Postmark JUL 20, 1907 (“Friday Evening, July 19, ’07”)

you are the only specimen in Nature’s Nursery

Oh my Darling, if I could only put my arms around you now, it might result disastrously for you. I came home tired all out or rather all tired out (in love so much I can’t talk straight) it was nearly 8 o’clock. It was so warm that the perspiration was running from my face and hands, but I dragged myself in, straight to the mantlepiece where all of your letters wait for me. It was dark and I fumbled around quite a while (there was no time you know to light a lamp) without finding it, but I could not give it up. I was tired dearie, and as I couldn’t have those dear arms, those dear fingers, or that dear lap to sooth [sic] me, I must have that letter to sooth me. I believe I should have hunted all night if I couldn’t find it before. You will probably say “well why didn’t that poor darling of mine ask where the letter was?” Well — your poor darling never asks or says a word to anyone about these letters. The first thing he does upon returning home is to go directly and get that precious letter, without taking off his hat or coat or even saying hullo to the others. Isn’t he strange. If it were not for those letters — ##@@**!!! I love you dear!!!

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Merrymeeting Lake looking East, New Durham, N.H.

You took particular pains too [sic] get that letter here to-night didn’t you dear? Writing before you left for Merry Meeting Lake to go all day fishing.

You must have known, or something a mysterious something, told you that I would need a letter to-night. It cheered me so much, and rested me so much that I couldn’t wait until to-morrow morning to write, I had to sit right down and write now to-night. You are my dear, precious loving, sweet, thoughtful “water-lily” of the rarest and most beautiful type. You are the only specimen in Nature’s Nursery. Some flowers are beautiful, some flowers can think, some flowers can love, some can love and be loved, but not of them can be beautiful and can think, and can love, and be loved all at once but just you my own dear you. Oh darling if I could only put my tired head in your arms!! I want you, I love you I love you Oh I want and love you.

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Chester’s mother, Nora Mason Jones

Mother just came in and said to me “you don’t have much to say to folks nowadays do you” and she said last night after she had asked me one million 4 hundred and 38 questions that it was a hard days work to get me to say anything. You see dearie sweetheart that it sort of locks my tongue when your [sic] gone — gone away off. I love you, dear. Come back, I can’t help but say “come back” all though [sic] I know you cannot come. I want you, love! I read your letter before supper and also while I was eating it. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you, “a pair of soft arms at the journey’s end,” “a precious darling letter at the journey’s end” nowadays, a bright and cheerful fireplace at the journey’s end, a dear, sweet, pure, true darling Mabel at the journey’s end, and a dear sweet pure, true darling Mabel at the journey’s beginning, and all through the journey. I love you I love you, I love you. Put your arms around my head it is hurting. Make allowances for your crazy sweetheart lover for writing such letters, but he knows no better and cannot help it.

Love to you all from all of us. My love to you dear. I love you dear.

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I love you dear.

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(Love from me all to you all)

Anyway love

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Postmark JUL 19, 1907 (“(I love you dear!!) Friday.”)

I have no business to be writing such crazy and frantic letters

My Own Precious Darling,

Of course I know you would not disapoint [sic] me with not sending a letter. Tuesday evening, when I reached home, there were two dear letters waiting for me, and last night, (Thursday) there were also two dear letters. There is something the matter with the trains or the postmasters I guess. Two letters every other day is an average of one letter a day isn’t it? I love you dear!! But I would rather have one letter a day, it isn’t so long to wait. I want you to come home dearie, come home to me, come back to this poor longing sweetheart. He wants to put his arms around you. Before I forget I will tell you what news there is — mother went to call on Mrs. Cummings yesterday and was very much pleased with them, we are all planning to go out to the Band Concert with them some evening. Come dearie and go with us — with me. I am lost. I love you I love you I love you. Well I’m getting off the track but I love you dear.

The little Shippee girl died yesterday with the same trouble that the Luce boy did. Funeral is tomorrow. Haven’t heard anything from the Hatches, have you? Have you got a good place to put me when I come, which will be the 3d. week in August if it is convenient for you. How many days shall we spend with the Hatches?

