August 12,1913.
Dear Helen:
Several days ago I received a post card from you, bearing the post-mark of Dover Plains, and this morning I received a letter from Pine Forest Camp-I did;(a la Peg). This refers to the popular song from 1913 "Peg o' My Heart"
I hardly knew just how to begin to answer the card; and now having read the letter, am even more in the shades of darkness. The doubt or hesitancy arose from a remark that I find innocently flung into the card. And while I am at it, permit me to congratulate you on the honors bestowed upon you in your appointment to so fine a position. It's wonderful what rapid progress women are making in this country, and all without the necessity of burning down London Bridge or starving to death in jails for their liberty. They have lady superintendents of schools, police-women, detectives, show-girls, and now by your appointment, we have added to the list that of Sheriffs. Am I not correct in inferring that you were appointed to the official position of Sheriff of Pine Forest Camp, or Wingdale, or Pawling, I say, can't I infer that from the statement in the post-card aforesaid:
"Dear JoeI also infer from that remark that you probably had several robbers and other famous celebrities of the City on your hands. But why do you take the tramps to town? Is that where the lock up is, or do you do that to give the hobos an airing? I was glad that your letter followed up this conversation, for it said that you and 'Florie' and Julian made this trip, showing that you took assistance along. By the way,is this the well known herr-mahl-zu Szoolyan?
Have just taken a tramp to this to town. Very busy this week, doing something else every day, etc."
Another thing that your letter made me smile at was the statement 'Julian just left last night and he is certainly missed here'. I smiled at this, and then thought of the remark about Shakespeare not repeating himself. I tried to compare that reputation with you, and just as I had almost done so, lo! and behold I thought of the remark you made in the letter sent me that day after I left, when describing the 13th birthday party you attended, and which I have already mentioned, you remarked how you wished I were there and how I was missed. Of course you will forgive my memory, but as Pauline will tell you I can remember some things very well.
And talking of Pauline, while I did not witness the scenes you mention I cannot blame you for "trying to keep as far away as you can from such mushinees," if it is anything like you describe it. I only hate to think of the time when the horizon will show a little more earthly matters to their vision, and when they will have to begin to look such ordinary things in the face as bills, rent, etc. They are walking the beautiful edge of a silvery cloud, with the pale moon shining softly, while the cuckoos call to their mates, and they whisper sweet nothings to each other, dreaming only of the ideals of life. But wait till the daybreak comes, and slowly they step down to earth, and begin to bicker and deal in ordinary things with ordinary people, who have no time and no thought of the Romeo and Juliet stuff; and I fear for the awakening, unless they begin to cut out all that you mention. The maxim is 'a little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men', but as Emerson said,'merely because I like salt with my soup, doesn't prove that I want to be immersed in brine!'
At this time I shall not say a word about the time we arrived home in that auto. It was however Monday morning as you suggested; traveling at midnight, and without any supper at that, because when we struck Danbury, the dining room had closed and only sandwiches could be had. It would require reams of paper to tell the story, and even then perhaps a couple of hours also.
It was laughable to read about the cold wave that struck the Camp. You must have been able to garner in a good crop of ice. It has been just as cold down here, and today I actually put on a winter suit. It reminds me of Simeon Ford* who tells of the discomforts of travel by saying that when on the train, it gets so hot that you ring the bell for the porter to remove the sides, top and walls of the car, and by the time you have removed your Jaegers and climbed into a linen suit with a big palm fan in your left bread-hook, the train runs into a fourteen foot snow bank, the mercury drops to 73.25 below 0, and you rush for the seal-skins. And at night as you peacefully hang your crown on the bed-post and lay aside the dull cares of the day, you are kept in suspense as to whether to pull the blanket (in a Pullman the blanket is about the size of a parcel post stamp) over your head and freeze your toes off, or pull it down over your tootsies, and die of pneumonia. This man Ford has written a most entertaining book called "A FEW REMARKS" being a series of after dinner speeches he delivered at various parts of the country, and they are wonderful. For instance on a talk of the Turkish baths, he begins about as follows, if I recall it rightly:
"Have you ever bathed? Gentle listener, have you ever indulged in that luxury known as a bath? I have, woe is me, but I am now a wiser and cleaner man,"And addressing an assembly of bankers he once told them that he always believed that they had a national anthem that was most appropriate entitled 'if you haven't any money you needn't come around.' And then in an address to some ladies of Boston talking of the then fad of bloomers said:
"Ladies, do anything, smoke, even, but don't don the bloomers. A man hates like blazes to be hitched to a woman's apron strings, but you'll have a riot and a bloody was before you will tie him to your suspenders."Then he added this significant remark, that 'if you do adopt the smoking habit even, while the bloomers will be good things to strike matches on, you will find them mighty hard to strike matches in. ' I wish I had the book here so I could write a few more of his very valuable additions to after dinner literature; but anyway, why take up your time.
And that reminds me. My brother's family-his wife and two kidlets are going abroad to spend the winter. The party will consist of my sister-in-law, Barnet, Lucille (the little baby), Natalie (the girl that came up in the car), and Alma (their ten year old sister),and these are to meet their mother who is now in Carlsbad, and all to spend winter in the old country. I think that it's mighty fine of my brother to let his wife and children go away with such fine people for so long a time. He and the Doctor will be jolly bachelors till their wives return, and I'11 bet they will be sorry when the boat sails, because both are home bodies, so to speak, and enjoy their home life too much to be able to live alone. But they are sacrificing their comfort for their families pleasure, and will be happy in the thought that they are making others happy. But, gosh, I dunno how I'll get along without the kids. They are a part of my day, and it will be hard to let them get away for six months. With other friends abroad just now, and the kids going too, it is hard to resist the temptation to 'jump on a steamboat and just sail away- over the bay-far,far away'-as the song goes.
I saw your father last week and said I might run up in a week or two, dependent on arrangements I can make.
My folks sail on the Imperator on August 30th, so that will have me in New York that Saturday until the boat sails at 10 A.M anyway.
Really now, haven't I taken up enough of your time already? I guess so. Did you ever get the Philistine a friend of Omar promised you?
With kindest regards to all, I am
Sincerely, Joe
* Simeon Ford, American hotel keeper and
after-dinner speaker (1855 - 1933)
The side note on the letter where Joe spilled some ink says " Mary's lamb meets a hungry bear
My pen a tear now drops,
what happened to Mary's little lamb
what happened to Mary's little lamb
What happened to lamb chops?
Here is a copy of the cover of the illustrated booklet for the maiden voyage of the S.S. Imperator that Joe spoke of the family taking to Europe.
In my search about this ship I discovered that there was a fire on board the ship the day before Joe's family was to sail to Europe for 6 months. Here is an article from the New York Times that announces that the ship will sail as scheduled.
In a letter in September 1913 Joe elaborates about his nephew Barnet and his kindergarten experiences. That would indicate that they made the choice not to take such a risky journey with the family.
In a letter in September 1913 Joe elaborates about his nephew Barnet and his kindergarten experiences. That would indicate that they made the choice not to take such a risky journey with the family.
The next letter will be on September 15.
