Feb 9, 1911
From: William A Gray
To: Ruth (Barrell) Gray
My own dearest Ruthy:
The train is bumping along between Springfield & Worcester. Will arrive at the latter
place about 8:25. It is now 7:35. Have been thinking much of you since leaving NY. Wish
you were here with me. It is getting harder all the time to be away from you and I hope the
time will come and we must try to so shape it so that we can be together most of the time,
because in that sweet companionship lies the only real happiness I enjoy. Such sweet
sentiment and bum writing makes me sick. Will finish when I arrive in the town of
envelopes and fakirs.
Feb 9, 1911
I have arrived at Worcester and am safely incarcerated in room 319 of the Warren
and I never felt more lonesome, “for you Dearie,” in my life.
You and I have grown so close together, particularly of late that there is no room for
a separation of any kind and the burden of my hope is now, as it was when I tried to tell
you in some pen scratches on the train, that we may so shape our plans or circumstances
on some plan where separation is unnecessary.
The idea of my ever being short or impatient or grouchy with you is preposterous.
The girlie who has made success in my life possible and almost in sight — and from this
night I do not want to even utter a cross or impatient word to you — the light of my life.
You understand me dearie, you know that I love you as well as any man could love
— that I’ve been true to you and always shall be, and you’ll forgive.
Feb 9, 1911
I am enclosing a check thinking you might run short — altho will try my best to be
with you again tomorrow night.
This is a nice large room with bath, and two double beds. It is too bad you are so
tied down that you can’t slip away with me on these occasional absences.
I have been following you in the evening’s work. How interesting it must be to be a
mother of six, so long as one is not overtaxed. Jack and Florence are certainly a great
pair. Their happiest time seems to be at bedtime, when Dr Dentons have replaced the day
togs, and the battle with the saw man has begun. Dearest, that splendid womanhood of
yours, so honest and loyal and brave, which knows no defeat, will enable you to rear a
family that will crown all the effort with a happiness unsurpassed.
I want to write a letter to New York, get both in the mail, and retire early so that a
good night’s rest will make me fit in the morning. Good night dear sweetheart and partner
of my life, dearest, kindest, and sweetest of helpers and chums. Kiss all the youngsters for
me, giving them your own love and with hugs and kisses for your own dear self, believe
me, as ever and always,