Spencer Heath Archive

Item 1795

Letter from 1240 Michigan Avenue, Chicago to Marie Holm Heath, 253 Villa Street, Elgin, Illinois

March 18, 1901

 

My Darling Sweetheart –

     I have been sitting here in my room wondering what I would do this evening till I have wondered a good part of it away.

     I had an uneventful journey this morning and an uneventful day at work. Another real spring day today — makes me sigh for the hills and dales. The few rustic scenes to be viewed from the train this morning brought to mind the inspiration that dwells in those scenes where the virgin earth smiles with expression. The blank flatness of these prairies makes me long for the hills with their lakes and streams. I think there must be some “Indian” in me, so many impulses call me away to the wild and free. I hope we may roam again together, Dear, many times, and if it may not be till the streams of our own enthusiasm are almost lost in the dry sands of prosaic life, I hope they may be refreshed from the springs of buoyant life that may come up in joy around us. Little Marguerite already shows signs of bright spirits that make it a delight to see her and make a reality of the “little, laughing stars that rise, in the clear heaven of childhood’s eyes.” And then, the wonder-look that is there forecasts the joyous revelations she will find in the great world, in childhood’s time. My childhood is still a reality to me. I could easily forget the grown-up things and enter into the joys and wonders of a child. Indeed, upon reflection, I think the child thoughts are often more mature, more comprehensive, and nearer to the heart and reality of things than the sordid, plodding, shallow mental workings of most of the adult minds. The Golden Age will be upon the world when we can all be free, to keep the heart and spirits of a child, aging only in the frame.

     Two young men are in the adjoining room discussing the merits of various cigars, and their unconscious interruptions are not favorable to continuity of thought. I think I will write a little note to my Grandmother and then retire in good season.

     Good night, my Sweet Love; blessings of joy on you and the little One.

Truly your own,

 

William

 

 

 

     We were short of linen today and I could only find a little piece which was soiled as I had it for a dust rag but I will send it along and perhaps it will do until I can get some more.

 

                                                      Wm