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Woodstock Jan. 1842
My dear Sister
From the time I received your welcome
favor of Decem. 16th; Which is some two or three weeks, I
have daily purposed writing you, but wishing it to be
one of my "old fashioned letters," that is a very long one, I have
deferred it from day to day hoping to get a little more
extensive piece of leisure than I have yet been able to
find. But on feeling a little disappointed in not getting
one from some of you last mail, & being moreover a
little inclined to abuse you for it, I found on slight
self examination, a large beam in my own eye, &
concluded to write you just a common kind of a
new fashioned letter, in the first snatch of leisure I
could get just to let you know how we are, & may hap to
answer some important interrogatories in yours.
It is not that I do so much, or have so much to do
that gives me so little spare time. I have plenty of
hands to do my biding, but I have to lend my head &
attention to almost every pair of them, & then I am
such a perfect novice in the mysteries of house keeping
especially in this region, & withall, as you know, rather
of a "weak sister", that I make a great labour of what a
woman of your capabilities would consider mere
pastime. You may recollect I told you I thought I should
for a time at least, escape the chief burthen of housekeeping
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by having a husband who was somewhat experienced & as
I thought quite gifted in that way. but do you think that
"cruel He" threw the whole of it upon me at once, kitchen
parlour, pantry, larder, servants little and big
men & women, all I must have the management &
direction of. And then pretended he did so merely for
my good. But I suppose I am not the first object of "dis-
interested benevolence" who has been equally oppressed
by kindness. Then too, I have to ride on horseback every
day (all for my good) which takes up two or three hours of time
& the weather has been such for two or three weeks past
that our rides have not been interrupted for scarcely
a day & they have been perfectly delightful. The air as
soft & balmy as summer & the sky almost entirely
cloudless the roads we take are through continuous
groves of pines-flowers (a kind of daisy) are blooming by
the road side, & even in our very paths, for we often take
those not much traveled, mere "hauling paths", as they
are called, & sometimes strike out a path for ourselves.
My "pale faced", tho sagacious guide taking the lead, &
I, jogging after a large Newfoundland dog, who accompanied
us in all our walks as well as rides, capering & frolicking
by our sides. Everything is quite romantic save a piece
of "boggy" ground which we occasionally come to which
makes me raise the surplus drapery of my riding dress
a little, draw up my stirrup foot & sit as lightly on
my horse as possible. Lest I should help to sink him so
deep among the "bogs" as to make him loose, in some
measure, his elasticity of step and motion, not to say lose
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him altogether. [crossed out: The name of] One ride we take is to go out
some road (I don't know the name) & "skirt cabbage swamp home".
Now don't think of a swamp of sea-green cabbages. It takes its impractical [?]
name from the cabbage Palmetto trees on its border
& is really a very pretty ride. I have half expected
to see Cyrus here this winter after what you wrote of his
suffering from colds. Mr. A. upon the strength of it, wanted
to know if it was not best to put up a stove in our little
spare bed room, but I thought we might possibly be able to
keep him from freezing without it, at any rate would wait
untill after he got here. Next winter, if we all live, I shall
certainly expect to see some of you. I think I have a kind of
promise from you and John. However we "know not what a
day may bring forth", much less a year. I can not derive
much pleasure from anticipations reaching so far into [?]
futurity. We have been reading some books that I shortly
like much to have you read, & one I want so much to send
To Mama. "The Table of our Lord" by Miss Fry is one. Do if you
can get it, read it. Mr. Andrews may have it. Please tell
him if you see him that tomorrow I am going to commence
my school for the negros which he recommended.
We all black & white (Mr. O'Neal's family & ours are all of the latter)
assemble on Sunday mornings in our parlor, have
prayers, etc. Mr. A reads a sermon, now, in the afternoon, we
are to have the school, & I think we shall devote an evening
or two in the week to them besides. It is a most hopeless task
if we look merely to human means to enlighten them in
the way of Salvation. I want to tell you a great many
things about them, that is, those in whom I am interested.
Give you a little history of my experience in slaveholding
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but I have neither time or room now. I have yet
to thank you for the "gossip" as you call it, of your letter
and then I may have another of the same kind. I am able to
say you desired that I might be do make the best
of me you can to Julia. Tell her how bad I am even
to her own sister--a left-handed way of making the best
of me, sure enough. Well, taken give her my most
affectionate regards, in beg her to play the amicable kind
forgiving benevolent Julia. And write me a good long
letter to say she is going to do as I desire. But I have
not told you either about "bread and pancake" making.
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And I have got quite a long of interesting experience
on the subject, but at present suffice it to say I have used
the "emptins." It makes first rate bread. I make a
loaf of the ground floor every other day, make it with my
own and proper hands, knead, and mold it, after the most
scientific directions, n'though and I don't know that I toss it up."
I have it put in the oven, and then the first bakes it, Miserable diet,
my husband eats it, and thinks it is the bread of all breads,
and the sweetest and best he has ever eaten. As to, the thimble
affair, you may not flatter yourself with any vision
of gold pencils but only contrary to take the first opportunity
of furnishing yourself with an extra gold thimble.
[written crosswise]
Mr. A begs kind remembrance to
you and his other Binghamton friends.
Give my best love to all to the out
of door ones, Tell Mrs. Harpin [?]
to write to me and any other Misses or Misters
who will be at all likely
to comply. Major Strong might condescend
to write to some of us. Forever yours, Ern.
[written crosswise as address]
Mrs. John Clapp
Binghamton
Broome County
N. Y.