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Roma continues to express her fondness for both Fred and Mr. B. to Fred. She clearly enjoys them both but does seem more committed to Fred, or so it seems in her letters to him. She enjoys Fred’s fondness for her “bright mind” and shows it off with “I deny the allegation but respect and love the alligator.” There is a reference to Aunt Mary’s brown bread which he sent her and she loved. Perhaps this is New England brown bread which is steamed,slightly sweet and has raisins and molasses in it.
Roma’s July 28th letter from Bucyrus seems to mark a change in their relationship. Perhaps they had prolonged sex, causing her to say, “because of our relations, I am going to be so sensitive.” She immediately seems to wonder if he will no longer respect her and lose interest once he has had sex with her, assuming this is what happened. She references a letter to her from Mr. B. which she shared with Fred but which does not appear in the collection.
Fred has sent her $10 for which she thanks him. The exchange of money does not present any drama at this point, and certainly not in comparison to the requests for financial assistance in past letters. Again, she goes into some detail about her equal regard for both Fred and Mr. Bower. There’s something in nearly all his letters that she does not like, but she prefers to keep it a mystery for now. She is interested in work possibilities at Portsmouth schools and would like the security and status but that would mean leaving the adventure of traveling sales and perhaps taking a loss of income, although she seems to think she could supplement her school income with church work. Fred expresses some concern about her taking such a job in Portsmouth but does not elucidate. “Dear Roma, I am not real sure that I want you to teach in Portsmouth. The reasons, of course, are quite obvious.” Not at all obvious to this reader.
[Bucyrus, Ohio, 10:30 PM, July 21, 1915. Return address: 417 East Mansfield.]
Dear Mr. Winter:
The above is just a scare. I don’t see why you can’t stay out of my mind at least “part” of the time. Dear, what if I should get a real case. You know I am at a dangerous age. I once heard a famous lecturer say, that there are three times when one falls in love. The first about fifteen or sixteen called “puppy love.” Well I’ve had that. Then again about twenty, and I “almost” got married, then the last call comes between twenty-five and thirty. Seldom after thirty does one marry for love. If you ever marry will it be for love? Do you get me???
What is the matter with my Mr. B? He has not written me for a long time. I hope I have not offended him. I am afraid he knows about that special, and he would feel hurt over that. Dear, I am not worthy of such heroic friendship as Mr. Bower has given me. I feel I really owe more to him than to you, yet your friendship has meant so much to me, I can’t lose it, neither can I afford to lose [in both cases, “lose” is written over “loose”] Mr. Bower’s. I told him I’d marry him if he would let Mr. Winter come and see us, and let me go up and greet him with a kiss. Dear, that seems such a funny thing to say, but I could do that with the purest, sweetest motive, but he could not see it that way. He could not stand it to see you hold my hand in the coupe. I supposed at first he was joking, and I let you do it, but once I found out it was no joke. You know, I can’t conceive of any man’s really carrying [sic] seriously for me, especially you or Mr. Bower. I am a bundle of love, and you are both naturally affectionate, and it is so pure and sweet, that I can’t see the harm. It just seems so good, and dear, that there just cannot be anything cheap about it. I can’t imagine my being able to hurt anybody, or causing a jealous feeling. I have been so happy, am I going to have to pay for it? I want to see you so much, there are so many things to talk about, but dear, mustn’t I let you love me or love you? I am really depressed, because when I think of all Mr. B has done for me, and that I should turn around and cause him grief. Well dear, I have been fair with you both. You both knew of the other, and all that has been going on. I have written you many more letters than I have Mr. B. and I never sent him a special, but I knew he got his mail on Sunday, and that there would be no advantage. I sent you those specials because I thot you would enjoy getting them on Sunday, I know I do.
You remember a few weeks ago you did not hear from me for about a week? I hoped I never would have to write you with I knew I must, but when I wrote you that letter in Cleveland, if I had been signing my death warrant, it could not have made me feel any more depressed. There was a heavy dead feeling in my heart, and I almost told you there was absolutely nothing you could do or say that would make you the same to me. But you said it, and you are three times nearer and dearer tomorrow.
Dearest, do you want me to meet you in Columbus? and when shall it be Friday or Saturday? Remember, we are a long ways apart, and I hope you will stay as long as possible.
Thanks awfully for the beautiful tribute you paid to my “bright mind,” I deny the allegation but respect and love the alligator.
