Dear Clarence
"Little Polly Finders
Sat among the cinders
Warming her pretty little toes
Her mother came and caught her
And whipped her little daughter
For spoiling her nice new clothes"
-Mother Goose
June 8th 1864
Idlewood, Spencer Lane Bolingbroke, N.S.
Dear Clarence,
"I do hope this finds you well, happy and safely sitting in Aunt Dorothy's parlor or spare room. We all are missing you dreadfully. Mr. Nicholson is particularly distraught and has taken to haunting our doorstep daily, awaiting the return of his "fiancée". Is that term not altogether too high and mighty and startlingly grown-uppish? Not to mention, entirely too sophisticated for the likes of me. I am afraid that that I too will soon be stamped upon with this label, William is relentless. Although I do suppose you probably are thinking that I am an ungrateful wretch and he is better than I deserve, him being in himself, far too good for his own good. And goodness is not a natural aptitude of mine, as you well know and remind me of daily."
"Mother is as pleased as punch over this entire engagement affair. You should hear her talking on and on to her friends about the joys of having two devoutly reliable daughters. I do not know how they stand her, the airs she puts on about marrying off two daughters in the course of one year as if it were a competition. They talked about my dramatic reform from unladylike, romantic pagan into an eligible and marriageable bachelorette under Miss Christy's tireless nannying, for a whole afternoon; meanwhile there was me, feeling smaller and meeker than a mouse on the corner sofa. I still do not know that I am fully reformed, I do not feel in any way changed. I am still that raging wild thing chained to mother's pinky finger. I am simply more resigned to the fact that I am nothing without marriage, and my eccentric maidenhood would eventually tar and feather the family name. So, for the love of the Willis'! Goodness knows I cannot put up with this courting business much longer. Despite Williams extremely embarrassing attempts to be romatical, bless his soul, I refuse to be wooed. It is mother he has to worry about, and she is absolutely smitten. Yet, I still feel intuitively that I will let her down, yes I know you have no faith in my intuition, but a chapfallen grimace on mothers face is more than I can bear."
"And still, it was an arduous task to say goodbye to my students at the high school. They presented me with a bound copy of my favorite work of Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet; it's about a family feud and star crossed lovers... Sorry Clarence, I do realize that romantic prose has no effect on you. I don't mean to bore you, undoubtedly you have much to attend to with the wedding preparations (while we are on the subject, yes dearest reluctant confidant, I will be your bridesmaid) Needless to say, upon the presentation of the book, there was not a dry eye in the house. Oh how I love moldable minds, I truly believe that I have gotten through to them and that they will carry my teachings through their lives. Unfortunately, not all minds are putty in my hands, mother's is quite unmovable and set in stone. She would not hear of my performing the Queen Mab monologue for her guests. Instead I preformed it for the hired help, who proved to be an extremely appreciative audience. One new fellow, Walter Shirley (Incidentally my replacement as English teacher at the high school next fall. Oh, am I doomed to be haunted by the life I am leaving behind. Do the fates have no pity for the weary?) ,looked particularly moved by my performance. But, then he always has that dreamy look in his faraway gaze. Clarence, do not look so shocked. Nobody saw me associating with them. I can perfectly assure you that I have not further tarnished the family name inadvertently."
"But, back to business. As you know, mother has her hands full with our lovely and imposing visitor, Grandmother Willis. Her needs have quite ballooned so much as she sits upon her throne on wheels, that my paws are quite as filled unfortunately. She likes to go for walks constantly. Or rather, she likes to be taken for walks as I do all the walking and pushing. You may think she is a sensitive soul who shares my affinity for the great outdoors. But you would be wrong. I do really believe these walks have no other purpose than to indulge her in her greatest joy, nagging her poor granddaughter. She criticizes and antagonizes me to the bone! Saying things like, Bertha Ann, you are pushing too fast; Bertha Ann, why won't you be married and remove your burdensome presence from your poor little mother; Bertha Ann, your posture is horrendous; Bertha Ann, you are pushing too slow; Bertha Ann! Why, you aren't even listening to your grandmother! And then she adds a cough or two for effect. I simply reply "Yes grandmother WIlis." Or "No grandmother Wills." And then she proceeds to call me impertinent."
"I daresay I could go on, but I will not, I will spare you. You are probably mentally reprimanding me for not having any pity for this poor old widowed woman, named Anne no less. That cursed nobly homely name that is tagged along with Bertha, a perfectly respectable one. I sometimes wonder if mother added it just to spite me for not being that boy she wanted. Well, the cantankerous old bat is staying with us for good it seems, as she can do no wrong in her son and our father's eyes. The scariest thing about her is that she is my future. A withered and mean old lady with a bonnet to cap it all off. Dreamless, a burden on her relatives, unable to see past outward appearances and reputations because of years of love starved confinement. Oh woe is me. I try to avoid looking at her if I can, her eyes are too childlike and scared, like a work horse, afraid of declining health and impending death, which comes to everything whether rich or poor."
"But, enough, for now, it is time to get ready for the dance at Mount Holly. I wish you could join me Clarence; this is the last dance I will attend in my youth most likely, before marriage's leash takes hold. The party should prove to be awfully dull and respectable as always. I realize that this letter must have been awfully tiresome for you to read. But since you have read this far, if indeed you have, then let it be known that I appreciate your concern. I have only you to talk to, ever quietly judging but never lecturing Clarence, since mother scolded and then forbade me from keeping a private journal."
Affectionately yours,
Bertha Ann Willis
"p.s. My dear pony Diamond has taken ill, I fear the worst as do the hired boys. They assured me when father bought her that she was well bred and so had an excellent constitution. But it appears that it is not so. Please return soon, for I miss you."