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Fred continues to worry about his employment and financial situation in very indirect language. This may be what prevents him from proposing marriage. Roma had a job interview with the superintendent of Fostoria schools, although she says it’s “to look me over” rather than a formal interview. She seems to have passed handily and would earn $90 per month. She is especially thrilled that Mr. and Mrs. Todd will be gone overnight from the house where Roma boards with them, and she is beside herself with excitement that Fred will visit and they will be alone together.
August ?, 1915
My dearest Roma,
I have started two letters to you since Sunday but was unable to finish either one. So here goes for the third time and I’m determined to finish this one if it takes all summer. Pet, there is so much I want to say that I scarcely know where to begin. I wish I could lay aside my pen and call you up on the phone for an hour or two or what would suit me still better—just slip around, unannounced, to 97 N. Jefferson and visit with my little dewdrop.
Your nice fat letter received Saturday, with its tender salutation, made me happy. It was one of the very best letters you have sent me. I am wondering if that re-constructed green dress will be as “good looking” as it was when I first saw it.
Dear Roma, how does it happen you are meeting with so many accidents?—burned fingers and arms. Did you use the remedy I sent in Sunday’s letter? I surely think it was a happy combination when you and Mrs. Todd met. I feel flattered at the favorable comment you say she made concerning me. I am sure I made not even an attempt at posing. Now, dearest, I was much amused at your display of spunk in your “dissertation” on “work” and “land”, the latter word having been used by Mrs. Todd. My dear girl, don’t you think I have been quite industrious in my efforts trying to arrange affairs, so that I might “land” you. I told you all about it at Bucyrus. That five years’ engagement sounds “awfully” long—an age. Did you think it took much “insistence” to get me to stay Monday night? Why, dear, I wanted to stay—I wish I was there now. Tired of you—why, that’s impossible. Yes, sweetheart, as you say, to have left in the early evening would have been a ‘sin and a shame’. But love, to “sink in mid-ocean”—the place you would consign me or any other man, under certain conditions and circumstances, I think would be quite cruel. Do I need to reiterate how much I care for you? The trust and confidence you have in me is abundantly reciprocated and with it was a hope that found such beautiful expression in that Xmas dream.
Dear Roma, when you use that word “procrastinate” I am immediately drawn before the judgment bar of my own conscience: I find I am quite prone to “put off” and I may say that this inherited tendency has been aggravated by an unusual environment in which I have been placed in recent years. I am fighting it all the time.
My dearest girl, you have touched on things in your letter that are confidential, important, tender and vital. O, what wouldn’t I give if I were in position, or rather to be in position to answer those questions with clearness and definiteness and to clear away the doubts and uncertainties that befog the future. In my talks to you, I have told you the condition of my business affairs. Plans that I had hoped might be made workable are still alive, but that is about all I can say for them. Prospects for carrying them out are not very good. Believe me, I have had worries enough over them. That Yuletide dream is the sweetest “theme” that has ever come into my life and I have feasted upon it by the hour. Present chaotic conditions won’t allow me to say anything real definite. I have an intuition
[page IV missing]
… have not read it. I know we would enjoy reading that together. I note your comment on churchgoing—yes, dear, I attended the morning service, taking my niece along who also went with me to the band concert at Millbrook park. I am very fond of this niece, Helen; she is a very clever girl. I wanted her to meet you. She went home to-day, stopping at Ottawa, until Saturday.
I am glad you enjoyed the flowers. I did not see them as I phoned the order in. I see by the rose leaves you enclosed that they were of the Lady Hillington variety—one of the newer kind. I wanted you to have them for Sunday. I sent them to Mrs. T. as a souvenir and appreciation of my visit and entertainment. Do I need to explain why I sent them to you? Sweetheart, they were sent as a token of my love and esteem.
I am so glad you have extended me the privilege of writing you every day, notwithstanding the fact you will be awfully busy sewing this week—well, I have already made good on that score, thus far. Keep a record and grade me
[remainder of letter missing—this ends on page V]
[postmarked August 22, 1915, mailed to Columbus]
My dearest Roma;
I am more than glad that the exasperating silence has been broken. Your letter of yesterday came as a refreshing shower to parched meadow and lifted a drooping spirit up into the bright sunshine of hope. I am sorry to learn of the mishap to your finger. “I’ll bet” that jelly is sweet and good—I’ll guarantee that it’s sweet if you had anything to do with it.
