Celestia Colby letter to Vine Colby 6 Sep 1889

Sept 6th 1889

My Dear Little Vine

When I said good bye to you on the boat, and saw your papa carrying you away out of my sight, I meant to write a letter right off, all to your own dear little self. And as I sat on the boat and watched all the pretty things that we passed by I kept wishing that I had you on my lap to watch them with me. And I thought surely that I should write and tell you stories about it all. But the days have gone by, and though I think of you every hour of the day and sometimes dream of you at night, yet I have not written to tell you how much I want to see you - because I love you and Dorothy too. I am glad you have such a sweet little sister to love and to play with, and that she can sit all alone! The next thing you know she will find out what

her two little feet were made for and then she will go trotting all around with you - and you will have to watch and see that she does not get hurt, - and be a real little mother to her - because you love her. When she wants to pull your hair you must take her two little soft hands in yours and teach her how to stroke you cheeks softly instead of pulling your hair - -and say "poor l-i-t-t-l-e s-i-s-t-e-r V-i-n-e" and maybe after awhile she will do that instead of pulling your hair. She is a dear little mischief and does not know that pulling hair hurts any and she thinks it is such fun to do it. I wish I could have you both here for a while. It would make my heart jump for joy if I could only see you coming up the walk to see me. And I would fill your lap full of flowers every day - and may be every hour in the day. I have got enough "petunias" as you call them, to do them and nasturtiums too - and they are just as bright, as bright - can be and over my head as I stand at wash tub in the porch, the morning glory bells are swinging - hundreds of them, They hide behind the kitchen door

2 and peep in through the screen to see if there is any bright eyed little girl playing around the kitchen floor But they see only a gray haired old woman - who loves the bright eyed little girl who is so far away.

Then they climb up to the kitchen window clasping hands with the sweet peas and nasturtiums as they climb and all three, dance and smile, and sway and flutter and whisper among themselves "Where is she? Where is she?" And the saucy sparrows chatter and scold and I am afraid do not care a straw for you or me. but the dear little kitty birds all dressed in sober gray and black come every day when I am picking the great golden pansys and their purple sisters, and they [?] around among the flowers, whisking their tails, and saying "meaw, meaw" just as if they were kittens and wore fur instead of feathers. They even come right onto the porch, and I am sure they are looking for a little girl with a voice sweeter than their own - even when they sing their sweetest, and that is very sweet. And the other day when I went out to fill all the vases

with fresh pansys, wishing I could fill your own dimpled hands and Dorothy's too right over my head among the fall sunflower were a whole flock of birds - oh such pretty birds - all dressed in gold and yellow and olive [green?] and I am sure they were singing about you for each little bird was singing "sweet-sweet-sweet" & then they sang He-be, he-be, where can she be? Shes the sweetest little girl that can be - sweet-sweet." And all the time that they were singing the greedy little things were picking away at the sunflower seeds and having a good breakfast. They were not a bit afraid of me - and if you had been here they would not have been afraid of you either. They would have sung "Sweet- Sweet" and let you watch and listen till they chose to fly away - and then they would come back again for their supper and sing to pay for the food. I thought of the bright yellow birds, and of a little girl with brown curls with gleams of gold in them When I dropped the sunflower seeds into the ground one April day, for I knew the birds

would come to gather the seeds when the summer was gone. But how do you suppose they found them? First I saw one little yellow bird peering around a week ago among the sunflowers but there was no ripe seed for her breakfast only the great golden flowers, bending on their tall stalks, where morning glories were climbing all over them. But the little bird says "sweet, sweet" even then - and then she went away. But when she came again she was like the "old lady from Crumberland" she had all her children and her brothers and sisters, and cousins, and uncles & aunts - and maybe her grandmothers with her too! But there were seeds enough and to spare, and such a jolly flock of birds as they were, you do not often see nor hear and each and every one of them wore their brightest feathers and sang their sweetest song. The fathers and brothers all were gay in gold and black - in just the same style that their great great grandfathers wore a hundred year ago when they