Sarah Seabrook Mitchell Wylie to Louisa Wylie Boisen, 15 November 1890

Seabrook M. Wylie, Bustleton, Pa to Mrs. Louise Boisen, Bloomington, Indiana, Care Prof T. A. Wylie

Bustleton, Penna

Nov 15^th 1890

My Dear Lou,

            I have intended to write you for a long while and now tonight I can’t write all I would like for I must work a little longer. I want to write you a long letter some time, if I can ever answer all my letters. I haven’t much time for letter writing, scarcely none for reading.

            Poor Theo is unfortunate this time. “It never rains but what it pours.” Day before yesterday he was on a sled (with some other boys) building a “pigeon house.” He slipped and fell, breaking his right arm below the elbow. This seems so hard now, but I feel I must not complain when the little fellow must bear the pain. But it adds so much to my cares and it seemed I had all I could get through with. Mrs. Lawton had to help me and she has much care too. It all worries me, much more than it appears to them here. I don’t like all to be known that I feel. This will be another bill. So much constantly to come. Somehow I don’t feel satisfied about the arm. I hope it is set all right. Mr. Strout has perfect faith in the Dr. I will satisfy myself tomorrow when Dr. comes. Theo is dressed and down on Mrs. Lawton’s bed during the day (this is where the mending is all done) and during the night with me. I say dressed, as much as he can be. I can’t get on night shirt or take off anything the broken arm passes through, so it is half dressing. The boys have all been very kind to him. Doesn’t it seem hard!

            I got Mother’s postal tonight. I am so sorry to hear of Mrs. Kirkwood’s death. Was it not sudden and what was the cause? It made me very sad. Death seems so strange to me now. Before Mamma died, I had such a horror of death. Every time I would meet a stranger, my first thought would be “you must die.” After her death, all the dread left me. Her death seemed natural, yet so hard to bear. But it seemed just that she should be at rest. She had suffered so much and had done so much good in life. It seemed finished. But Brown’s—oh, it seems so unnatural! His life was not half spent, his work not half done, and no year given him to brighten the memory of the dark ones, but taken just at the darkest hour. I can’t understand. Why was it! If I could know he was happier but no. Nothing left but to hope. These thoughts make me so restless. I try to drive them away and so often I feel I am only away from Brown as we planned first. I can not realize it. Perhaps it is best that I live so much in the “today.”

            I wrote to Kate Egbert and invited her to call on me. I thought Mother would like to hear direct from some one about me. She made a very kind reply and will come out to see me. She may be out tomorrow. She expects to go West next week. How will the two agree—Aunt Nelly and Kate?

            Lou, I will send out box of things. I hope next week. I wanted to fix a few things for children but doubt if I can do anything. I have delayed all this time to finish Reba’s white flannel and dress for Laurence and I am rushed all the time. There is long pants—if they can be altered do so for Anton. I send pair of Theo’s old ones which Mother will please have used for guide for those two pairs Aunt Lizzie gave me. They are exactly right. I prefer not to have these cut as they do for play here, but they are a good guide. Let Miss Hinds do this. Lou if you think there is much waste for Theo’s use them for Anton. It is all the same. You do for mine. I feel there would be much wasted. Use anything I send for Anton that fits him. Remember they are given to me. He should wear shirts and turn down collars, white for best and cheviot for everyday. This is the way they all do here. Regular shirts. They cost ready made $1.00 to $1.50, flannel much higher.

            Lou, I am going to beg again. Can you send me any bulbs of anything—callas, smilax, anything pretty when you are changing the flowers. I have a lovely window for flowers but not many plants. My prim roses are blooming. One I mean. Some of the geraniums lived and are doing well and Lou, the ivy, little piece I took that Sabbath, is growing. Strange, we got a lovely piece, root, from the church here and I planted it in same box and it died and this little piece lives. I love flowers so much. They are something to fill just a little of the loneliness the separation from my babies causes. Tell mother I am much more contented than when I wrote her. The discontented moments come and I can not help them. I should not write at such times. I have a good home, it must be best I am here.

            Give my love to all who inquire after me, especially Annie Hill and Mattie B. Kiss my dear little babies. Tell them Mamma is always thinking of them. I will write to them. They must be good. Write me soon and tell me just how Mother and Father are and all news. Give my love to Liz, Aunt Lizzie and all three Aunts.

            Affectionately

            Seabrook

Excuse all.

I could not stop so it is long

I send back Ella’s letter. It is a sweet letter. I am so glad to read it.

Now, I can’t go into Uncle The’s for a long while. Perhaps not before they go abroad. I can’t leave Theo.

Theophilus Adam Wylie Family Correspondence, 1806 - 1930, (bulk 1850 - 1930), Collection 2005.003.2849, Wylie House Museum, Indiana University, Bloomington.