Letter from Betty Cannell to Rachel Cooper
Posted by: Erik M-H in Cannell, Lewis Dilley, Cole, Rachel (» Cooper), Interbay, SalemDearest Mother:
I am so clean I squeak and have on a new pair of purple pajamas — is that stylish enough to write you in? What you spose we had for supper last night? Wild duck sandwiches! Yes-ir! We went rowing on the river Saturday afternoon — it was a gorgeous clear day — and on the way back found a wounded duck floating on his back. We scooped him up and the boatman said he was one of a kind they’re not allowed to kill. Lew cut his head off and we roasted him and ate him! He was good, too, fat and everything. That same eventful trip we took Perry. He wouldn’t stand still in the boat, and finally covered himself with glory by tumbling head first out of the bow and coming up under the boat. He swam like a little fish and we hauled him all drowned-rat-ish, and wrapped him in Lew’s overcoat. I don’t think he’ll do that again soon! He’s getting awfully big and clever and naughty — he knows to ‘Howdy’ and to ‘charge’ and to ‘bring it’ and occasionally to ‘come’. Everyone spoils him, but he is cute.
You sound too tired and busy, Mother, you just mustn’t let yourself do all the working. You’ll be down sick and then what would happen? Is Jean really ill? Her letter sounded as if she had one foot in the grave, has she? I’ll send some sheets for the crib right away. I sent the zipper thing in desperation because I didn’t know what in the world she wanted and they said that would wash and wasn’t too heavy-weight. Send it back if she can’t use it. What sent Bill to Detroit? Do they build boats there? Do you have to do all the doing that’s done around there? No help or nothin’, Mamma? How much would a ‘cullud girl’ cost? Would you hire one if I sent you the money to do it with? I hate to think of you working so hard down there!
What was that magazine that Bill like to have and couldn’t afford to subscribe to? Would he like to be sent it for Christmas? Can you send me any ideas for people’s Christmas? I so much want to send things you all want, and am so sunk when I don’t know what those things are! What would please Grandma? Don’t tell and don’t read this out loud, and I’ll tell you what I’ve thought so far. The Readers’ Digest for Dad — would he like that? Clothes for Jean? What do you just need? Lew wants to know too, so could you write us a letter that talked a little about such things? Please! We do so want a letter from you — even if you are tired, wouldn’t it rest you to write us a little bit of a note now and then? Do you know it was just exactly a month from the letter saying there was a baby to this one from Jean telling us how fearfully hard you’re working?
What are you-all doing Thanksgiving? Lew’s mother and father are coming down to dinner and I’m stewing. How do you make cranberry sauce? How do you make stuffing? I know I can’t roast a turkey in this oven and I don’t know where to get a good turkey, anyway. Could you send me some very specific directions — for a wood-stove household — on how to get a Thanksgiving dinner? I have my lovely tablecloth and napkins but no table to put ’em on — only this little breakfast table that you can almost use a bridge set on. Oh, well, it’ll all come out in the wash, but I’d be so thrilled with a recipe and a suggestion or two. I cert’ny need you!
The landlady let us have an old rather disreputable looking table of hers, and Lew took the leaves off it and put a superstructure on it with a shelf in it and a pigeon-hole, and we painted the whole thing green, and now we have the best-looking desk you ever saw. Didn’t know I married a carpenter, did you? I had a letter from Jo today and she said the baby laughs out loud now, so maybe——. I sure hope so.
Lew’s father hurt his hand at the mill and has been in the hospital more than a week. He’s going to lose the finger — a little one — but the infection’s stopped and they’re expecting him home soon. Accident insurance took care of all the expenses for him, but she’s been terribly worried and we’re awfully glad to see him getting over it. Did I tell you that we went to Portland last week-end to sort of comfort and console her? I do so wish you could see our house — Lew’ll draw a plan. I hope you like house-plans, we seem to be always sending ’em to you.
I must hop to bed. You remember that when you went away you promised you’d write no matter what, and really, we do worry a bit when you don’t. You stop working yourself to death and take time off to say ‘hello’ at us anyway — we miss you such a lot! Gobs and lots of love to you all, Dad too, and a special gob for Munner.
Betty
P.S. We love you!