Jane W. Cary

Publication Date


Document Type



4 p.


32 Dover Street,

Wellesley, Mass.

February 23, 1912.

Dearest Mamma,

Our credit cards came out

to-day and I’ve got to tell you—I just

passed Botany and one course in German,

and had credit in the others. The kids think

I’m crazy to feel badly; but I do. Of course

I got all the credits necessary, but to think

I didn’t get any more than I did! I’m

going to ask the woman about Botany, for

I truly have worked as hard on it as on

anything and she’s given me credit

right along. German—well, the trouble is

I don’t talk enough. There are some real

Germans and a girl who has studied in a

German school in the class and the rest

of us are scared to say anything. I’m going

to try my level best though, and I can

work harder in it. I don’t know why it

is, I have had more good times this year

and fooled more than I did last; maybe

I’d better stop. I havn’t [sic] fooled like some

have—my room mate for instance, with

her card, came a little note, saying, that

since her work had been so far below

diploma grade that she was hereby placed

on probation and warned that unless

[page break]

during the next semester her work showed

decided improvement, she might be

required to withdraw from college at

the close of the year. Two other girls in the

house had the same kind of little notes.

I think they are horrid; they have already

sent home twenty Freshmen, two

Sophomores and one Junior; it is the

survival of the fittest; all right. You

needn’t tell anybody, and I’ll do my

best to get straight credit this semester.

I suppose I wouldn’t feel this way now, except

that I had vain hopes of getting it this

time and I was sort of disappointed.

Enough, I’ll probably wish I hadn’t

written all this by tomorrow morning,

but I’m going to send it to-night. I’ll

probably cheer up as time goes on, I only

hope I don’t cheer up so much that I’ll

forget that I’m going to work.

I must tell you of the fun we had

last night. That and the night before were

Glee Club nights. We didn’t want to miss it

all, so Sarah and I put on light dresses

so as not to be conspicuous and went up

to watch things. We got up there just

before intermission. Soon people began

to come [strolling?] out (it was held in the

chapel in College Hall)—the men in full

dress, white gloves etc. and the girls in

the most wonderful dresses I ever hope

[page break]

to see, each with her bunch of flowers.

We had lots of fun watching them, there

were a lot of others doing the same; and

some of the men seemed so bored, they

didn’t know what to do with their hands,

while others seemed perfectly at their

ease. When they had gone back, Sarah +

I had a fine idea; we thought we would

go up on fifth floor and look down

through the air holes in the ceiling of the

trunk room and in some old laboratories

until we found some. But alas, others

had had fine ideas too and there was

hardly room for us to squeeze in. There are

five of them and it did look so funny to

see these girls lying flat looking through

this register like effect. We joined them

and heard most of glee club and saw

pieces of it. Just before it was over we

went down to be there for the cheering. We

cheered first, then the men from all the

diferent [sic] colleges. Of course Harvard and

M.I.T. had the largest delegation

and cheered most; besides them were

a lot who cheered for Yale, Princeton,

three for Pennsylvania, some from

Dartmouth, and two from California.

We all thought the last ones must be

Graduates, because we hardly thought

[page break]

they would come East just for Glee Club.

As a great luxury, houses were open until

eleven, so we stayed through it all. I’m

going to begin now and save my

pennies, so as to go next year. It is

two dollars for two tickets, instead of

for one, as I thought. But as it was,

last night I think we had quite as good

a time as if we’d been trying to be

entertaining and amuse a man—

We had a holiday, Thursday. I didn’t

do much but study and clean out my

closet and do nothing. The wind blew a

gale and it was too cold to do very


I felt real badly when I read your letters.

To think all my old beaux don’t love

me anymore! But we’ll see if we can’t

make them, when vacation comes again.

Seeing I’ve written these volumes to-night

I may write to Betty, Sunday, instead. Do

you care? She’s been awfully good and I’d

like to write to her, as I havn’t [sic] very


I hope my letter hasn’t been blue. Don’t

feel badly over it, just send me a few

comforting words. I’ll get over it on account

of my nature—for one of the girls in the house had to

write a theme on happiness a little while ago and she

came up and said she thought I ought to write it,

because she thought I was the happiest person, in the

true sense of the word, that she ever knew. Wasn’t

that crazy? With oceans of love, Mummy dear. JANE

[upside down at top of page]

P.S. I feel better now I’ve

written you and gotten

it out of my system