I can understand and appreciate the beautiful thots you had at your father’s grave for the purest and most sincere thots I have ever entertained I have had at the sacred spot where my dear father lies.
How sweet of you to offer to buy my hosiery. Well dear, since you spoke of it once before I will grant you the “privileges?” I generally wear a nine but I believe they wear better larger so a nine or nine and a half and if you think white would be prettier get white. This is real funny. Just one kiss.
Roma.
[Picture sticker/stamp of a gloved hand coming out of the sea, waving a white handkerchief. “Highland Linen” printed on the bottom and “Good Bye” at the top. White birds in the air.]
Send mail 417 W. Mansfield. Wed. 6 P.M.
[Bucyrus, Ohio, 7 PM, July 27, 1915. Picture postcard: Entrance to Scenic RR. at Night, Euclid Beach, Cleveland (Sixth City).]
This will I know be disappointing, but I have as much to write and tell you I don’t feel I should take the time. That time for a few days must be spent in sleep and study, but please do not think I have forgotten you. I reached home at 9:50 and had quite an experience. It was funny. Found a long letter from B. written at l0:30 Sunday. You should see the hives a regular swarm.
Be sure to tell me what you tell B. about the old rose h__ [cannot read the word]. I want to know whether to thank him.
I hope you arrived home safely and are feeling “bad” I am. Am looking forward to tomorrow’s mail. Peg. [?]
To my dear, sweet Roma;
Yes, my dear, your card was a disappointment, for my appetite was whetted for a fat letter. You no doubt received a letter from me to-day. I’ll admit there wasn’t very much in it, but was certainly strong evidence that I had been thinking about you. I find I am ahead one watch and out one comb. I’ll see that the former reaches you soon. I had a long chat with Mr. B this morning. He had many questions. He received some answers. He asked my question, “Is she as sweet as ever” and I said, just a little sweeter. I am glad to know that you reached “home” all O.K. What was your funny experience? I may also say in this connection that I too arrived home safely and am really feeling “bad.” But, do you wonder? After our blissful holiday, to be separated from you brings pain that is indeed hard to bear. My dearest girl, my fondness for you remains so strong. Your “swarm” of hives hasn’t anything on my mosquito bites. My ankles are a “sight.” I left that sample of your new red dress in the room, please send it in your letter.
Well, my dear, I haven’t much to write, but I am sure if you were here I’d have much to say to you. We had quite a storm this afternoon and since the air is cool and pleasant. What a delightful evening to make a call! It’s awful that so many miles separate us. I am just reminded of the memory gem, “My mind to me a kingdom is, Such blessed joys therein I find, That they surpass all other bliss, That earth or heaven hath yet designed.” Yes, my dear Roma, my mind and memory are rich in thoughts of you. Your sweet and amiable disposition, your charm of manner and your fine and lovable character have drawn me to you like bands of steel. My interest in you and in your friendship has paid me dividends big and rich, and your sweet smile is as a rainbow radiating hope and promise, from a heart full of sunshine and a soul filled with the joy of living.
Aunt Mary has just placed a dish before me filled with luscious peaches and plums—I’ll “lay off” long enough to enjoy them. I wish you were here to enjoy them with me. My, but they were good. I might mention that Aunt Mary served the following menu for supper this evening—fried eggs, fried potatoes, sliced tomatoes, fresh bread, butter, apple sauce, blackberries and delicious coffee.
Let me close my message with a quotation from Irving
Sweet is the memory of distant friends.
Like the mellow rays of the departing sun,
It falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.
With keen anticipation I await your ever welcome letter.
Lovingly, F.B.W.
My dear Roma;
Time will not permit me to answer your long letter received this afternoon. My reply will go forward Sunday. Of course as always, I was glad to hear from you. The enclosure speaks for itself. I hope you will enjoy the loaf of Aunt Mary’s brown bread I sent you to-day.
If you find my comb, please send it. There is a little history connected with it. You no doubt have the watch by this time.
I sincerely hope you are feeling much better by the time this reaches you.
If I get back in time this evening I’ll answer your newsy letter. Just one week ago this evening I arrived in your little city for that happy visit.
Lovingly, F.B.W.
[Bucyrus, Ohio, 9:30 AM, July 28, 1915. 714 East Mansfield.]
