05. Nellie's Letters, March-April 1865

Norway. April 9th 1865.

My Friend Harry,

Your good letter of 20th and 21st ult, was very gladly received yesterday morning, and with what I consider most commendable promptness I attempt an answer. By reference to my diary I find that I wrote to you just three weeks ago today, and I remember too that the snow was quite deep at that time. Now I cannot see a particle look which way I will! The road is dry and dusty, the grass has assumed a decided tinge of green, the birds sing sweetly among the fresh young buds of the naked tree tops, and they tell me that the frogs have been piping merrily the past two evenings but I've not heard them -- much to my regret. Every thing gives promise of the approaching summer, which I

shall hail with intense delight. I am indeed glad to know of your safe arrival at the first stopping place of your long journey; of the comparatively few inconveniences, and the many pleasant diversions with which you have whiled away the long days on ship board. I should think one might find much that would amuse in watching the different phases of life and character in such a compact little world. Physiognomy was always a favorite study with me, so much so that I can sit for hours in a crowd of strange faces and not think of being weary. There is the Church bell, and I must go although I am just in the mood for letter writing.

Monday morning. I didn't think so long a time would pass before I should resume this writing, but we (Lue, Col., Rust and Lu Brown) were invited to take tea at Augusta's, so we went there from Church and stayed until time for the evening meeting, after that the mail had to be put up and then I spent the night with Lue, Thus we are reminded that "tempus

keeps fugit" -ing, also that the old fellow waits for no man or, what is very ungallant, woman either, but it passed in a jolly manner while we were at Mrs J's so I've no fault to find. -- Wish you might have made one of the party!

A week ago today we received glorious news. "Richmond is ours!" was flashed over the wires and every body was electrified thereby. Tuesday the patriotism of our good people threatened to burst somebody or something if no safety valve could be found, so they bethought them of our ancient cannon and straightway it boomed -- as loudly as it could conveniently. Hulda D -- brought out her pet, a gun "about six inches long," which she has kept silent four years that she might first fire it in honor of the fall of Richmond, and she says lighted the fuse herself. In the evening tar and tin horns predominated. "Take it all in all" this town has not indulged in so much of a celebration for many a day. Truly they have sufficient reason to rejoice and be exceeding glad, but I could not enter much

into the spirit of it because -- our brother is on the field of battle. We have a line written Sat. evening. He was unharmed at that time, but his Corps is with Sheridan and we can but be filled with apprehension. Yet a just God is over all who doeth all things well, and whatever be the issue I trust we shall meet it with due resignation.

Our reading circle flourishes. Last week we read "Much ado about nothing" in which I did Beatrice, the week before Milton's "Sampson Agonistes" was read, in that I had the part of Delilah, -- did you ever read it? 'Tis a splendid thing but very hard to read aloud. "As you like it" has also been read, Rosalind fell to my lot in that, so you will perceive that "this chile" has been rather conspicuous for one of her years and size.

Saturday evening was spent at Mrs Gen. Beals' by special invitation, 'Twer a euchre party, but Mr Virgin is quite anxious for me to learn cribbage so he undertook to teach me but I imagine found a dull pupil, although as a matter of courtesy he praised me a little and let me beat part of the time.

Tomorrow morning to start for Portland on a short visit -- wind and weather permitting, the latter looks now very much like having a a disagreable contrast with yesterday morning -- "Such is life which is the end of all things"!

I have read Eugene Aram, How do you like it? I was full of sympathy for the poor deluded fellow. Yesterday I came across "The dream of Eugene Aram" by Hood, a very thrilling little poem, Have you ever seen it? I've been reading some of Scott's novels lately. Isn't Jenny Deans a lovely character in his "Heart of Mid Lothian"? "The bride of Lammermoor" is interesting me now.

I gave your regards to Henry Rust and he wished me to reciprocate when I wrote, which you will please consider done, my bashfulness has prevented my delivering your other messages.

Perhaps 'twould be well for you to write to all the girls instead of intrusting messages to me because I give you fair warning that they may not be delivered, -- Harry -- don't trust