Wednesday Nov 11^th 1839
My dear Sister,
Wednesday has come round again and
nearly departed without my commencing a letter – it
is evening – I am trying to write by candle light but
there is a wonderfully unpleasant sensation produced
by the glimmering of the candle upon the paper.
It is something like the bewildered state of my mind. I
hope you will not think strange if I write the same thing
to you to or three times for I find it impossible to
remember what I have once written, or when I am sensible
of writing the same thing twice to determine whether
it was written to you, Clara, or Augustus. Nothing has
been talked of here during the past week but the result of
the election – I think the excitement actually made
Blatchford sick as he has been ill a few days, you
never saw any one enter into an affair with the
heart and soul more entirely engrossed than he has–
dear little Freddy too was very impatient to know the
result of the election – I believe it is finally settled that
the Whigs have the majority in both houses which is
rather more than they anticipated after the news from
New York — I Thursday evening — I had written so far
last evening when your letter was brought me – since
that time I have been too busy to write a word and this
evening my eyes do not promise much – my Franklin stove did
not heat the room sufficient so to day I had it exchanged

for a close stove – this close stove which has considerable sheet iron
about it has made me so sick that I have been obliged to go
to bed – the fire is all out now and I feel some better –
Freddy went to school for a few days very very comfortably
but he no sooner discovered his ability to learn than the
teacher commenced giving the most outrageously long lessons
you ever beheld – Fred is ambitious and was unwilling
to leave imperfect lessons he neither allowed himself time
to eat or sleep – his mind was so disturbed and over burdened
that his physical strength gave way – I have kept him at
home the last two days – he complains much of his head –
night before last after watching the struggle in his mind the
whole evening with no small degree of anxiety I went to bed
at ten o'clock and left him still pouring over his latin. I
could not persuade him to retire with his lesson unlearned –
in the night Frank Johnson came with his band – music
in the night never fails to make me melancholy – that night
it stuck a more tender chord than usual I had been up
to look at my little boy – his head was thrown back his
mouth partly open, his eyes sunken – cheek flushed every
think about gave evidence of so strong excitement that I
shuddered for the consequence of this close application to his
books – a plaintive air air from the band destroyed the
little philosophy I had left I wept an hour like a child —
Henry found my crying when he came to bed and promised to remonstrate
with the teacher for overtasking our dear boy – since then he has not
been to school but I hope will be able to commence again next
week – We have in our family at present a young German
artist (Mr Frankestien) – he has come from Philadelphia
at the request of some of Henry’s friends to make a bust

will remain here until it is competed – he is young and an enthusiast
but so extremely diffident that we are barely yet acquainted
Fred likes him amazingly and thinks he would like to be a sculptor
I hope you have no objection to Blatchford’s reading your letters that
is when I think proper to show them for he seems much disappoin-
ted when I do not give them to him that I am unwilling to withhold
them – he is a singular mortal – has a wonderful degree of penetration
with his other abilities — I sometimes wish he were not here here he seems
to be always reading ones thoughts so – but then perhaps it would be
better not to have thoughts that one would wish to conceal and I often
feel provoked with myself for dreading the antics of a boy.
Fred says “Ma Mr Frankestein is not at all like Mr Blatchford, is he —”
and yet the little fellow I believe loves them both – I hear from
home frequently by persons from Auburn – John Richardson was
here yesterday morning before breakfast – he was in fine
spirits about the election, on his way to New Burgh or
New York – had some ladies in charge he said but I had
no time to ascertain who they were – We have laughed heartily
over Mrs Wood’s notes from “eminent persons” — Harriet Weed
has been here but once in four weeks – it is not all right at home
– Mrs Weed has been sick or — I have been there but once – Mrs
Horner spends one day of every week with me. James’ wife has
gone to New York – I say nothing about the numerous visitors
I have they do not interest you or me either – Nicholas is getting
along slowly – I think will recover if we can keep him from eating
too much — Peter is very obliging and I have no doubt answers my
purpose better than any one else would — Jenny has disappointed me what
am I to do for a pastry cook! John Top who supplies the place of Nicholas
is an excellent sensible industrious man – I shall be sorry to part with
him. Harriet talks about moving next week but I do not think
she will so soon

Mrs De Witt has a young son – De Witt was here yesterday and seemed much
pleased – he says he is nearly as large as Willie now – I have been there
but once since I came here – they have a very snug house new and clean
they all made many enquiries about you – William Boardman was
here the other day– I enquired why none of them came to see me
he replied they were “expecting an accession to their family –” This
explains why I have not been urged to visit them as much as
formerly– Mrs Corning told me that it was rumored
in Troy that Columbus’ wife had gone off in an improper manner
with some young man– I hear nothing more about it but think
it very probable— When I enquired of William about her he said
he believed she had gone to the South with some persons whose
names I do not recollect. Mrs Willard is in Troy but that is all
I can hear about her at present — I have been no where except to Mrs
Horner’s – none of my bedding is made yet – I am looking for a
seamstress – Ms as you predicted finds no time. Willie keeps
her employed. Miss has made me the most

[right Margin] deplorable looking calico

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calico

Plain white cloth made from cotton, but which receives distinctive names based on quality and use • Printed cotton cloth •

dress you ever saw and spoiled my bombazine

x

bombazine

A twilled fabric of which the warp is silk, and the weft worsted, formerly black for mourning garments, but now made of various colors •

— I am
not present who to imploy next in that line — Henry goes to N. York next week
all send love — Friday morning – your own Sister Frances
Willis Gaylord Clark

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Willis Clark

Birth: 1808-10-05 Death: 1841-06-12

was here Tuesday – he has grown very handsome
is an exceedingly interesting young widower – he is out of health –
Mrs Alvah Worden
Canandaigua
ALBANY
NOV
11
N.Y.

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Stamp

Type: postmark

h

Hand Shiftx

Lazette Worden

Birth: 1803-11-01 Death: 1875-10-03

received Nov 17^th