Dec 8, 1897
From: William A Gray
To: Ruth Barrell
I have just a few minutes to spend talking to you, Love, for I have some things to do
before going to bed, and that you know must be early to make up for last night.
Well Ruth, how do you do tonight? A little sleepy, aren’t you? I am not very. Would
be glad to be near you tonight to spend a few pleasant hours in your company, but must
make now what preparations necessary to remain with you Saturday for as I told you, I am
going to Queens tomorrow and will not be home again until the next time I see you.
I am wondering if my last letter turned up yet and whether this one will be subject to
the same delay.
It was 9:15 o’clock when I reached the office this A.M., the fog delaying the boat
about fifteen minutes. Luckily for me, owing to the fog also there was a rear end collision
on the L road which delayed my employer and made his appearance at the office very
much later than mine, thereby saving me from the bad impression my tardiness might have
Ruth, that was a fine apple you gave me and I enjoyed it immensely. After dinner, I
cut it up in small pieces and ate it, working at the same time. Munching it in this way, I
made it last for quite awhile.
Tomorrow evening, I will be farther away from you in miles than I have been for
some time, but distance never changes your position in my heart and thoughts and I know
I would be very lonesome indeed when bed time comes if I could not feel you very near me
and have the same thoughts that I know are yours at about the same time.
I don’t know definitely yet about Saturday, but will work the rest of the week with a
view to catching the 3:20 Saturday. So Ruth, if you don’t hear from me to the contrary and
the afternoon is pleasant, for selfish reasons, I’d like to have you meet me at Summit. If
you can’t conveniently do so, and I don’t find you in Summit, I can go to Murray Hill on the
I must leave you now. It is a little easier to do so in a letter than in your company.
Take good care of your Dear self and accept my best love, a kiss and a goodbye
until Saturday. (I do hope this fog will have gone and Jack frost will have ceased to
perspire by then.)
Good night, my own Dearest Ruth.
As ever yours,