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Browsing named entities in Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall). You can also browse the collection for David Lee Child or search for David Lee Child in all documents.
Your search returned 13 results in 10 document sections:
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), Introduction. (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To David Lee Child . (search)
To David Lee Child. Phillips Beach [Mass.], Sunday evening, August 8, 1830.
Dearest husband,
Miss Francis was married to David Lee Child, of Boston, October 19, 1828.--Here I am in a snug little old-fashioned parlor, at a round table, in a rocking-chair, writing to you, and the greatest comfort I have is the pen-knife you sharpened for me just before I came away.
As you tell me sometimes, it makes my heart leap to see anything you have touched.
The house here is real old-fashioned, neDavid Lee Child, of Boston, October 19, 1828.--Here I am in a snug little old-fashioned parlor, at a round table, in a rocking-chair, writing to you, and the greatest comfort I have is the pen-knife you sharpened for me just before I came away.
As you tell me sometimes, it makes my heart leap to see anything you have touched.
The house here is real old-fashioned, neat, comfortable, rural, and quiet.
There is a homespun striped carpet upon the floor, two profiles over the mantlepiece, one of them a soldier placed in a frame rather one-sided, with a white shirt ruffle, a white plume, and a white epaulette; a vase of flowers done in water colors, looking sickly and straggling about as if they were only neighbors-in-law, and Ophelia with a quantity of carrotty hair, which is thrown over three or four rheumatic trees, and one foot ankle deep in water, as if
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To the same. (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To David Lee Child . (search)
To David Lee Child. Wayland, October 27, 1856.
I have thought enough about my dear absent mate, but I have found it nearly impossible to get an hour's time to tell him so. In the first place, there was the press waiting for that Kansas story. . . . Then I felt bound to stir up the women here to do something for Kansas; and, in order to set the example, I wrote to Mr. Hovey begging for a piece of cheap calico and of unbleached factory cotton.
He sent them, but said he did it out of courtesy to me; he himself deeming that money and energy had better be expended on the immediate abolition of slavery, and dissolution of the Union if that could not be soon brought about.
I did not think it best to wait for either of these events before I made up the cloth.
Cold weather was coming on, the emigrants would be down with fever and ague, and the roads would soon be in a bad state for baggage wagons.
So I hurried night and day, sitting up here all alone till eleven at night, stitching a
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Mrs. S. B. Shaw . (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To David Lee Child (search)
To David Lee Child Wayland, November 19, 1856.
My dear good David,--Things remain much as when you left. . . . Brother Convers asked me to thank you for your speech.
He said he thought it excellent, and remarked that it contained several important facts that were new to him ....
How melancholy I felt when you went off in the morning darkness.
It seemed as if everything about me was tumbling down ; as if I never were to have a nest and a mate any more.
Good, kind, generous, magnanimous soul!
How I love you. How I long to say over the old prayer again every night.
It almost made me cry to see how carefully you had arranged everything for my comfort before you went,so much kindling stuff split up and the bricks piled up to protect my flowers.
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To David Lee Child . (search)
To David Lee Child. Wayland, January 7, 1857.
When will my dear good David come?
I stayed nine days in Boston, Medford, and Cambridge, and returned here New Year's Day.
I had a variety of experiences, nearly all of them pleasant; but they are better to tell than to write.
I shall have a great budget to open when you come.
I received a letter and a Berkshire paper from you.
Charles Sumner called to see me and brought me his photograph.
We talked together two hours, and I never received such an impression of holiness from mortal man. Not an ungentle word did he utter concerning Brooks or any of the political enemies who have been slandering and insulting him for years.
He only regretted the existence of a vicious institution which inevitably barbarized those who grew up under its influence.
Henry Wilson came into the anti-slavery fair, and I talked with him an hour or so. He told me I could form no idea of the state of things in Washington.
As he passes through the st
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To Miss Lucy Osgood . (search)
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), To David Lee Child . (search)
To David Lee Child. Wayland, June 20, 1858.
I was thankful to receive your kind letter.
You say you lope we had some drops of rain here.
Such a storm as we had I have seldom witnessed.
The day after you went away, there came one of those dreadful hurricanes of wind, smashing my flowers and tearing everything, right and left.
I was in hopes it would go down with the sun, but it did not. Whenever I woke in the night I heard everything rocking and reeling.
In the morning I went to look after the poor little sparrow in the rose-bush, whom I had seen the day before, shutting her eyes hard and sticking tight to her nest, which was tossed about like a ship in a heavy gale.
I wanted much to help her, but could not. Next morning I found the nest nearly wrenched from the bush and two of the eggs on the ground.
They were still warm, so I replaced them, righted the nest and fastened it to the twigs with strings.
To my great surprise she returned to her patient labor of incubation. .
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), Index. (search)