Letter from Horace Sumner Lyman on land claims, his sister teaching, future plans, finances, and rain

To the People;

Especially Father

Whom I am anticipating great pleasure in seeing at Astoria some three weeks hence. I have rather been looking for a letter from you, telling a little more about the results of your East-of-the-[?] campaign, as to which I am in a state of blissful ignorance. I heard a little about the man jumping W’s claim, but whether my land was still in good condition, all there, I have not learned. Sarah says that you are well, for which I am glad. Did you do anything with the maple seeds that I had Henry send? I did not say anything about them since you were not going just as I came away. I forgot it, if you did nothing with them, we might plant a lot in our garden, so as to save them.

How about White Salmon, claims for H. and M. and yourself etc. etc. etc.? I ate a hearty breakfast this morning, the first for many months. I hope to get a little flesh now. What is W. doing or going to to this summer? Has he lit out, or is he hanging around the house?

I have four weeks more of school. [?][?] has dropped, or is just ready to drop, like a ripe apple into my hand

Your letters V. and M. of the 6th arrived duly on the following Thursday. I may say that I was gratified at seeing but not satisfied with reading them. Is this all? was the cry that forced itself from my lips when I had read the last word. You are in luck my little Clackeyed sister, $40 X 9 = $360; or is it X 12 = 480? At any rate it will be enough to keep you in ribbons and we shall have you off from our hands. I rejoice with you. Make the children love you which you can do by loving them. The thing that will bother you most will be keeping all the members of each class level, or together. One will go a little faster, and two will go a little slower, and first thing you know the class will be all split into fragments. The slow must be urged, the fast must spend their extra strength in extra thoroughness, not in speed. I have no doubt but you will make a success of it. And though I speak mercenarily of the $360, yet I consider the chance you have to apply your education usefully, the greater reward. When I come home beneath the [?] July [?], then will I harness the animal, whirl away to the door of the [?] School, pluck you from among the dusty tomes of your charges, and on smoking wheels startle the summer [?] of the plains.

I wish that that man Anderson would hurry up and write. I think I know what the old fellow’s up to. He wants to save me for a while so if he should not get a better one he would have some one to fall back upon. I guess that I will write again. I am in a little of a quandry what to do if A. does not employ me. If I go East to [?] I think I shall go to Oberlin first, anyhow. Oakland is rather a one-horse institution, as I think I have said before. True, it would take about all the money I have to go to Oberlin but I think I could manage it. I should be likely to get something to do in vacation. I suspect that uncle [Lauren?] could give me a job of milking, and if I acquitted myself well the first year, and seemed to be capable of teaching, I should be likely to get such a job to help me through the second year, anyhow. Oberlin is said to have an excellent religious atmosphere.

You had better pitch into Dr Herrick to buy our place. Though the old home is a tolerably dear one, it would be better to sell it and live in a small house, pay our debts, and be more free. If we sold it for $3500; we should have a thousand or so that might be put to interest, which would be a little something to fall back upon. W’s salary being $9,000, and Mary making quite a respectable little sum, and Father being morally sure of doing something to pay for his salt, and Sarah well enough to keep home, or teach drawing, and I big enough to take care of myself, I guess that we shall go along without running aground. So cheer up those down-trodden. Thy dew shall be as the dew of herbs.

You must be very careful Mary not to overdo. Let the housework take care of itself if necessary.

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle; drip, drip, drip; splash, splash, splash.

Thus without stopping the rain it keeps dropping night after night and day after day. I went over to the beach in the deep twilight last night. The tide was low. A small shower was [?] the north down the western horizon, until it impinged upon Tillamook. All the sky was gray and dull, the sea was deep blue—a color it seldom shows under a cloudy sky. There was no wind and the breakers fell in slow measured beats.

It is raining now.

Good Bye. I say the word in pain.