My precious darling:
It must be ten or after, but I have just been reading your beautiful letters, and I can’t resist writing you a note of appreciation. Dear, now I see the pure sweet love you said was there. What real genuine love letters they are. It makes me so happy to read them, yet a trifle sad. You know after this visit, because of our relations, I am going to be so sensitive. There is something I want to tell you, have wanted to all day, but I am waiting to see if the same thot, time and tender love will be in the letters I get now. Darling there should be, even more if possible. If I have been so beautiful, so sweet, and so dear to you [inserted], when I was unconscious of it, will I still be that when you know you, and you only, have my purest, sweetest, and all my love?
I am going to enclose the letter I received from Mr. B when I returned from Marion. I don’t think I am betraying confidences, because he figures vitally with us, and there is just one thing I think he would not want you to know, so I have cut that off. I want you to read the letter and return it.
I have been supremely happy all day, and tonight as I looked in the glass and saw how happy that little girl was, I thot I knew of someone who would like to see her too.
It is late dear, and I must close. I did not intend to write today, because I want to read your letter first, but I love you and want to say—Good-night.
[Bucyrus, Ohio, 10:30 PM, August 1, 1915.]
For my Love Man:
Dam It, I’m lonesome. That is the first time I’ve said that today, indeed, since you left.
This is Sunday about twelve. I have just come from the English Lutheran Church. The sermon was not very good, no coherence to it, such a contrast to the one we heard a week ago. By the way, “our man” has gone on his vacation.
Sweetheart, you are so good to me. I received your short letter yesterday also the ten, for which please accept my sincere thanks and appreciation. I hope to be able to return it very soon. I believe when I wrote you that long letter, I was just about as discouraged as one can get. I know it does not do any good, yet sometimes when there is no sunshine how can we see it? I am so anxious to know what your answer will be to that newsy one, as you termed it.
I had received several letters from Mr. B. so that same day I wrote him less than two pages. I was really sick, so gave that for my excuse. Yesterday I received a special from him, saying he was sorry I was not feeling well, but from the tone of my letter he did not think I wrote plainly. He wanted to know if there was any trouble, and if so to wire, and he would come at once, that he had to make a trip for a car in a few days, and did not want to make two unless it were necessary, but if it were, he would gladly come to the little girl. Wasn’t that sweet in him? I did not know he cared that much for me I did not tell him a thing, he just simply assumed that something was wrong from the shortness of the note, and I suppose the tone. You are two real good, true, genuine, friends, you have been proven, now if that pure, sweet friendship, can only, last. e-n-d-u-r-e-. Dear, I could marry Mr. Bower and be happy, but he would have to take me where I could not see you. I haven’t that longing for Mr. B. as I have for you, and my happiness does not reach its zenith in him as in you, but I could love him and made [sic] him a good wife. I have had so many happy times with you dear, but one of the most happy was going to Marion on the car. I was so tired, simply worn out, and to fully relax and lay back on your arm, and to know you were beside me, to talk to me, and to love me gave me such a supreme peace and happiness, one I don’t believe you can know. Then too, after church last Sunday in the parlor of the hotel, weren’t those sacred moments when you held me, and kissed me, and loved me? Then our splendid dinner, then the music. Dear, I don’t know how long our love, friendship and happiness is made to endure, but if it were to end tomorrow, I want you to know, that I have never been with anyone who has given me more supreme pleasure, joy, and happiness, and that your memory, and association with you are the choicest legacy I have, if such things may be spoken of as a legacy.
The brown bread is the best thing I’ve had to eat since I’ve been in Bucyrus. I don’t want anything to eat with it, just enjoy it alone. My it is good. Did you tell Aunt Mary it was for me? Who would ever think of so perfectly grand a think [sic] but you? If you c-o-l- could know how much I have enjoyed it, my cold thanks would indeed seem cold. I appreciate the thoughtfulness implied, but dear, what if you should marry someone who was not as good a cook as Aunt Mary? But then dear, that will be impossible, did you know you were going to marry me? Well you are (maybe) and goodness, in just a short time Aunt Mary will be in the background so far you won’t be able to see her.
However, Aunt Mary is good enough for me, and I should be glad to learn from her.
Is Supt. Apple home now do you know? He has my credentials yet, and by keeping them I don’t know whether he is considering me or out of town. I wrote him the other day but have not heard. My how I should like to teach in Portsmouth, and that is not because there are two perfectly grand men there either. The second day I was there, I interviewed the superintendent, and the fact that those two perfectly grand men were there, was reason why I did not file my application when Mr. Apple told me to. But dear, you would be proud of me if I taught there. My credentials are as good as they can be, Miss Scarf wants me, so nose around and see if there is any chance. I want to be assistant supervisor and have charge of the high school music. The only drawback is salary. Of course I hate to come for less than I got, when was one hundred, but in order to have a job, I would come for almost anything, and am sure I could get a church position. The Christian Church wanted me when I was there. Would you like to have me come? t-h-e-r-e-?
