a Secesh girl as partner. “Well, Charlie Bullock, two can play that game,” I wrote him.
Lizzie, think hard if you really want to break up housekeeping, and I know you will find the right course. No, I would not askfor advice from Mama and Papa. You know they do not trust our decisions, fearing one day we will bring dishonor on the Keelers. They will advise you to do only what would cause the least gossip. Billy writes me in secret now and says they had such a good harvest that he asked Papa to buy little Judah a pony. Judah is a timid boy, still afraid of horses, although it has been a year since he was stepped on by Charger. Billy thought Judah might ride a pony, but Papa said he could ride Charger or walk. The only thing Papa will give his children is a Bible, which is why I do not care much for church.
With a great deal of love to you and the girls and not much left over for James, I remain
Your ever-true sister,
Alice Bullock
October 15, 1863
Dear Lizzie,
For myself, I am disappointed you will not come, but I believe you have made the best decision for yourself. You are right to think of your reputation. As Miss Densmore admonished us, once lost, one’s reputation is not easily regained. Oh, don’t I know it, but Charlie never knew about the Carter boy, so it turned out all right. You must have been much cheered at Mrs. Grant’s remarks. What a lady she is. Now why couldn’t her husband have finished up his business at Vicksburg earlier so he could have put things to rights with James. But if you change your mind and want to come to me, why then, do it. Your life is worth more than your reputation (Mama would not agree, I fear), and if James threatens you again, then you have no choice. You are dearer to me than anything in the world but Charlie. I would ask him to write to James, but I think Charlie has forgotten his pledge of abstinence. He wrote in one letter that he got into a scrape, “but if I was drunk, I didn’t know it.” Besides, I never thought preaching at a person did much good. All Mama’s preaching never helped me.
The little quilting group met again today, and I am so sick of Iowa Four-Patch that I am sorry that ever I thought it up. It serves me right for being so proud. Since the quilting was here on Bramble Farm, I invited Annie to join us. Some wonder if she is really Secesh, since Kentucky is on both sides in this war, but myself, I think even if she is (which I don’t believe,) what does it matter whose hands stitch the quilts that keep the Johnnies warm? I know the men like the quilts. Charlie has told me they look forward to bundles of blankets and food from the Sanitary Commission but don’t care so much for what comes from the churches. “Preaching with porridge,” the soldiers call the church bundles that contain more Testaments than food. Bibles are as common as dogs in the army. Every soldier was sent off with at least one, and they don’t want any more. Many employ the pages in uses God never intended. And they blaspheme something terrible, Charlie says.
Annie was pleased to be invited to quilt and asked if I wanted her to set up the quilting frame.
“The frame we use is at Mrs. Kittie Wales’s house, and I don’t care to go to the trouble to take it down and put it up again.”
“I mean to say yourn,” says Annie.
“I haven’t one.”
“You got you one out back of the barn.” She led me to a shack where the Bullocks keep worn-out farm equipment, and under a broken wheel was a quilt frame—cherry it is, with cunning little wooden cogs. We got it out and set it up, and it’s steady and solid as can be. Not one of the cogs is broke.
When Mother Bullock saw it, she says, “I never thought to ask if you wanted that old thing.” If she had, I could have had an easier time of quilting this past gone year.
Because the day was warm, we set up the frame outside and had ourselves a jolly time. Jennie Kate came with her baby, but I don’t know why she bothered
Lizzie, think hard if you really want to break up housekeeping, and I know you will find the right course. No, I would not askfor advice from Mama and Papa. You know they do not trust our decisions, fearing one day we will bring dishonor on the Keelers. They will advise you to do only what would cause the least gossip. Billy writes me in secret now and says they had such a good harvest that he asked Papa to buy little Judah a pony. Judah is a timid boy, still afraid of horses, although it has been a year since he was stepped on by Charger. Billy thought Judah might ride a pony, but Papa said he could ride Charger or walk. The only thing Papa will give his children is a Bible, which is why I do not care much for church.
With a great deal of love to you and the girls and not much left over for James, I remain
Your ever-true sister,
Alice Bullock
October 15, 1863
Dear Lizzie,
For myself, I am disappointed you will not come, but I believe you have made the best decision for yourself. You are right to think of your reputation. As Miss Densmore admonished us, once lost, one’s reputation is not easily regained. Oh, don’t I know it, but Charlie never knew about the Carter boy, so it turned out all right. You must have been much cheered at Mrs. Grant’s remarks. What a lady she is. Now why couldn’t her husband have finished up his business at Vicksburg earlier so he could have put things to rights with James. But if you change your mind and want to come to me, why then, do it. Your life is worth more than your reputation (Mama would not agree, I fear), and if James threatens you again, then you have no choice. You are dearer to me than anything in the world but Charlie. I would ask him to write to James, but I think Charlie has forgotten his pledge of abstinence. He wrote in one letter that he got into a scrape, “but if I was drunk, I didn’t know it.” Besides, I never thought preaching at a person did much good. All Mama’s preaching never helped me.
The little quilting group met again today, and I am so sick of Iowa Four-Patch that I am sorry that ever I thought it up. It serves me right for being so proud. Since the quilting was here on Bramble Farm, I invited Annie to join us. Some wonder if she is really Secesh, since Kentucky is on both sides in this war, but myself, I think even if she is (which I don’t believe,) what does it matter whose hands stitch the quilts that keep the Johnnies warm? I know the men like the quilts. Charlie has told me they look forward to bundles of blankets and food from the Sanitary Commission but don’t care so much for what comes from the churches. “Preaching with porridge,” the soldiers call the church bundles that contain more Testaments than food. Bibles are as common as dogs in the army. Every soldier was sent off with at least one, and they don’t want any more. Many employ the pages in uses God never intended. And they blaspheme something terrible, Charlie says.
Annie was pleased to be invited to quilt and asked if I wanted her to set up the quilting frame.
“The frame we use is at Mrs. Kittie Wales’s house, and I don’t care to go to the trouble to take it down and put it up again.”
“I mean to say yourn,” says Annie.
“I haven’t one.”
“You got you one out back of the barn.” She led me to a shack where the Bullocks keep worn-out farm equipment, and under a broken wheel was a quilt frame—cherry it is, with cunning little wooden cogs. We got it out and set it up, and it’s steady and solid as can be. Not one of the cogs is broke.
When Mother Bullock saw it, she says, “I never thought to ask if you wanted that old thing.” If she had, I could have had an easier time of quilting this past gone year.
Because the day was warm, we set up the frame outside and had ourselves a jolly time. Jennie Kate came with her baby, but I don’t know why she bothered
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