someone of what happened yesterday. The Union is the only hope of true human freedom in this world: this I truly believe. And, I believe that its preservation takes precedence over—I know I should write the word “everything” and I can not. But I do not know what to write instead.
Oliver has joined the Army. Recruiters came to the island’s Fourth of July Fair and Celebration yesterday, giving away free liquor and accompanied by a small company of soldiers doing very smart drill in their wool uniforms in spite of punishing heat. The Captain engaged Ollie in talk, saying, I’m sorry to hear you have a broken leg—or is it the consumption, that’s keeping you from joining up? Or is it only that your “wifey-ifey won’t wet her ‘ittle man go?” Will Kydd, who fetches the mail from Belfast every Monday, tried to answer back, but the Captain dismissed him as “one of those men who’d rather see himself walking around safe, and his nation crippled.” At length Oliver, in a burst of pride, signed the recruiting papers, before I could get to him.
Elinor assures me that Peggie “would rather die in childbed” than be “married to a coward”—which, in fact, I don’t think is the case. She further assures me that it’s only a three-month enlistment—until apple-picking time—and pressed into my hand one of her Propaganda Society pamphlets, the verse enclosed. Yet, even if Ollie only goes to Virginia for that short while, it does not lessen the danger while he is there. Through the wall that separates my room from theirs I could hear Peggie crying, all night.
I am still angry today. Should I be angry with myself, for feeling as I do? Is it evil to love my brother [ more than —crossed out] [ as much
as —crossed out]? Is it wrong of me even to write these questions to you, who have lost two precious brothers and the home you loved?
Remembering your letter, I went to the attic and searched out
David Copperfield
, which I knew I had seen in Mr. Poole’s trunk: seeking proof I suppose that I am not insane or wicked to feel, at the same time, genuine love and blinding rage. Bless you for not holding me to any of what I have said above.
M ONDAY , J ULY 7
E VENING
Your letter came like an answer to the thoughts tearing at my heart.
Everyone sounds the same. Hating the Yankees. Wishing every one of them would die
. I cannot say the relief it brings me, to read that you don’t hate
me
, or wish my family impoverished or my house burned, in revenge for your brothers’ deaths. Sometimes I feel as if I were surrounded by strangers, who only
look
like the people I used to know …
as if everyone who favored the Union had conspired to murder our brother
. Like Mother, I suppose, telling me horrible tales of children’s deaths, to lessen the hurt she still carries for the little girl she lost.
L ATER
I take back what I’ve said about Elinor. I suppose it just shows how mixed are the elements of the soul. That was she who came to the door of the summer kitchen just now, with the news from her father, a selectman of the island, that I’ve been offered the positionas schoolmistress on Isle au Haut. Among the men who volunteered along with Ollie was Peletiah Small, the Isle au Haut schoolteacher. The town is now offering a bounty of a hundred dollars for enlistment, but hired men are dearly expensive now, if they can be found at all. I think this is Elinor’s way of making good this loss.
T UESDAY , J ULY 8
Laundry; a task infinitely easier in summertime when it can be done every two weeks instead of every six or eight. I still feel as if
I
, rather than the sheets, had been boiled in a tub. Ironing tomorrow, nearly all day, and picking the first of the cucumbers and stoning cherries for Mother to put up. How I love the feel of garden-earth between my fingers! The sky holds light until ten or ten-thirty at night. We all live in the summer kitchen, as late into the evening as we can stand the mosquitoes, which seem
Oliver has joined the Army. Recruiters came to the island’s Fourth of July Fair and Celebration yesterday, giving away free liquor and accompanied by a small company of soldiers doing very smart drill in their wool uniforms in spite of punishing heat. The Captain engaged Ollie in talk, saying, I’m sorry to hear you have a broken leg—or is it the consumption, that’s keeping you from joining up? Or is it only that your “wifey-ifey won’t wet her ‘ittle man go?” Will Kydd, who fetches the mail from Belfast every Monday, tried to answer back, but the Captain dismissed him as “one of those men who’d rather see himself walking around safe, and his nation crippled.” At length Oliver, in a burst of pride, signed the recruiting papers, before I could get to him.
Elinor assures me that Peggie “would rather die in childbed” than be “married to a coward”—which, in fact, I don’t think is the case. She further assures me that it’s only a three-month enlistment—until apple-picking time—and pressed into my hand one of her Propaganda Society pamphlets, the verse enclosed. Yet, even if Ollie only goes to Virginia for that short while, it does not lessen the danger while he is there. Through the wall that separates my room from theirs I could hear Peggie crying, all night.
I am still angry today. Should I be angry with myself, for feeling as I do? Is it evil to love my brother [ more than —crossed out] [ as much
as —crossed out]? Is it wrong of me even to write these questions to you, who have lost two precious brothers and the home you loved?
Remembering your letter, I went to the attic and searched out
David Copperfield
, which I knew I had seen in Mr. Poole’s trunk: seeking proof I suppose that I am not insane or wicked to feel, at the same time, genuine love and blinding rage. Bless you for not holding me to any of what I have said above.
M ONDAY , J ULY 7
E VENING
Your letter came like an answer to the thoughts tearing at my heart.
Everyone sounds the same. Hating the Yankees. Wishing every one of them would die
. I cannot say the relief it brings me, to read that you don’t hate
me
, or wish my family impoverished or my house burned, in revenge for your brothers’ deaths. Sometimes I feel as if I were surrounded by strangers, who only
look
like the people I used to know …
as if everyone who favored the Union had conspired to murder our brother
. Like Mother, I suppose, telling me horrible tales of children’s deaths, to lessen the hurt she still carries for the little girl she lost.
L ATER
I take back what I’ve said about Elinor. I suppose it just shows how mixed are the elements of the soul. That was she who came to the door of the summer kitchen just now, with the news from her father, a selectman of the island, that I’ve been offered the positionas schoolmistress on Isle au Haut. Among the men who volunteered along with Ollie was Peletiah Small, the Isle au Haut schoolteacher. The town is now offering a bounty of a hundred dollars for enlistment, but hired men are dearly expensive now, if they can be found at all. I think this is Elinor’s way of making good this loss.
T UESDAY , J ULY 8
Laundry; a task infinitely easier in summertime when it can be done every two weeks instead of every six or eight. I still feel as if
I
, rather than the sheets, had been boiled in a tub. Ironing tomorrow, nearly all day, and picking the first of the cucumbers and stoning cherries for Mother to put up. How I love the feel of garden-earth between my fingers! The sky holds light until ten or ten-thirty at night. We all live in the summer kitchen, as late into the evening as we can stand the mosquitoes, which seem
Similar Books