Dearie dearie dearie dearie dearie I am so nervous that I can scarcely write. I want you I want you I want you I want you I want you, I go to bed wanting you, I get up in the morning wanting you, I struggle through the day wanting you. I want you!!! Do you suppose that we could get along with only 7 dollars a week? It is pretty small — It makes me crazy. I have no business to be writing such crazy and frantic letters, but my feelings are of a decidedly frantic nature. It will only be a short time only a short time.IMG_3020 I love you, I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you — dear.

It is nearly time for my car to go. You must get good and strong before I come dearie, for we shall want to make up for lost time. No there will be no separation like this again, even if I am getting only $2 a week. I love you dear. Remember me to your folks, and how is your mother feeling after her little spell of sickness, mother wanted to know. I love you I love you dear. My car is just going and I must stop. I love you I love you I love you I love you I want you I love you dear.

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“The little Shippee girl” Ada, born Feb. 22, 1900, died July 18, 1907

Postmark JUL 17, 1907 (“Tue. Morning. 7-16,-’07.”)

you are not so sick that you cannot write are you dearie, — God forbid

My darling, I feel just about as sober as it is possible to feel. And I felt pretty sober last night when I came home and found not even a sign of a letter from you. Dearie, I need a letter. Monday night more than any other night in the week, unless perhaps it is Saturday. One letter to carry me over Sunday and the other to comfort me after Sunday. I want you dear, I want you dear, I want you dear, I want you dear, I want you dear, I want you dear, I want you dear, I want you dear, I want you dear I love you!! When I found no letter last night, I was crazy enough to hope that you were coming instead. I want you so much dearie, that I can almost see you coming down the sidewalk, I can almost hear the doorbell ring I can almost feel you tight in my arms, I can almost feel those precious lips.

I don’t want to write dearie, I want to talk, to say “I love you dear.” You are not so sick that you cannot write are you dearie, — God forbid that you are. One day seems like a month to me. It is only a short time however before we shall see each other again. I love you, My Precious, my Dearie, my Darling, my Inspiration, my Courage, my Strength, my Love, my Star, my Queen, Fairie Queen, my Waterlilie, my Rainbow, my Daisy, my Violet, my whole Bouquet, my Jewel, my Angell [sic], my Sunshine, my Happiness, my Hope, My Everything!!!!! I love love love love love love love love love love !!!!!! you !!!!

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Keith’s Theatre, Providence, R.I.

We three boys went to Keith’s Theatre last night and saw “Peaceful Valley” it was good but you were not there. Everytime [sic] the hero put his arms around his sweetheart, it would nearly make me jump from my seat. I love you.

Come back dearie, come right back, I want you, I need you I love you.

The car goes and I must go. Sweet — come back to me I love you.

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Pages of the 1907 season program of the Edward F. Albee Stock Co. at Keith’s Theatre, Providence R.I.

Postmark JUL 16, 1907 (“Sunday Evening + Monday A.M.”)

I want you to be my wife, “real often” all the time

My Own, my precious Darling,

This is nothing but torture, when it comes half past three on Sunday afternoon it nearly makes me beside myself with longing dearie, longing for you. It is terrible. (You will think that I am a great big baby won’t you, by my everlasting complainings, but dearie I love you I love you I love you with all of my heart dear I love you. and yes — I want you to be my own sweet darling loving wife. I want you, I want you. It doesn’t seem as though I could wait another day. No dear, I do not think that you can get along without me better than I can without you. Why you cannot get along without me, and you will not because you must not. We can neither of us get along at all whatever without the other, can we?

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Round Top Church, Providence, R.I.