I want so much to accept your kind invitation for Sunday, but plans that had been made, before receiving your letter, may preclude my going. In the first place I am not feeling at all well, in fact, I have not been well for some time, tho I have said but little about it, as I am not much given to the habit of telling my troubles to others. The burdens and worries I have had to bear and endure in past months would have severely tested the patience of even a Job. The compliment you pay your newly found hostess is indeed flattering and generous. I congratulate you on your “find” but I think double congratulations are due Mrs. Todd in having a guest of such charming personality. I can appreciate what grace and dignity you add to this hospitable home. I am wondering what has become of the Lazarus’ deal. Is it still pending? Mr. B., Miss Farmer had her guest Miss Worley, of Cleveland, and myself enjoyed a short motor ride last evening. My niece, Miss Marting, of Detroit, returned from Ironton last evening, to resume her visit with us.
Business at the Chemical plant is very dull and unsatisfactory. As I wrote you before, I have asked to be relived. Some definite action will be taken very soon. The company is hard pressed financially and may have to suspend in a very short time. This is strictly confidential.
The copious rains of the summer have given us beautiful lawns and I have never seen flowers and plants do so well. The temperature, thus far, save for a week, has not been oppressive.
I am making slow progress in reading the two books. The days seem to be too short. Speaking of Senator Todd—I met a Senator Todd and Mrs. Todd here last fall during the campaign. He was a candidate for the Republican nomination for Governor of Ohio. My impression is that he was from Youngstown.
Isn’t this the week of Miss Hopper’s house party?
Miss Allard entertained her physician friend from Dayton last Sunday. We just happened to meet her at the train when we left for Ironton. I wish I could say definitely that I will be in Columbus Sunday. You know how much I should like to be there. How well I remember that grand Sunday in Bucyrus! I can hear that beautiful hymn now. I can hear your sweet voice above it all. The inspiration of the entire service still abides. The sweetest memories cluster around you.
Part of tomorrow’s program is an auto drive to the Stockham fruit farm in Miss Stockham’s new Overland, leaving after dinner and returning about six. The farm is located at Henley, eleven miles west of here. The peaches are ready to harvest. It is a beautiful place. I was there about two years ago.
I almost forget to mention that your letter was received Friday morning the 13th, proving again that both are lucky for me. I understand President Wilson is strong for 13.
This letter may not reach you, if it doesn’t I’ll be there in its stead. If sent it will go special.
Lovingly, Fred.
[Columbus, Ohio, 4 PM, August 25, 1915.]
My dearest dear:
Am I an ungrateful wretch? Well dear heart, the surface may indicate that, but if you could read my thots, you would be forced to change your mind. Busy, has been my middle name all this week, but before I begin on business, I want to again tell you how much Mrs. Todd and I appreciated the flowers, and how thotful, kind, and dear, of you to send me the gloves. They are beautiful, and I appreciate more than I can say, so beautiful, yet useful and thotful a gift, coming from my only lover and sweetheart. I told the Todds (for we were at the table when they came) that you had said my others were “ripped,” and Mr. Todd said you ought to have sent me a spool of thread and package of needles. I like him fine, more and more, he displays such dry humor. Last night at the dinner table he told me he thot you were a fine young man, very thotful.
I see you are having an awful time framing up an answer to my Saturday’s letter. Well dear, maybe I can help you out a little. My Fostoria inquiry met with some satisfaction I guess, for Monday afternoon the supt. called on me to “look me over,” and from what he said, I think he was well impressed, but if you could have seen me, I don’t know what you would have said, for I just came from the sewing room. Anyway, he told me he would give me careful and serious consideration, whatever that may mean. Now dearest lover, if I can get that Fostoria job (you know you hold a job when you get under a hundred, he offered me ninety), nothing would please me better. It is near home, and near you. Our meeting place is understood at the Todds. I will be on my feet by spring, and business affairs for you will be straightened out (let us hope) f-o-r- y-o-u. If I take the job, nothing doing at Xmastime, only just love, love, love. Of course I haven’t got it yet, but Mr. Todd wrote to a Mr. Reed, a member of the board and good citizen, attorney by profession, and he told me he felt I was going to have the place. (I mean Mr. Todd felt.)
For the past three mornings I have gotten up early to write letters. Monday it was you, the other two have been business letters. I am pretty well caught up now, altho I owe Mr. Bower and Lena May yet. Mr. B. wrote me a nice letter Sunday and said he was hot after Mr. W. when he returned to see how I was. Did the scheme you told me of work? I mean bringing Misses Farmer and Morley down? He said he was coming down soon to see me. I hope he will not come this Sunday. The Todds are going for the girls Saturday out to Findley, and won’t be back until Sun. Mrs. T. said I might have Mr. W. come and stay with me. Are you game? They will probably go about noon Sat. and get back Sunday night. Now my precious dear, don’t you call up and ask me to come and see you, Sat. & Sun., for I will not come. I should love to, and appreciate more than I can tell the honor you do me, but I haven’t anything but my old summer clothes, and soon I will have some kind of a fall outfit, and if you really want me to, I should be glad to come and see you before I leave for my school. Now dear, I positively, and flatly, refuse to come this Sunday, so don’t think of it or ask me, but I should love to have you come Saturday night and spend Sunday with me, but I feel it is asking too much. If you can and care to, come. I can give you a no more cordial invitation.
