thought in a book, I want you to
share it. If I am sad or troubled, I want your
tender, loving sympathy. I suppose you have
made ‘yourself necessary to my life, and my
whole being yearns for you; it must be so.
Iam looking forward with fond anxiety to our
next meeting. We shall have much to talk over.
and arrange, as the time when there shall be ne
space between us is drawing nigh. Now, my '
darling, good-night, and ever think as you do
now of him who signs himse
ine own,
¢ ay
_ No. 61.
From a Gentieman to the Principal of a Schoot,
respecting his Son.
. (Address
(Date in full__——__--—-
oe
Dear Sir: ‘
I am loth to think that you have personal-
ly, or through your assistants, been unjust to
my son; yet, according to one of his letters, I
find that his instruction has been neglected in
your establishment, and, moreover, he has, it
appears, been punished, and reported to be in-
dolent, when he deserved neither the one nor
the other. I know John to be truthful and but
little disposed to complain, otherwise I would
not be inclined to place much faith on a boyish
statement, but as itis, I must ask you to inves-
tigate the matter, and deal with the offender or
offenders, in a strictly impartial manner. Ifmy
son has complained without cause you are at
liberty to punish him severely, but if you dis-
cover that he has spoken the truth, and that
your assistants are to blame, then I shall expect
you to take such measures as will prevent a
repetition of such conduct. You will, I am sure,
understand that I address you on the subject ©
with considerable diffidence and, I may add,
sorrow, that the necessity of doing so existed.
ut Iam in hopes that by calling your attention
to the circumstances of the case I am doing what
will best meet your interests, as the principal of
a well-known academy. ere I not anxious to
have justice done on all sides, I would take my
bor away at once and place him elsewhere.
Trusting to hear from you on the subject,
Iam, dear Sir,
Your faithful servant,
To [Name and Address}.
‘
No. 62. :
From a Father to his Son at School respecting a
Complaint.
(Address ———____— }__
- (Date tn full————__—_-}
My pean ———: . ,
I was grieved to hear that you consider
yourself unjustly treated in Mr. = 3 school.
.