The Flag-Raising | Page 7

me press it out. I like Mr. Cobb very much. He
chews tobacco but throws newspapers straight up to the doors of the
houses. I rode outside with him a little while, but got inside before I got
to Aunt Miranda's house. I did not want to, but thought you would like
it better. Miranda is such a long word that I think I will say Aunt M.
and Aunt J. in my Sunday letters. Aunt J. has given me a dictionary to
look up all the hard words in. It takes a good deal of time and I am glad
people can talk without stoping to spell. It is much eesier to talk than
write and much more fun. The brick house looks just the same as you
have told us. The parler is splendid and gives YOU creeps and chills
when you look in the door. The furnature is ellergant too, and all the
rooms but there are no good sitting-down places exsept in the kitchen.
The same cat is here but they never save the kittens and the cat is too
old to play with. Hannah told me once you ran away to be married to
father and I can see it would be nice. If Aunt M. would run away I
think I should like to live with Aunt J. She does not hate me as bad as
Aunt M. does. Tell Mark he can have my paint box, but I should like
him to keep the red cake in case I come home again. I hope Hannah and
John do mot get tired doing my work.
Your afectionate friend
REBECCA.
P. S. Please give the piece of poetry to John because he likes my poetry
even when it is not very good. This piece is not very good but it is true
but I hope you won't mind what is in it as you ran away.
This house is dark and dull and dreer No light doth shine from far or
near Its like the tomb.
And those of us who live herein Are almost as dead as serrafim Though
not as good.

My guardian angel is asleep At leest he doth not virgil keep Ah! Woe is
me!
Then give me back my lonely farm Where none alive did wish me harm
Dear home of youth!
P.S. again. I made the poetry like a piece in a book but could not get it
right at first. You see "tomb" and "good" do not sound well together but
I wanted to say "tomb" dreadfully and as serrafim are always good I
could n't take that out. I have made it over now. It does not say my
thoughts as well but think it is more right. Give the best one to John as
he keeps them in a box with his bird's eggs. This is the best one.
SUNDAY THOUGHTS
BY
REBECCA ROWENA RANDALL
This house is dark and dull and drear No light doth shine from far or
near Nor ever could.
And those of us who live herein Are most as dead as seraphim Though
not as good.
My guardian angel is asleep At least he doth no vigil keep But far doth
roam.
Then give me back my lonely farm Where none alive did wish me harm,
Dear childhood home!
DEAR MOTHER,--I am thrilling with unhappyness this morning. I got
that out of a book called Cora The Doctor's Wife. Cora's husband's
mother was very cross and unfeeling to her like Aunt M. to me. I wish
Hannah had come instead of me for it was Hannah that Aunt M. wanted
and she is better than I am and does not answer back so quick. Are
there any peaces of my buff calico. Aunt J. wants enough to make a
new waste, button behind, so I wont look so outlandish. The stiles are

quite pretty in Riverboro and those at Meeting quite ellergant, more so
than in Temperance.
This town is stilish, gay and fair, And full of wellthy riches rare, But I
would pillow on my arm The thought of my sweet Brookside Farm.
School is pretty good. The Teacher can answer more questions than the
Temperance one but not so many as I can ask. I am smarter than all the
girls but one but not so smart as two boys. Emma Jane can add and
subtract in her head like a streek of lightning and knows the speling
book right through but has no thoughts of any kind. She is in the Third
Reader but does not like stories in books. I am in the Sixth Reader but
just because I cannot say the seven multiplication Table Miss Dearborn
threttens to put me in the baby primer class with Elijah and