I am not stirring, yet, Livy dear; I hate to wake up, because sleep feels so comfortable and restful; so I shall not wake at all until I’ve finished a dream that I’m dreaming, wherein are persons drowning & I wish to see it—so, good morning my darling, I shall call upon you when I wake [LLMT 343]. ===
Livy darling, I have just parted with the children—they are very sweet. And now I will go to bed & read the Cabbage-Patch & forget the “wars of life” & my work—if I can. Good night, dearest & best—I love you. ===
Good morning, dearheart, & thank you for your dear greeting. I think of you all the time, & it was for you that I was awake till after midnight arranging for this snow-storm & trying to get it at fair & honest rates— which I couldn’t, but if you will take a handful of the snow & examine it you will realize that you have never seen any that could approach this for fineness of quality, & peculiar delicacy of make & finish, and unqualified whiteness, except in the Emperor’s back-yard in Vienna.
I love you most dearly and continuously & constantly, Livy dearest.
I can’t find that Father Gerard. Will look again later.
Dearest, we’ve had a grand dispute as to when Clara was first able to read, either German or English—& of course I was right & of course I was put down by the strong hand. I will not stay here, I am going to heaven. There they will not abuse me, but will praise me & pet me & flatter me, & give me a halo, & I am not going to lend it to the children. Good night, my darling—you shall wear it sometimes. / Y. ===
Schon ist’s wieder Winter! I have discovered our telephone wire—it leads to a tree, from the house. Being
mailed in ice, it is as big as a clothes-line & most undifficult to see. This will be a grand ice-storm if the sun
comes out—the spectacle-scenery is all ready to burst into a jeweled conflagaration. Good morning
sweetheart, the top of the morning to you! / Y.
Livy dear, your daughter Clara is looking powerful sweet & trim & pretty to-night, & I haven’t ever heard
her in finer voice I think. We have all just come up, & I am going to bed. Good-night, my darling, I love you
heaps more than I can tell. / Y.
Good-night, dear heart, here is old Brer Howells coming Saturday night, but John can’t come, the Count
can’t come & the Colonel can’t come. There’s more Can’t Comes than any other guests. I love you, love you
Honey, I’s gwyne take de res’ you tole me to take, en I ain’ gwyne git up in de mawnin’ ontwel I done feel
fust-rate en ker-blunketyblunk. I love you darling old-young sweetheart of my youth & my age, & I kiss you
good-night. / Y. [LLMT 342].
Livy dear, aren’t you going to sell the divan & the big chairs in the study, or shall we take them to Europe? I will find out the name of my friend the Head Manager of the Deutchland line to-morrow, & write him. I do hope I can run down & see Mr. Rogers to-morrow.
I’m full of retiring to Italy—I shall be glad to go. I shall love the quiet & serenity of that country. I must get a note from the Italian Consul—to be helpful at the Genoa custom-house. Good-night, dear sweetheart, sleep well./ Y
Arouse! the Spring is here! There is that subtle & heavenly something in the atmosphere which we recognize as Spring: the buds know it, the grass & the animals know it, all Nature knows it & rejoices. And so shall we,
so do we, my darling.
Dearheart, I’ve done another full day’s work, & finished before 4. I have been reading & dozing since—& would have had a real sleep a few minutes ago but for an incursion to bring me a couple of unimportant letters. I’ve stuck to the bed all day & am getting back my lost ground. Next time I will be strictly careful & make my visit very short—just a kiss & a rush. Thank you for your dear, dear note, you who are my own & only sweetheart. Sleep well!
SLC used mourning border for most letters from Susy’s death on, then from Livy’s death on.