Page:The Life and Letters of Emily Dickinson (1924).pdf/81

Rh Friday Noon

I regret to inform you that at three o'clock yesterday my mind came to a stand, and has since then been stationary Ere this intelligence reaches you I shall probably be a snail. By this untoward Providence a mental and moral being has been swept ruthlessly from her sphere. But we should not repine—"God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform," and if it be his will that I become a bear and bite my fellow men, it will be for the highest good of this fallen and famishing world. If the gentleman in the air will please stop throwing snowballs, I may meet you again. Otherwise it is uncertain. My parents are pretty well. General Wolf is here. We are looking for Major Pitcairn in the afternoon stage. We were much afflicted yesterday by the supposed removal of our cat from time to eternity. She returned however last evening, having been detained by the storm beyond her expectations.

We need some paths up our way, shan't you be out with the team? Yours till death

The stately old barn was an equine palatial structure, sheltering horses, cows, pigs, hens, and pigeons, with wings for musty carriage houses, and leaning ramparts of loft where swallows darted and doves eternally gurgled. The animal traffic out there had a charm for Emily, and her wit often pranked with its daily round. Wanting her nephew once to the rescue she sends this:

Her Christmas offering of iced plum cake and candy was once sent in the afternoon and with it this apology: