November 28, 1916 - Take along a bag containing enough duds until Sunday night; for my collars wont fit you.

Here is a letter from the next day which is fairly long. I guess he had a lot to say to his sweet Helen.

November 28,1916.
My dear;

That letter of yours sounded simply wonderful. What a change one day can make. I was sure that the strange girl I saw on Sunday who looked somewhat like you and dressed the same, though living in your house and parading around under your colors really wasn't you at all, and that she would beat it very soon.

What on earth did you do to her? I hate to tell you what I felt like doing. And what a joke on me, to think that you had caught cold, when, as you now say your eyes were filled with tears and you were ready to explode any minute. What about? What were those trifles that you generally smile at, that looked so tragic Sunday? Better not say anything about it, unless you want to.
I can expect a pretty good laugh tomorrow when I get your letter commenting on my two of yesterday. I believe I'd like to see them again. Maybe I'd say something a little different. But then Charles Wesley said once that he never felt so badly or blue in his life but that it passed off in half an hour, and that was why he was so successful from every standpoint. I guess our friend Elbert Hubbard said the same thing, more epigrammatically.

That engagement that Mr. Kneen made for me for Wednesday night is positive. There is no way out. Business of importance will be transacted, plans for the new officers recently elected to take over the reins of government in a few weeks in a smooth manner, without any delays or interruptions, will be discussed, so as to have everything in readiness, and the new ship launched without any hitches, if possible.

As Borough Counsel, I have been requested to appear at the meeting, to give them the benefit of my services; and I have stated to-day(in response to a letter and a phone call)that I would be there. Isn't it too bad that such things cannot be seen a week ahead, but then, you remember that play that said something about the best laid plans of mice and men.

That gets us down to brass tacks. We are to be in Stam­ford Thursday; and I believe that the best train for you to take would be the 12:03 noon train out of Grand Central for Stamford arriving there at l2:55. I'll see you at the depot in Stamford.

The folks expect to leave here about the same time you leave New York, and will undoubtedly call at the station for you. Be careful that you take the train that makes a stop at Stamford for there is one just a minute or two ahead of it that runs clear through to New Haven without a stop. And the train I mentioned leaves Grand Central but does not stop at 125th Street. Note that.

This typewriter is all out of kilter. The letters fall anywhere they want, and while the others are being used, I take a whack at this, to write at least a legible if not an intelligent letter. You will thus understand that this machine rather than the writer is a little off its trolley.
Of course, you will take along a bag containing enough duds until Sunday night; for my collars wont fit you. And while I am writing the folks can leave on Sunday morning (that includes Florence, Lillian-ha ha how that sounds- and Abe) either 10:03 or 10:50, the former arriving about 11:30 the latter about 12:18. We can talk it over later and write them Friday.

I'll be waiting for you at the Stamford station Thursday morning at 12:55 or whenever that train is due to arrive. I would like to go down to New York to get you; but the morning trains are so far apart that it would mean leaving very early, and having little time other than to get to your house and start back; and remembering that I have a long session on for Wednesday night, you will agree that this does not seen to be practical.

It’s easy to see that when we get to Shelton we wont be very lonesome, according to the dates you are making. In fact I have received several invitations from my friends to the effect that they thought it would be a good stunt for them to spend a week or so maybe during the summer in the country with us; but I don't bite that easy. But with Florence, Lillie, mother, in fact any of the folks,we'11 be sore if they don't come, wont we? Good for them; but remember, tell your father, that he has a. few friends here who are anxious to see him perform. He'll have all the comforts of home, and then some, for we'll let him play pinochle, if he likes till we'll all take our wee deoch and doris. How about it?

I really feel so good since that letter of your arrived, that I can hardly write; I feel so joyful.

Last night reading **White Hyacinths I found a paragraph where the "marster" as Cousin Clara might have called him, said that the thing that made him love Alice so devotedly more than any other thing was the fact that he never could tell what she would do next, or how she would think of the next problem, yet he was invariably certain that the way she would act or think would be a sweet, gracious, and noble one, and would inspire him to do likewise. Their quarrels, he said, were paper mache, and the only remembrance he has of any is the fact that they had none that lasted over
a few minutes, and then concerning a *piffle. To their life, he alluded, no dark clouds ever cast their shadows, the sun was always in the ascendant.

Remember that this is pretty good philosophy to bear in mind.

And we are .going to be able to say just a little more than that, for we'll profit by their example, and cut out even the *piffles. We are here for so short a time, no matter how long it may seem in actual years, and have so much to do for ourselves and others, that it is a pity to waste time thinking of trifles, and pouting over an empty nothing, without a local habitation or a name-as Willie said some four hundred years ago, more or less.

In the olden days the priest raised his hands and the sun stood still in his course. When he lowered them it sank. So he had men hold up his hands when he got tired. That's a good picture. Why can't we figuratively have our hands lifted to better things thereby keeping the brilliant sunshine pour into our lives, as you so beauti­fully described it in your letter today?

I think this a good place to stop. Why? Because Elbert said "the best place to stop talking is just before you tell all you know".

Your mother's finger is well on its way to recovery, and so is your dad's jaw, I hope.
I'm going out to see Barnet and the kiddies tonight for a few minutes, after which I have a Bnai Brith meeting.

With lots of love, from Joe

*piffle means nonsense as idle talk or nonsensical

** White Hyacinths was a book written by Elbert Hubbard in 1907

The next letter is December 1

November 27, 1916 - A strenuous day has already passed since I held you in my arms.

This is a two letter day. If you look at the postmark one was delivered at 3:30 P.M. and the next at 8:00 P.M.

The first letter is a very interesting letter from Joe because it talks about his travels home from New York and also he go off on a tangent about the equality of men and women. As women were starting to show their power he was including it in his letter writing.
The second was a handwritten note because he seems to be missing her very much.

Letter Number 1

Monday noon.
My darling:
That 12:00 o'clock last night was some baby. It was made up in six sections, the first five of which ran through as express for Boston making no stops en route, the last being the one for Bridgeport etc. With trains running under the block system of about ten minutes in between, you can imagine what time we arrived in this City. I landed in mother's house a few minutes before three o'clock, and sick as a dog too.

But I had engagements in Shelton, and so had the Big Ben ring at 6:15, which would allow me twenty minutes to dress, and eat and get out in time for the train. And wonder of wonders I made it.
I have just arrived, and find that Charles and the doctor have gone out to witness the launching of the new submarine, Miss Kelley having resigned Saturday, and Clara gone for lunch. Of course it is about one 9'clcck, and that is natural,
Just see what a little thing like taking one train for another means. Oh yes, it was so late that everybody was asleep, and by the time I rooted up a taxi, I found that he wanted $2.50; but what could be done. I walked to the Stratfield, but they are all sold out ages ago, not a room in sight, especially at the Ball game; so taxiing from your house to the station, then again from the station early this morning, made those extra few minutes talk at the Fox's rather expensible-as 'twere.

Reading the papers this morning about all kinds of subjects, especially about Mrs. Millholland-Boisssvain gave me a peculiar thought. Is woman the inferior sex? Is the male the more important, or are his duties and responsibilities the real ones of this life?
I did what you did after the sermon yesterday-thought. Isn't that strange? I thought of how the world was created, how God began with the single cells, created everything, at least according to Darwin the fish, the lobsters, the turtles, the birds, the donkeys, the elephants, monkey and finally man. And then the Sabbath and He rested. Then having experimented with all things and gained by the experience, if that is possible, He created woman. Not only was man created in His own image, but in addition woman was endowed with some of his attributes. Having created man, and rested, the new week still required a further effort; but when woman was created, He turned the power of creation over to her and gave her the privilege of carrying on His or creative work. And yet we poor men, try to understand woman, and account for her mysterious thoughts and ways, and wonder why we cannot.

Is there anything in that idea that flitted through my mind? I will admit it is a rather weary head to-day that sleep could do much for; but waking or asleep, I suppose we secondary creatures, if that be true, keep on thinking. You know the sketch in the Palace started it, as I told you.

I've taken a lot of time and space before asking how you felt to-day; but I am assuming that you have entirely recovered again. I really felt miserable last night; and perhaps that may account for my not raving over a real good dinner, as you might expect.

But there you were, shivering, and gulping big lumps down your threat, just anxious to have everybody let you alone; and still wanting to be as sociable as possible. That is real fortitude, but don't bank to much on it, dearie.

As is usual, you might have expected it, but this morning Mr. Kneen came into Court and informed me that a special meeting of the present officials of the Borough and City, together with the newly elected ones would be held Wednesday evening of this week, for the purpose of going over matters preparatory to the City taking over the affairs of government, and asked that I make it a point to be present. What can I do? I'll wait till tomorrow and see what progress is made ,and will write so that you may know exactly what to do for Thursday, for I haven't given up hope yet for Wednesday.

I cannot begin to imagine what could have been the matter with you. You seemed to be so far away from yourself, that you actually were no more like the Helen we all know than I am at present like Harry Le Gore of the Yale team. And then how perceptible it was that you were playing a very hard thinking part, for the thoughts could fair­ly be seen rushing through your mind, but not being a mind reader, it was like Greek to me. And then two minutes before I left, you returned, and like the rainbow after the storm, everything looked so beautiful and cheery again, that those two minutes were worth waiting an eternity for; but why the necessity of waiting.

I am going to take a few minutes to get some lunch, and then try to get some girl to take the vacant place, of the stenographer, of course.
With heaps of love, that still remains undaunted and as constant as ever,
I am Your
Joe

Letter Number 2

November 27, 1916
My dear Helen,
A strenuous day has already passed since I held you in my arms. But do you know that if I were to paraphrase a new song it would be "Turn back the Universe, and give me a day before yesterday".

We really have so many useful things to do in our little act upon the stage, it's a pity we sometimes waste part of that fretting over nothing. Just think how lucky we are. We are young, healthy, have everything we need, even if not everything we want, we have vision - as Dr. Wise puts it - and a bright future. Way more, our past is one that we may proudly gaze back upon as an incentive for better and nobler things, considering how fortunate we have been.

This is Thanksgiving wee. Let's be unusually happy in the thought that we are as we are, and if we have tears to shed and sympathy to give, let us use them for those poor stricken souls, who so richly deserve it through no fault of their own.

So why feel blue?
All right now that you are smiling; here's a good chance to laugh. I've felt like jumping on a train this afternoon to rush down to New York to see you,and for want of that, I wanted to keep continuously writing to you all day.

That shows you just where my heart is, dear. I am anxiously waiting for tomorrow, to read how happy you are and that the folks are enjoying good health.
With love and kisses.

Your, Joe

The next letter is November 28.

November 23, 1916 - Oh you gefilte fish.

Here is a fun letter Joe wrote Helen after the engagement party at her parents house. Glad to see that both sides are happy with this special couple.

November 23,1916.

Dearie:
This is really the first time this week that I have had an opportunity of sitting down to write to you as I would desire; yet it is almost six o'clock and Charles will be ready to leave for supper in a few minutes, and naturally will expect me to go along.

I have all your letters in my pocket and will categorically answer them later; but at present will rush on to say that I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. Then I'll tell you all about it. I expect to take a train tomorrow afternoon around two o'clock arriving in New York around four o’clock, and at the end of this letter will scribble in the exact arriving time-after I've had it looked up.
This afternoon it has been pouting cats and dogs, and the evening looks as if it would be awful, in every sense of the word. It makes one feel like working because it is so dreary outside, that you do not care to get out at all. I spent the time drawing several wills for clients, and have already had them signed.

This morning I finished a case that was on trial for several days.
I have so many things that I want to tell you about, it is difficult to know just where to begin.

I will thank the senders of the telegrams to me later in the week, for very apparent reasons. You can tell Cousin Clara that her threat not to speak to us unless I accept her hospitality has had the desired effect, and that I shall not only accept but simply be tickled-shall I say skinny-to be able to live temporarily spasmodically on Riverside Drive-meaning thereby once a week or so. It is so good of her to open her house to me, and certainly shows a very loving disposition for you, because I know that whatever acts of kindness she is extending to me is solely because of her affection for you. If I am also included then I am still more glad.

