From Alice Waters Cairns to her cousin May Waters (February 1, 1887)
by Chris Evans | February 1, 1887 8:23 pm
[Envelope addressed: Miss May Waters, Ashton Villa, Mossley Hill, Liverpool, England.
Postmarked on front: Middle Musquodoboit N.S. My 7 87, Liverpool 4E My 19 87, Paid Liverpool Col Packet 19 My 87, Wavertree Liverpool My 19 87. One 3 and two 1 cent Queen Victoria stamps. Postmarked on back: Halifax Canada My 7 87.]
Upper Musquodoboit, N.S. Feb. 1st 1887
Dear Cousin May,
I’ll write a little now and finish some other time. I am sorry to hear Aunt Barbara is not quite so well. No wonder that poor woman had a dusty house with a baby a week old that she was up & nursing. It must make you very sorry to see poverty like that, without you were able to help her. Thank you for the pretty card you sent. We have had some funny weddings this winter, the last one was a widower of 43 married to a widow of 47, the wedding took place at 2 o’clock at the widows house in the kitchen, everything was clean the two small tables were covered with white clothes, two or three well worn mats on the floor, three or four chairs a bench and a seaman’s (“chest”) were the seating accomadation, the groom was just finishing his toilet before a small glass in the little kitchen when we went in, then he & the bride went into a place partly boarded off so as to walk out in state arm in arm to take their place before the minister but the bride was almost too bashful to come out, so the groom got a little cross and bounced out alone, saying, “You can come or stay, I”m out” he then stood with his back to the partitioned off place, warming his hands over a roaring kitchen cooking stove—he was already too warm—the bride came out in bashful desperation, stood close behind him, &, the ceremony began, by degrees they got side by side, the poor groom was nearly roasted by the hot fire & trying occasion, he had to keep rubbing his face with his handkerchief, after they were married on old lady got out the black tea-pot, emptied out the tea leaves left from the last brewing, and put some more tea in and put it on the stove to boil & boil & boil. Then some girls flew around and got bread from up stairs, some cake from a closet, tough pies from a bedroom, a fruit cake from the aforementioned chest, the old lady mixed up some apple-sauce, they set the table & the bride & groom, minister & wife, and the eldest of the guests sat down to a wedding repast at half-past two. Everything was clean, the bread was light & good, the cake was not nice, and so though we had had our dinner not three hours before we made quite a respectable show of eating, we drank milk & water, as a more wholesome beverage than well stewed tea, we had had a pleasant sleigh drive to the house of ten miles—8 shillings was the fee.
A fortnight ago I went for a sleigh drive of 30 miles on one of the coldest days we have had this winter, I wore a flannel jacket well lined, a dog-skin coat – a very thick shawl; a fur cap and small shawl on my head, an eider down petticoat and flannel garments I cut out in England, over-shoes & had a hot stick of wood at my feet, we got out & fed the horse and got warm halfway there but I was quite stiff with cold when we got to the end of the journey, though we were well wrapped up in a buffalo robe too. We went back next day but it was milder as the wind had gone down. We have had good ice to skate on, but with the thermometer at 12 below zero, and a piercing wind across the meadows where the ice is takes a much greater lover of skating than I am to venture out. As soon as the weather moderates it goes to the other extreme and we have almost summer weather, one fire makes the house too warm, so I think its guider is getting tired.
I wonder if you saw & heard Janet you would think her so wonderfully clever as we do, of course not, but everyone praises her so much to us that it is quite hard for us not to think her more clever than other children, but she really is not any different from any other ordinary bright child, thoroughly childish in thought word & deed, but very affectionate. She tries to be my helper she can almost set the table, and sweeps the floor nicely with small room & dust-pan. She threads her beads over and over, has tea-parties of one—her-self—, dresses & undresses her dolls, plays with her kitten “Minnie.” Bridges, the old cat, has got too lazy for play, but he has beautiful thick fur and is so clean & white we keep him out doors nearly all the time. It is a shame to judge poor Jack by his looks, although he does bark savagely but his bark was worse than anything else.
May 5th Over three months since I began this letter, but as I cannot write an better one I’ll still send it. I have been very busy this winter, a great deal of company and I have a girl who is not very smart, so I have had a great deal to see to myself. I often review my visits to Ashton Villa, the very, very pleasant hours I spent there. I hope Miss Bake is quite well, I suppose as you are young, you find it irksome to stay there so much, but I think I could enjoy it as I am getting so old [she was 32]. Mamma is coming to stay with me for a few weeks at the end of this month; she has been helping Amy to settle to housekeeping in Augusta. Tom has sent Mamma his photograph, and wrote he was to be married this summer, we are likely to have two brothers married this year, this is the third letter I have written to you since I came home, but you wrote as though you never received them. I think I did not address them right, but this time I’ll make no mistake. Janet hurt her third finger this morning, she described it to me as her little finger’s Mamma. I do not try to teach her to read yet, for fear she may take a dislike to learning of any kind. Mamma has given up going to England this year. Rosa sent me a very pretty calendar at Xmas.
I am raising chickens as usual and we have a sweet little pig. This is the maple sugar time of the year. I hope some time you will come over to America and stay a whole year at least to see all our ways.
With much love to Mrs. Bake and yourself,
I remain your affectionate
Cousin Alice W. Cairns.
P.S. I forgot Mr. Cairns, he wishes to be kindly remembered to both Mrs. Bake and his cousin May.
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