I took your music down to the Round Top this morning. Mr. Sweet is away on his vacation, somewhere in New Hampshire, I don’t remember if they said when he would return but they will see that he gets the music anyway. I didn’t stay and didn’t go to church anywhere. I don’t think I could stand it. Oh! I want you dearie I want you I want you I love you!!!!!!! You are coming back with me dearie, and no! no! no! no! I will not let you leave me again! — I am crazy, desperate, and I would not be at all surprised to wake up some night and find myself travelling as fast as my legs would let me to see my Mabel, to put my arms around her, away up to New Hampshire Rhode Island [sic]. We ought to be up in that piazza out in that hammock instead of where we are. Why do things have to be the way they are and why do things happen the way they do? It is all for the best tho isn’t it. We won’t have to wait much longer — only four weeks — Oh! Oh! Do you suppose dearie for one half an instant, that I don’t know what a girl, what a sweetheart I have? do you suppose any such a thing as that? Do you suppose that I would be so desperately, earnestly and deeply in love if I didn’t know what a sweetheart I have? I know what a girl I have when she makes me fall in love with her the way you have made me fall in love with you dear. I do not fall in love with every girl I see. I love you dear, I love you and only you. IMG_3010You will love me ten times more ardently some day, you will show me some day, my own precious sweetheart, yes I know you will, I cannot wait, come back come back come back come back. Yes I want you to be my wife I want you to be my wife, “real often” all the time. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I want you I want you I want you I need you I need you I need you I need you, I want you to be my wife, my own darling sweetheart wife, I will never never never no never and never let you go off again dearie and leave me. I love you dear, way down deep in the bottom of my heart I love you.

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p.s. (Love to all, “remember”)

I want to joke dearie, I want to make you laugh, to shriek with laughter until the tears come, but somehow I cannot joke, they seem all out of place and dry and coarse and besides I feel much more like giving vent to my feelings by having a good cry. I love you dear.

If I could only put my head in your arms, if I could only put my arms around you and kiss you if you were only my wife now then would I be truly happy.

Oh yes dear, I would stand and allow you to put your arms around my neck and kiss me before everybody + I would do the same to you. I love you. I love you!!!!!!!!!!

Monday A.M.

I love you dear!!!! No time for more. I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear. I want you Oh I want you want you want you want you to be my wife. I love you dear!!!!

Postmark JUL 15, 1907 (“#3.”)

If you don’t want me to kiss you right on the station platform, you had better not meet me

(Continued…) Sunday Evening. L  O  V  E

Let me put my arms around you dearie. Come to me now don’t wait any longer. This is the worst Sunday that I ever spent. I have been in the house the whole day long except for a few hours (about two) this morning when I went out in the back yard. Mother is playing on the organ and the music just about upsets me. Instead of writing this letter to you dear, I ought to be up on that piazza, in that hammock with you in my arms, your cheek against mine, — it makes me crazy. Come back come back come back come back.

I don’t know whether I can stand another Sunday or not. It is hard enough every day in the week. I love love you you you love love lovvvvvvvve love love love!!!!!?? Oh my own precious darling if I could only put my arms around you, if I could only feel you snuggled up close as I could squeeze you right next to my heart — “not in my vest pocket,” but right next to my heart, “O, goodness don’t you understand?” — right next to my heart.” It would ease the ache in my heart. My heart will ache just as long as you are not in my arms.

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Mabel’s train station in Alton Bay, N.H. had just been built in 1907.

If you don’t want me to kiss you right on the station platform, you had better not meet me when I come. — I couldn’t wait until we could get away.

As soon as my vacation is over I think I shall try and find another job whatever it may be in my line, and wherever it may be, as long as there is a larger salary with it, I can’t stand it this way any longer. To-day has about knocked me out. Come back Come back Come back Oh sweetheart, it keeps coming upon me, that I must have you right away, I must put my arms around you. Dearie, I hope that this experience is all for the best, it is a pretty hard experience for us both. I love you, I love you, I love you I love you I love you I love you. You will never go away again dearie unless I go to [sic].

It has taken all day to write this letter, I cannot leave it. I cannot talk to you, therefore I must write to you, say something to you. Whatever it is, you are concerned. If it lasts much longer, I doubt whether you will find me in my right mind or not when you return. I feel half crazy now and guess this letter sounds crazy. I am in love dear, in love with you and desperately in love with you.

Love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love,

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Monday A.M. = I love you love you love you. Come back. I want you. I love you I want you. Come dearie, my arms are waiting.

I love you

Postmark JUL 15, 1907 (“#2.”)

Love love love isn’t it glorious dear?

(continued…) come back. Did you feel as though you must fly to me and “never-never-never” leave me again? If you had come flying to me dear, I would have caught you with both arms wide open and I would have held you so tightly that you couldn’t leave me again. I can’t let you go again it is too much. Love love love isn’t it glorious dear? — Love like yours and mine. I can’t get over it to think that I can’t go up to see you this afternoon at half past three. There is nothing that will take up my mind. I can’t go next Sunday or next Sunday or next Sunday but it will be “only for a short time” won’t it? It makes it seem a little shorter to say that and think that — but I want you, I want you I want you you you you you come back dearie.

