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Identifier

WCA_6C_Rosa_1912_03_17

Date

3-17-1912

Physical Description

8 pages

Description

Letter to her mother describing a talk on campus by the President of Williams College, the initiation night for all new members of societies, recent harsh weather, and her frustration with a head cold; and responding to an article her mother sent her.

Transcript

206 College Hall, Wellesley, Massachusetts, 17 March, 1912. Dear Mamma: Of course it was rather mean to send you only one letter during the week, but after I wrote I didn't have time again till Friday night, and then it was too late to reach you before Sunday, so I waited. Have just returned from vespers with Julia. We heard the President of Williams College speak. The organ went off during the first hymn, which added a little to the excitement. But it [page 2] recovered again before it was needed next time. I don't know what is the matter with it lately. It quite often refuses to work. One morning in chapel it went off, and we had to do without it entirely. Thursday afternoon when I went for my lesson it wouldn't work, so we had to go up to the other organ. Esther is down entertaining Mr. Eusign I suppose. She had him come out to-night so that she could go to Easter Vespers next week with me,- wasn't she good? I don't know whether he likes the idea or not. I didn't have any letter from you yesterday,- at least, I don't think I did. I didn't go for the afternoon mail, [page 3] but Esther says I didn't have anything. I hope the back yard isn't frozen up, or anything else to make you wish I were a little girl again. You know I'm much more useful as I am. Although I don't think I’m very useful as it is. The man who talked to-night made me feel as if I am no earthly use to society at all,- because I sit here and work for high marks, and think of only myself. But it seems to me that it's ourselves that count a lot here in college. Perhaps not. All the people who have just made societies were initiated last night. The undercurrent of excitement [page 4] was very pressing and inspiring. The supper to-night was more dismal than ever, and I suppose will be from now on. You see all the people who count are down at the houses for supper. We had a breakfast party this morning, after quite a long vacation. Ate too much as usual. Anne was up to dinner with me, and after listening to the music, we made candy, and then took a walk. Not a very long one, to be sure, but got some fresh air. We dropped in to see Miss Swift a few minutes. When I came back I found “The Spell of Holland” on my desk, so [page 5] evidently one or both of the Fergusons has been here. I’m sorry they didn’t leave a note. They were at the last artist recital, and I spoke to them, but the younger one at least didn’t seem to know exactly who I was. The weather is simply wonderful now, isn’t it? I wish we had time to enjoy it more. But its [mis-spelling: it’s] almost too wet to walk anywhere, except on sidewalks. I never saw such a rain as we had Friday. In the evening it came down in such torrents, and the wind blew so hard, that I very unwillingly cut orchestra practise again,- I was afraid to take my violin out in it. I don’t know what Mr. Foster will think of [page 6] me. I’ve cut three times since Midyears’ already, and we have only eight more rehearsals before the concert. I had good luck in another way Friday though. I cut Musical Theory in the morning, and as it happened, the organ in Billings was being fixed, so they didn’t have any class. When I found it out I was almost disappointed that I hadn’t cut after all. I’ve been having a funny time with a cold this week. I suppose I got it by sitting up late last week. It isn’t bothering me much in my head or in my throat - in fact, I’d hardly know I have one, except that it makes me feel stupid (not intellectually but socially), and the [page 7] side of my face is sore. To crown it all I have a tremendous canker sore. So what talkative tendencies I have are completely squelched, and I feel like shutting myself up with my books, and not opening my mouth except to yawn. Its [mis-spelling: It’s] very droll I assure you. By vigorous applications of borax and quite generous amounts of sleep, I have the case well in hand, I think. I wrote Jordan Marsh Co. about the teapot, and they replied that they were sending it, but I haven’t seen it yet. Perhaps I may end by going after it personally. I am afraid that by the time it gets here, we will be in training, and so can’t use it. [page 8] I saw in the paper about the death of Mrs. Herbert Spicer. Will he continue to run the farm, do you think? Was much interested in the Buffalo Sunday Paper. Esther thinks the High School faculty are very queer-looking. If you advise me to use apples for beauty-culture, as the article recommends, you may furnish them, as they’re rather expensive out here. Could the same ones be used for rolling on the floor, exercising the arms, and eating, do you think? We get baked apples quite often for lunch, but no cream in evidence. Must stop now and write to Dr. Banks. With heaps of love, Mary.

Location

Wellesley, Massachusetts

Tags

Arts, Theater, and Music;Faculty, Staff, Administrators;Student Life

Subject

Cold (Disease); Weather; Musical instruments; Lectures and lecturing; College Hall; Billings Hall

Letter from Mary Rosa, Wellesley, Massachusetts, to her mother, 1912 March 17

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