July 1871
Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 2, 1871
Last evening I saw a deer leap over the sand hills. A shower is coming, we need rain badly. The boys brought more wild plums.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 3, 1871
I had expected to spend the 4th at home. Saw Jake to day, and he says there is to be a picnic down at the old Indian Encampment, and all the neighboorhood is invited. Mr. Smith is coming for me ct.
Baked in a. m. Good bread, How Philip enjoys it. Called at Roses this p.m. Mr. R gave me a snake rattle with 10 buttons, It must have been a big snake. Mosquitos so bad I must stop.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 4, 1871
The glorious fourth, not a cloud in the sky. Mr. Smith came for me with a two horse wagon, and we took other women along on the way. There were two dozen there counting the children. Five or six bachelors, I the only single woman— the rest married folks and children. Of course they teas me. They think I am an old maid 22 and not married. Girls marry so young out here.
As I have no stove— they had sent me word not to do any baking. Mrs. Rose, Mrs. Lane and Mrs. Springer had all baked a plenty. Then we had canned fruit, lemonadade— coffee and roast meats. A swing for the children, gay conversation for the elders.
I am tired this evening. Philip did not go to the picnic.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 5, 1871
Washed this a. m. to the garden this p. m. From here it is quite a walk, over a mile. From the garden it is not far to where my dug out is to be. I wish it was finished, for I think Philip would be better if we were farther from the river.
A little way from here and toward the garden, are sand hills. Sometimes I walk a crost them, and sometimes around them. The higest is 15 or 20 feet high, and hollowed out like a saucer. The wind blows the sand that way. There are fine yuccas growing near there, with bloom stalks higher than I am. The other way from here— toward the North house— is Philip’s corn and mellon field.
A Mr. Philips was here for supper. He and a Mr. Cramer have claims up the river—and live in a dugout.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 6, 1871
While I am not living on my claim, it is beeing improved all the time. The dugout will soon be finished, and for Philips sake I will be glad to get away from the river. The people here think I am a bunch of contentment, because I dont get homesick, and fuss. If I do not feel well or am blue, I dont tell every Tom, Dick, or Harry, that is all, except that I possess a big bump of adaptability. When brother is not well, I try to be cheerful and hopeful, although I could say, and with truth, “I am not merry, but would feign disguise The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.”
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 7, 1871
This a. m. went to Roses and ground a lot of coffee. Sometimes I pound it in a bag. Mr. Rose brought me a big letter from my home. He said “Miss B – if you dont get decent letters, you need not expect me to hurt myself carrying them to you.” He keeps a suply of quinine on hand, and some other drugs, and suplies those who have ague— and there are several afflicted now.
But it is Mrs. who is the Good Samaritan in this locality. One day when I was there, she was taking care of a sick hearder, who was lying in the shade of the house. She was making broth for him ct.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 10, 1871
Last Saturday I walked way past Lanes, down to Marklies, Mr. M – had told Philip he would be away over Sunday, and his wife was so timid, so P suggested I go and spend the night with her. She was so glad to see me, she could talk of nothing else for a while.
They are only half a mile from the trail. Sunday a. m. we saw coming over the divide a great heard of cattle and some hours later another heard. They crossed the river and moved on toward Whichita.
While we were eating dinner, we heard a noise, and some two dozen oxen had come over the river and were in her garden— We yelled—and with a broom tried to drive them away — Then they went to a corn patch, and it was not safe to leave the house—as they get cross— and their immense horns are wicked looking. Mr. Rose told me he had seen steers whos hornes were five and six feet from tip to tip. He also said they were driven north— butchered, and the meat packed in their own hornes—and shiped to Chicago, Such yams I hear a plenty. Well it was 4 p. m when some men came riding a crost the river for the cattle, and in that time they had nearly destroyed two acres of corn.
I had promised to go to the grove where we had the picnic, and help organize a bible class, but it was so late before it was safe for me to leave, that I went direct home. J. R had been sick. Jake had been down and took him up with him— I have not done much to day.
