Easthampton Aug. 20th, 1876 My dear cousin Mary, I have been to the centennial after all, and here I am home again. I didn’t any more expect to go until a few days before I went than any thing in the world; but last Monday Willie, Harry, and I, with other friends, started for the “quaker city” we have had a splendid time. How I do wish that you could have been with us. I never saw any thing so wonderful so will not attempt to describe it, but will leave that for Willie, who has not come back yet: He is expecting to come about Tuesday. The buildings are perfectly enormous the art gallery is far finer than any of the others as it is to remain; it cost over a million dollars, but the statuary and paintings are perfectly beautiful. I think the works of Italy surpass every other country. Same of the W.S. paintings are wonderfully fine the chief trouble with many of them is, I think, that the colors are too bright there is not the richness of coloring which is seen in other countries. It would be difficult to tell which part is the most interesting, but think on the whole I was most interested in the Art gallery. We staid there four days and was in about nine hours a day. I was just tired out when I reached home yesterday. You asked in your letter in regard to Willie’s mustache, whiskers, etc. I have indeed taken a sisterly interest in them; they have been pulled etc. about every day, much to their owner’s torment, but he has bourne it like a martyr. He now wears a “winter killed” mustache and says he has concluded to let his whiskers grow. I presume it is because it is too much trouble to shave. I think it one of the blessings of our sex that we are not obliged to shave. You are probably thrilling Forest Grove with admiration by your fine voice. I wish I could hear you sing. Willie has learned me one or two of your favorite pieces. In a little more than a week I shall leave home for So. Hadley and if successful take up my abode for a year at least. Please direct your letters to E.H. next time and they will be forwarded to me. Please tell Horace I am waiting for a letter from him as I have written two to his one. You needn’t worry lest I shall make W[illie] like the East so much that he will not want to go back. There is not the least danger, I hate to think of his going away. I do just hope you will write very soon though I know you must be very busy but I do want to be more acquainted with you if you can’t read this letter, burn it up. Did Horace get those pressed flowers all right? Your loving Cousin, Sarah E. Lyman [On the left hand side of the first page:] I want your picture most dreadfully

Easthampton Aug. 20th, 1876

My dear cousin Mary,

I have been to the centennial after all, and here I am home again. I didn’t any more expect to go until a few days before I went than any thing in the world; but last Monday Willie, Harry, and I, with other friends, started for the “quaker city” we have had a splendid time. How I do wish that you could have been with us. I never saw any thing so wonderful so will not attempt to describe it, but will leave that for Willie, who has not come back yet: He is expecting to come about Tuesday. The buildings are perfectly enormous the art gallery is far finer than any of the others as it is to remain; it cost over a million dollars, but the statuary and paintings are perfectly beautiful. I think the works of Italy surpass every other country. Same of the W.S. paintings are wonderfully fine the chief trouble with many of them is, I think, that the colors are too bright there is not the richness of coloring which is seen in other countries.

It would be difficult to tell which part is the most interesting, but think on the whole I was most interested in the Art gallery. We staid there four days and was in about nine hours a day. I was just tired out when I reached home yesterday.

You asked in your letter in regard to Willie’s mustache, whiskers, etc. I have indeed taken a sisterly interest in them; they have been pulled etc. about every day, much to their owner’s torment, but he has bourne it like a martyr. He now wears a “winter killed” mustache and says he has concluded to let his whiskers grow. I presume it is because it is too much trouble to shave. I think it one of the blessings of our sex that we are not obliged to shave.

You are probably thrilling Forest Grove with admiration by your fine voice. I wish I could hear you sing. Willie has learned me one or two of your favorite pieces. In a little more than a week I shall leave home for So. Hadley and if successful take up my abode for a year at least.

Please direct your letters to E.H. next time and they will be forwarded to me. Please tell Horace I am waiting for a letter from him as I have written two to his one. You needn’t worry lest I shall make W[illie] like the East so much that he will not want to go back. There is not the least danger, I hate to think of his going away.

I do just hope you will write very soon though I know you must be very busy but I do want to be more acquainted with you if you can’t read this letter, burn it up.

Did Horace get those pressed flowers all right?

Your loving Cousin,
Sarah E. Lyman

[On the left hand side of the first page:]
I want your picture most dreadfully

Part of Letter from Sarah E. Lyman on the Quaker city and Willie