I did not want to write to you until I could say something definite in regard to Bear Mountain. When I got here I found Mr. B had not begun to go to Wolcott, & he assigned as a reason the sickness and death of Uncle [203]Andrew. Various occurrences delayed us till last week when by great exertion I managed to get off with ’Lonzo—cart, baggage & provisions for a week’s use. Got to the shantee about 8 o’clock at night without accident, except that while I was gone ahead to hunt up the shantee, the bedclothes got off & ’lonzo found them half a mile back, wet & muddy. We made a fire, cooked our supper & turned in.

The next day we went to cutting, & the two succeeding days to dragging off the wood, that was scattered about the land, getting it in piles, that it might not be covered up by snow falling, and be more accessible when we shall have sledding. I cooked—we had a leg of beef, ham, potatoes, bread, etc., gridiron, spider, kettle, etc. There was a big spring—dug out for cattle close by the shantee—in which, or out of which, I had a bath every night & then turned in—after the first night being all alone a mile from anybody (Alonzo being sick of the shantee). I liked it very much.

Sat up with a hot fire reading Zimmermann on Solitude (which will rank next to the Bible & Prayer book in my Library. I think it is one of the best books ever written. I wish everybody would read it) till 10 o’clock or so. Turned in & rolled up in a buffalo [robe] till ’lonzo woke me the next morning. Had breakfast about sunrise. Then A. would go off carting, & I’d stay to wash the dishes etc., after which I’d take my gun & dog, & go exploring, and I found some of the most picturesque & sublime scenes I ever saw—within a mile or two. The mountains are remarkably grand, and every few rods almost is a brook which winds about in the gorges till it finds the most effective spot for a display—when [it] jumps off & comes tumbling & smashing through the rocks, over the side of the mountain in the most astonishing manner. From the highest summit—which is entirely bare of any vegetation higher than tear trousers and is, I believe, on our land—I saw at the same time all the country between here & [Mount] Tom & Holyoke with the Tower—away off east, the mountains over the river—& south to Long Island etc., I don’t know where you’d find a more extensive or beautiful prospect.

Shot one partridge. Tore my clothes—old pantaloons & jacket—all to rags. Kept my feet wet & everything else, but couldn’t catch cold. On the contrary, cured my old one.

Well, Friday morning, “Alonzo had one o’ his turns.” You know he’s been crazy once, & they can’t or won’t do anything with him. Botheration. I tried to reason with him. Might as well talk to the cattle. Then I pretended wrathy: “What do you men, Sir!” & all that. No go. All I could get out of him was: “I know what I’m about. Ain’t a—goin’ to have our things in this damned old smoke house any longer.”

I knew there was nothing to be done with him. He wanted to go board at Frost’s, & thought I should go too, I s’pose, when he’d taken off the things from the shantee. So without saying a word to me he goes about it. We had been as good-natured, & chatty, & confidential as could be, half an hour [204]before at breakfast. Of course, I told him I did not want anything more of him, & he “might go home.” Then good-humoredly I lent him a hand till I saw him on the road home, when I took my gun—& making a circuit of ten miles over the mountains West—I got home about 8 o’clock p.m. somewhat hungry (Friday night.)

He told the folks, “we were a’most out of provision, & the cattle out o’ fodder, & we thought we’d come home day afore Saturday.” I told his father how ’twas. He laughed and said something about “one of his turns—since he was sick that time—’fraid he’d be crazy,” & so & so—hem. I s’pose he expects to go up again this next week. Don’t know whether he will or not, but I think I shall go & live alone in the shantee & let him & his father stay at Frost’s—if they choose.

I think we had better turn most of the wood into coal which is worth $18 a ton. Very high now. Wood very low. If you wish, send down your Irishman, to stay with me in the shantee. Wages are $12 or $13 per month. Alonzo expects $13, but that will depend. He is a first rate with the axe. A man offered to chop for me at 25 cents a cord. He said wages were from 12 to 16 dollars & he’d had $18—liar.

Andrew died of western fever & doctors—was cheated out of what he was worth by one of those rascally Toledo sharpers—blades—swindlers—merchants or speculators—last summer. Has left a wife sick, with one child & another born since he died. Her father & uncle both died in the same house within three weeks before Andrew—nine heirs, estate not able to pay its debts. I’ve seen, loved & pitied his little daughter “Meribah,” aged seven or so, boarding at her aunt’s in town—that she may attend school—first time this winter—very interesting—confiding & pretty.

There’s to be a festival or tea party or fair or humbugging auction [. . .] of some sort to come off here on Valentine’s evening: for the benefit of the Presbyterian church & all that. They seem to expect great things of me. I don’t know what reason they have to, I’m sure.

Gov. Foote’s darter, a young old maid in specs, wanted to know how many valentines I’d engage to prepare! Thunder! Then they came to our house with a sleighing party. Invited to go with ’em—went—kept up till morning, eating raw meat of some sort & drinking hot coffee water—for which, I suppose, they left a dollar unpaid for me to settle—after I’d made a speech thanking ’em & all that bosh!

One of the girls—Judge Basset (a loco-foco)’s daughter from somewhere near New Haven—got sick. As there was nobody else seemed to care a cuss for her, & she was decidedly the best lady of the whole of ’em, I devoted myself to her—the whole night. And she appeared very grateful & all that. Of course we are engaged after that, & I shan’t be surprised at all to hear our publishment one of these Sundays. And now they talk as if it was a matter of course that I should hire a horse & sleigh her up to it, etc.

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I wish you’d order me home or else send me some money & a ream of light blue note paper.