I LOVE YOU!!!

I never thought that I would even be writing letters like these either, dearie, I hadn’t ought to get so desparate [sic] had I, it makes you feel so badly while you are away trying to enjoy your vacation I don’t want my letter to bring tears, and yet I do, Oh dearie I don’t know what I do want except you, I cannot help but get desparate, hard as I try, I want you I want you I want you. The harder I try to make my letters make you laugh, the harder I try to make them sound cheerful and bright, the more desparate I get and the letters have just the opposite effect. I want to hold that dear head in my arms and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss those tears away. I am selfish dear, that is the matter. I am too selfish to make myself cheerful and to try and make you cheerful too. I will keep trying and perhaps you will get a cheerful letter, one that will make you laugh, one that will make you scream. When we finally do get both ends to meet, we will put them together so that they will never come apart. This will be absolutely the last time that we will have another separation like this.

I can’t tell you any news for I don’t know what is going on around here. I shall stay in New Hampshire, Rhode Island [sic] until you return. Come soon won’t you dearie. Write as often as you can, it is all that I have now you are gone. Come back dearie. I love you.

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p.s. I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear

Remember me to your folks and tell them that I would like to be there (you know why) I shall come, I must. Your little picture is in one of my note books now, where I can get at it easier, you know how hard it was to open my watch cover and once in a while I have a little spell that I want to see it immediately, where if it were in my watch the result might be injurious to the watch.

I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear I love you dear…

#3
(to be continued…)

Postmark JUL 15, 1907 (“Sunday Morning Love — Love — Love.”)

it is like tearing my own heart out — ***!!!???

My Darling Love, my Precious Sweetheart, Dearie dearie dearie dearie dearie, Can’t you come home for just this afternoon, you know how I want you dearie don’t you? I love you I love you. My thoughts, my heart, my soul, my mind, my whole being is one continuous, never ending, everlasting love letter to you. Whatever is happening or has happened or is going to happen, I am constantly saying “I love you dear, I want you dear, fly to my arms, lay your dear head on my shoulder, let me kiss those sweet lips, let me kiss those precious tears away, let me hold you tight forever and forever and forever — darling I love you,” Let me look into those deep brown eyes dearie, let me look way down to the bottom. There are precious treasures way down at the bottom of those eyes for I have seen them before — I would never tire of looking at them. Just one look, just one hugg [sic], just one kiss, just one word of love, love, love and even then I wouldn’t be satisfied, I shall always want just one more there will never be a last one. Darling my own darling, I love you, I love you, I love you.

They are calling for me to come and help make ice-cream, dearie it makes me nearly go crazy even to have anyone speak to me, sometimes I will get to talking, laughing, cracking jokes and making the others laugh but it is all a crazy nervousness. I don’t feel like laughing at anything or saying anything, but they don’t know it. Dearie, dearie I want you, I need you I love you. I hope you will feel better so that you may enjoy as much as possible the vacation, but it is pretty hard to enjoy anything, really enjoy it, even if you, (we) do feel in good health isn’t it? (Yes, dear we are going to spend our lives together, and we will enjoy our lives then, all the more for being separated now, but I don’t want to have any separations at all in the heart. It makes me throb and thrill all over and through to read your dear letters. Well I have written all this and haven’t started to help with that ice-cream — it seems as if I couldn’t stop. I love you I love you I love you I love you! — it is like tearing my own heart out — ***!!!???

Here I am, dearie back again at last, we had good luck with it, come and have some with me out in the hammock. It is a beautiful day, too good to lose. I am not dressed up for Sunday and don’t think I will for I am not going away anywhere. I had to take a Danielson car the other day to go on business (alone) and I don’t know how I ever got through with it. I love you, I love you I love you. We didn’t have to work Saturday afternoon and so I spent the time on some work for Mr. Tripp. It took me all the afternoon to do a few hours work because I would keep finding myself sitting back in my chair and thinking hard of you you you you I can think of nothing but you my “angell” [sic] my darling…

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 (to be continued…)