We had the most terrible storm yesterday I have ever seen.
The mail man is coming so I must close this hurried letter. With oceans and worlds of the purest and sweetest love,
Roma.
[Columbus, Ohio, 1 PM, August 26, 1915.]
My precious darling boy:
Your dear sweet letter, written last evening, reached me on the afternoon delivery. Dearest one, do you realize what a beautiful, sweet, loving, tender, and kind letter it was, and how happy it made me? Dear, I too have heard that love is blind, and also that when the right one comes along you won’t see the faults, but just virtues. To be fair and square, I can say you have never, done anything to cause me pain, jealousy, or make me unhappy or dissatisfied in any way, and that is saying a great deal, don’t you think?
Darling, I have tried to be reconciled to the fact that I cannot have you every time I want you, and I have been determined not to ask you to come and see me, if I were in Columbus, because I know you will come as often as you can, but dear, Mrs. Todd wants you to come up and stay with me, she says she would feel better, then dear think what it means. This beautiful home all to ourselves. We may never have that privilege again. When you are rooming, or even in your own home, there is always a restraint, but here, it is ours, and at our disposal. Six weeks ago I would not ask you to come, indeed I would not have entertained you here alone, but dear, it would be impossible for me to love you with a more perfect, true, holy, love, and that love is reciprocated, for you have told me so. Darling, you must come this once, I can’t stand it to have you say no. These evenings are too grand to go to waste, and it just seems as tho I have so much to tell you I can’t write. I want to cuddle and snuggle close to you, and tell you I love you, and I want to be smothered and buried with your kisses.
Mr. B. has not said so, but I am afraid he is planning on coming up, and I am going to write and say we may go to Findley Sunday.
The picture taken from Life was surely good and appropriate and will return it.
Write me so I will get it Sat. telling me to meet you Sat. night.
With my love – Roma.
Thursday 6:30 A.M. Dear, I have just finished my letter to Mr. B. I told him we may go to F etc., also I told him I might teach in Fostoria, and speaking of remodeling my green, I said, “Mr. W. is afraid it will not be so good looking. Bless his old heart. He sent Mrs. Todd and me each a box of flowers for Sunday, has called me up long distance twice, and sent me a beautiful pair of white kid gloves.” Was that too much to say? I want him to know you are on the inside, and thot that would be a good way. Dear, the sheet I wrote last night, is not meant to be in answer to your lovely letter, just an invitation and demand that you come up Sunday, and so is this. I was so tired last night, and haven’t time this morning, but I do wish I knew what to say so you would feel it your duty to come up. I would rather have you come this time, than any other before I go away, indeed there will be but one more Sunday if I go.
Dearest sweetheart, you are too sensitive. I just feel like taking your heart out and kissing it all over, but seeing I can’t do that, I want you to hold me tight, and let me kiss your eyes, your mouth and your forehead. Sweet lover, instead of making you feel embarrassed, as you have said, I have only tried to make you see how great my love is for you, and how I appreciate any business project may take a tumble, and yet reflect nothing but credit and honor on the man.
Sweetheart, if your position is embarrassing, think of mine. I have seen myself almost penniless, yet have held a hundred dollar position, but does that unfortunate circumstance make me any different? Why I love you so devotedly now, and believe you so strongly, is because you know these things and love me just the same. Well dear, we are both of the orphan boy type, when it comes to friendship. Wish I had time for a real letter but I just close. Be sure and come.
With my truest and purest love. Roma.
[Columbus, Ohio, 5 PM, August 27, 1915.]
Precious:
Just a line to let you know I am “specting” you, and a few “instructions.”
If you do not come, please call me about one-thirty, unless you are sure I will get a letter in time. I do not get your mail as soon as you think I do, I don’t believe. But dear, if you do come, which I earnestly pray you will, I will not meet you, but will have lunch ready for you, so you take any car coming toward town, transfer to a Long, and come as fast as you can. Don’t hurry for the lunch, but hurry for the little sweetheart that will be waiting for you. Try and get shaved before you come, and don’t you dare stop on the way for anything.
Mrs. Todd and I got up at five this morning, and have gone over this whole house. She has gone down town and I am supposed to be sewing.
Lovingly yours, Roma.
QBA 