Looks like a heavy storm was coming.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 11, 1871
Baked. Slow raising and took me all morning. Plenty of rain last night. The storm must have been terrific out on the prairie. Philip saw a hoarder who told him a heard of 2000 cattle had stampeeded in the night and scattered in every direction. Not likely they will ever find them all. I am so glad they never come this way.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 12, 1871
I am out of sewing. The river to high to go to Roses, and it is too far walk to Springers to get some stiching done. P- has had a touch of ague again. Fixed some plums to dry. Wrote a four page account of the picnic. Will send it to a W- paper.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 13, 1871
The warmest day we have had. Between the sand hills and the trees, we get little breeze. I scarcely know what to do, just now I am seeing considerable of the unromantic part of life in Kansas. Even too warm to sleep.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 16, 1871
A cool windy night, and a good sleep. Some of the boys are down from W. They stop at the North house, which we call Bachelors Hall. They called this a. m. Brought me some mail. They were full of fun. They are working hard to pay for their claims. Wichita is 18 months old, and claims 1800 inhabitants. It is a fast place in more ways than one.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 17, 1871
Washed, hung the clothes on the bushes to dry. Will borrow Mrs. Roses irons to iron a few pieces. Do not iron often. Glad when the clothes are clean and smell good. Nearly out of writing paper— Home folks keep us in stamps— Mother send hops—and I make hop yeast— that is why the bread is so good and sweet.
Jake rode down on a mule this eve. He is going to town to morrow. Phillip is sending along for some things. I asked him to bring me a pennys worth from town. When he left— I said “dont forget the pennys worth,” and as P- was walking up the path with him, I called, “I must remind you of that pennys worth.” He just hawhawed and laughed.
Some of these young men are nice, and we do have merry times, but it could not be, if my brother was not here. He is so quiet and particular, and would soon rebuke me if I should be indiscrete. He is a good brother. The Roses Jake and others think so much of him. Jake deserves a good wife, and I think there is one waiting for him in Ohio.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 18, 1871
Yesterday went for plums. In p. m. sewed a while, then put the cabin in order, and started down the river waiding from one sand bar to another. So much easier, and nearer than going through the high grass, and not so likely to meet snakes. Today I saw the skelaton of a very long snake caught in the brush. It must have lodged there during the high water.
Mrs. Lane urged me to stay all night, but her brother is with her for company, and Mrs. Merkle is alone again, so I went there, which I knew would please my brother. She was glad to see me. Her baby is too heavy to carry—so she stays at home when he is away working.
After breakfast, I called at Springers, and she went with me to Lanes. Found Mrs. L— in bed shaking with ague. Left Mrs. S— there and went on home. It was almost sun down. I was in the middle of the river on a sand bar—dress up—shoes in hand, when I stoped and looked around. The river made a turn, and the trees seemed to meet over the water. It seemed like a lake. On one side a high bank—the trees coming to the waters edge on the other. O it was beautiful. Think I will never forget the scene.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 20, 1871
The usual a. m. work, then cut out a basque or sack for me. Am getting out of every day dresses, but have lots of petticoats. Called at Roses this eve. She had so much to tell of her trip to town, and I of my calls down river, we just laughed. The sun went down—and I had to hurry home. I dont like to cross the river unless I can see the sand bars, and it takes time to put off and on stockings and shoes. I promised to go back as soon as my sack is finished, and tell her all I know. “Yes,” she said, “and you can manafacture some more in the meantime.” The evenings are cool, the mosquitos not so bad.
Brother tells me Jake has ague. Too bad. Papers from home. How they remember us.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 22, 1871
Put off writing yesterday until evening, then I had bread to set—and beans to shell, then it was too late. The mellons are almost ripe. The boys are working at my dug out. It is near our garden. Went up this p.m. to where they are working, then to the garden, and brought eatables home. Philip spoke to me about the old dress I had on, I like to please him so I will wear another. Mr. Rhas been to the post office— we have one at the ranch now called Clearwater I believe.
He is calling, and the boys have gone a crost the river. He is horse back, and on account of the quicksand it is dangerous to cross at night with a horse. Two letters for me.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 24, 1871
I wanted to wash but it was cloudy. I baked however, and sewed. J. R. will not be here this week, he will help Jake make hay. It is much pleasanter for me, when brother and I are alone. Jake rode by this eve with a big bunch of onions, when I asked for my pennys worth, he said it was up at the house, and if not worth coming for, I could not have it. Then he threw a big onion at me, and rode on.
I am to help Mrs. Rose with her sewing some day this week. Mr. R wanted to know who Observer was that wrote up the picnic foot the paper.
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Abbie B., age 22, Kansas
July 30, 1871
Have not written for some time, as I am nearly out of paper. We had a terrible storm last night, and this morning it just poured down. The roof leaked for the first time. I slept very little and am nodding now. The house looks very untidy, only one side leaked which was fortunate.
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