You know the thing that impressed me more than any one other from your letters since the reception, when your family-so to speak had a chance to give me the once over-is the fact that you say they are pleased with your selection, and approve it. I always gave you credit for being very discriminating, and having refined tastes and am glad that they agree with me. And I am glad-Pollyanna-that the family seems to take to me or rather that we are all so congenial. That this is the case and more so with regards to your hold on my folks goes without my telling you. You have seen eviden­ces of it on more than one occasion already.

Your statement that you are booked for the next five Sundays listens good. That means that the Palace will lose two customers, but also that we are in it for a good time just the same. And whisper-little one-I am certain of five variegated sets of refreshments.

I am going to see you tomorrow. Oh you gefilte fish. Please oh please, when your friends insist that I have another portion, and like the hero of old, the more I plead to do so, the tighter you lash me to the figurative mast of declining. I commend my appetite to your keeping. May your conscience be your guide. With lots of love, and regards to the folks – I’m slipping,

I am Your Joe

I leave at 2:50 arriving at 4:21 P.M.

The next letter is November 27

November 17, 1916 - Your voice has a warm penetrating radiance

This letter is from 2 days before the engagement party to be held at Helen's parents home in New York City.

Friday afternoon
My darling,
I have just returned from Court, and recall that I promised to write just when I anticipated going to New York.
Doctor and Nat go down in the machine early tomorrow morning (6:30) and with Gus and several others will go on to Princeton to the game. I could not accept their invitation to go, for many reasons. In the first place, Sunday, you know is of some importance, and we ought not be off getting all tired out and frozen form a long trip and exposure at the game. Then it breaks up the whole day Saturday and I expect to take next Friday afternoon and Saturday off for the Harvard game.
Now dearie, I'll be righ5t here till 4:10, then I'll leave for New York and arrive at 5:36. I don't want you to inconvenience yourself a particle for me , now, but if you're near Grand Central, your presence will make me happy. "That's all!"
I don't suppose you want to go to the theatre do you? Oh , no, heaven forbid. Still if you do, with Sunday impending, you had better make up your mind on the particular play, so that we can try for pasteboards early. We'll try for better seats than we had at "The Moosic Marster", and Getting Married.
You talked yesterday as if you were all tired out, or discusted. Generally your voice has a warm penetrating radiance, but yesterday - ooh - it was so Antarctic.
Senator-elect Charles Williamson told me today that he thought he would call on us Sunday. So did Mayor-elect Mr. Kneen.
With a new consignment of love, I am
Your,
Joe

The next letter is November 23

November 15, 1916 - This is number five so far; and not a word yet from you.

Here we have a writer frustrated by Helen not beting as into writing as he. I believe they will work this out.

Wednesday afternoon
My dear Helen,

I was rather surprised to see the enclosed in the society column of tonight's Post; because they had mentioned it a couple of days ago. I don't know how they came to put it in in this form, but you must be very popular here to get repeated notices - and free too.

However your popularity is on the toboggan which is well greased, and  it will begin to slip fast if you don't write. This is number five so far; and not a word yet from you. What's up, huh?

If I don't hear from you tomorrow,I'll send you some paper, envelopes and stamps, and a few strong suggestion, and if that doesn't work, I'll go to New York my self; but, you'd better write.

Lovingly,
Joe

The next letter is November 17

November 9, 1916 - Reception Announced

Here is the engagement reception announcement from the Sentinel newspaper. I can not find a listing for the paper but you can see the writing on the bottom of the article.

 Reception Announced

Announcement of a reception to be given by Miss Helen Rosenstein, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J. H. Rosenstein, of 534 West 111th street, New York, and Joseph G. Shapiro, of Shelton, whose engagement was recently announced, has been made. The reception will take place at the bride's home on Sunday, November 19, from 3 to 6 o'clock.
Sentinel Nov. 9, 1916

The next letter is November 15.