The Way I Was Born, You Know

07 Jun


Summit, NJ
Jan 27, 1898

From: William A Gray
To: Ruth Barrell

My Dearest Ruthy:

The cuckoo has just finished with the eighth hour, supper is over, and naturally with
the relaxation of the little while remaining between now and bed time, my thoughts with my
heart, go to your side and what was last night a reality, will tonight be reached in a
visionary way.

Well Love, I hope you are very well and your early drive today had in its wake a
good big appetite. Our parting this morning was rather abrupt and I remembered all day
that I didn’t get one last look into those lovely eyes and a parting clasp of your hand. Of
course I must have had a last look and a last clasp, but what I mean is, I didn’t have either
the minute of parting. Don’t think I’m silly Ruth; its only a peculiarity of mine, the way I was
born, you know.

Keeping house must be very much as you designated by rubbing my nose up hill
with Rich Young. When he reached Summit he found he had the keys to his house with
him, making it compulsory for poor Anna to remain with her Mamma all day. He was going
to get off at Summit and return with them but finally concluded not to. Below Short Hills he
remembered that there was something he had forgotten to bring which was of more
importance than the keys he had forgotten to leave, so left the train at Milburn to beat his
way back to West Summit, which he must have reached somewhere about noon. No
wonder the poor fellow has that very laborious walk that amuses so much.

Some day, I suppose, we’ll be furnishing the same amusement for others that some
“others’ do now, for us. Not forgetting Mr Brotherson. 

I forgot, Ruthy, to ask you if you knew your cousins address at Lakewood. I was
thinking of writing him a few lines expressing my well wishes, etc. I do hope he finds
quickly the health he is seeking and that he will return well and strong.
I can’t say truly that I shall be glad that you will be away over Sunday, altho I ought
to find pleasure in the fact of your going away for a change and a good time. I’m so selfish
Ruthy, and I can’t seem to overcome it.

What have you done with that pink string? People usually use a string or thread tied
to a finger to assist the memory. Tell me what special thing you wanted to remember
during the night, won’t you Ruth? Perhaps it possessed the opposite charm, of making you
forget everything.

O, Ruth, I am silly and am becoming more and more so. Even tho I think serious
things my pen refuses to write them, so hadn’t I better stop?

Ruth, this is a poor excuse for the letter I would like to write you, but some how I
couldn’t get down to those finer thoughts that make a nice letter. I have been too much in
that silly mood exemplified by us when we are winning everything in a game of High Low
Jack and we don’t know the reason.

Not hearing from you, I shall take the 3:50 for Murray Hill Saturday and meet you at
that station, provided the weather will be such as to make it pleasant for you.

And now my Dearest Ruthy, good night. I shall leave you now to retire, taking with
me the sweetest thoughts of the great love which exists between us and the many, many
sunbeams scattered all along the path of our future.

With many kisses and much love, I am, Dearest
Your own


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Posted by on June 7, 2013 in Family History


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