Love Letters of Nathaniel Hawthorne Volume II Part 24

_Dearest Wife_,

Mr. Fields tells me that a proof sheet was sent to Concord to-day, and he wishes it to be sent to him in Boston, so that I may look over it on Monday. You must put two one-cent postage stamps.

This has been a terrifically hot day. I shall leave for Concord (N.

H.) at five o'clock, and shall mail this scribble there, so that you may know that I have arrived safely.

With love to the old people, Thine, N. H.

TO MRS. HAWTHORNE

_The Wayside_, Sunday morng., Sept. 29th

_Dearest_,

We were disappointed in not receiving a letter last night, but doubt not all is going on well with you;--only that miserable headache. Why was this world created? And thy throat too--which thou wilt never be at the trouble of curing.

We get on bravely here, in great quiet and harmony; and except that life is suspended (with me, at least) till thou comest back again, I do not see how things could go better. We tried hard to be wretched on Fast Day, in compliance with thy advice; but I think it did not succeed very well with the two young people; nor could I perceive that anybody really fasted, except myself, who dined on potatoes and squash, as usual. I did purpose indulging myself in a plate of hot soup; but thy exhortations were so earnest that I gave up the idea, and am doubtless the better for my abstinence--though I do not as yet see that the country has profited thereby.

Mr. Wetherbie came to see me with his bill; but I informed him of thy orders not to pay it without some subtraction, and told him he must await thy return--which he seemed not unwilling to do. He is going to the wars!--as a dragoon!!--for he says he has all his life been fond of military service, and the captain of his troop is an "old military a.s.sociate." Thou wouldst have thought, to hear him talk, that this gallant Wetherbie was a veteran of at least twenty campaigns; but I believe the real motive of his valiant impulses consists in his having nothing else to do, and in his being dazzled by the sight of $200 in gold, which W. brought home--where he could have got it (unless by robbing the dead) I can't imagine; for his wages for three months would not have been more than $40. But really, dearest, the spirit of the people must be flagging terribly, when a sick old man like Wetherbie is accepted as a bold dragoon! It shows that good soldiers cannot be had.

Julian has had his hair cut according to his own notions; so thou must expect to see a scarecrow.

Do not thou come home on Wednesday, if it can do any good either to thyself or Bab to stay longer. But thou hast still another expedition to make, and the cold weather will soon be upon us. Kiss Bab for me and believe me

THY OWN OWNEST.