I am just eating my last piece of candy, and how I hate to have it go. When I have something like that around it seems like you. I’m hanging on my bread for dear life, but am conscious that “it too, will pass away.” (“Poetic license”)
You remember dear in my first letter after you went home I said I wanted to tell you something? Well, it was the Xmas dream before it went smash. I have been to the hotel to see about the comb twice. They have promised to try and find it. Do you know where I lost it? I had it before we left the grounds, but I also believe I had it in the hotel. I do hope I didn’t lose. it.
With very much love – Roma.
P.S. There is one thing on all your letters I do not like. I don’t want to tell you, but see if you can’t find it. It has been on every one you have ever written. The first few it was all right, but now I don’t like it, I mean they would mean more if it were something else.
Thanks for the card, I think they are very neat and pretty. I also received the watch, sorry you went to that trouble. Am sending you a sample of my red dress. Why don’t you find some pretty way to have it made?
Oh sweetheart, you told me you would send me a picture but don’t do it until you hear from me again. Answer this, but don’t send the picture. Do you like long ones?
To you Roma, the sweetest girl I know;
Damn it, yes, I’m lonesome too, and for you dearest girl. Sweetheart, I’ve been in a cogitative mood to-day. I cannot get you off my mind and I don’t seem to want you off. Pet, I wrote you Sunday in answer to your newsy letter, however, I was not satisfied with the letter I sent you and I believe I said it would be just an attempt. Dearest, to properly and satisfactorily answer that good letter would require that I be with you and talk to you face to face.
Precious, if Mr. B. has seemed solicitous and anxious about you it is only an imitation of the deep seated concern I have had for you. The longing and pining I have for you actually hurts and I want you to know it. You have become more precious to me than my letters would lead you to believe.
My love, your recital of the many happy times we have had—going to Marion on the car, when you were so worn out, after church last Sunday in the parlor of the hotel then over dinner, then the music that medium that gives the natural world communication with the spiritual, simply fills me with a spirit of elation that words cannot express. And, oh, that Xmas dream—say if I had you hear [sic] I’d make you whisper it over and over again in my ear; it would be as music given as food to a hungry soul. Who can fathom such depths of peace, who can measure such happiness? I would hold you, I would kiss you, yes I would love you—ah, dear heart, they would indeed be sacred moments. It may be that I too may share equally with you in that choicest legacy.
I am so glad you enjoyed the brown bread, I knew you would. I told Aunt Mary what you said about it. I am sure you would make an apt pupil of Aunt Mary’s. We’ll not altogether abandon the idea, at least not yet. I remember some “wiseheimer” said “where there is a will, there is a way.” I expect to see Capt. Donnelley tomorrow.
Prof. Frank Appel, Supt. of Public Schools, is in the city. If I can get a line on the situation (as to the H.S. music) I’ll let you know. Dear Roma, I am not real sure that I want you to teach in Portsmouth. The reasons, of course, are quite obvious. Is it possible that you have some of that candy left at this late day? Please don’t make yourself any further trouble about the comb. Say love, you will be a little dream in that new party gown. I think the material is so beautiful and rich. A suggestion from me as to how it ought to be made up would be a great joke, indeed.
Dear Roma, the first paragraph in your P.S. disturbs and worries me. To quote, “There is one thing on all your letters I do not like xxxx. It has been on every one you have ever written, etc.” You must elucidate and that at once. Why didn’t you speak of it long ago? Please relieve the annoying suspense by an immediate explanation.
I had a talk with Mr. Lemon tonight. He seemed to know a great deal about Miss Hopper’s recent outing. My mother returns tomorrow from Detroit, where she has been visiting since early June.
Dear, the hour is quite late, and I must draw this to a close. I am a trifle nervous tonight, although not so much so as when I wrote you Sunday. My writing plainly shows it. You probably find my letters hard to read.
And now, sweetheart, before subscribing my name let me breathe upon you a prayer, that Heaven keep you well and strong and that peace, happiness and joy supreme be meted out to you in rich abundance.
With love unmeasured. F.B.W.
Miss R.B. Matteson, Bucyrus, Ohio
QBA 