Bleak House,

Jan 1st, 1903

Mina! Mina!! Mina!!! Dear Mina!!!! ‘What has you been a-doing?’ "Didn’t I know you were married?" Well, I should say not! Didn’t I get your letter? Never a wurrd - my angel - did I get. It was my turn to write wasn’t it? If you wrote me and told me what was "gwine" to happen you must have written to Blenheim after I left there, for I never received your letter that’s certain. I have been in Ingersoll since last Midsummer, and have been so busy I have hardly written more than two letters all fall, besides my weekly remittance to my brother at R.M.C. But I was thinking of you, and planning to write as soon as a lull came, but I certainly cannot wait for a lull after the bomb you threw into my camp yesterday. Mina married! And what is to become of that lovely handsome Knox collegian, Mr. _____? And the other one who used to call at 56. Was that Mr. Smith? Oh! I could tear my hair what a lovely letter from you I must have missed.

"Mrs. (Rev.) T. Smith, Johnson, Ont." How funny it looks. I didn’t think two days ago I should be writing to such an address. Of course it must be the Reverend. It will take the best there is for Mina, and I can tell without looking at him that although I know he must be an awfully fine fellow he isn’t more that half as good as you, dear. How I would love to peep into your nest this minute - at just 20 minutes to six, p.m. New Years day. Should I find you at home? Is it a log cabin in the woods Mina? That was your dream, you know. Now I know you are going to forgive me for not having written to let you know my change of address, and you are going to tell me everything like a dear - and if I ever should be "luggy" enough to find an "affinity" I will tell you all about it in return. But before I open the question drawer I shall stop to wish you and Himself a very very happy New Year, which shall last forever and ever and ever. No one ever deserved a happy marriage better I am sure, and if prayers of mine avail on high, you shall have their humble aid, to be sure.

And so Miss Bell-Smith was right in her surmise that you would be the first to leave the teaching profession. I wonder if any of the others are married too? I haven’t written any of them since last spring. I was going to write congratulations to Miss Currie on passing but when the lists came out I didn’t know where to address her. If you know her address would you mind letting me have it?

And now I hope you will not think me impertinent if I ask a great many questions. Perhaps I hadn’t better though, for you will probably tell me any way. I want to know what He looks like, of course, and all about Him, and about your wedding, and your new home, and your work in Johnson. You were born to be a minister’s wife, I always thought so. You will teach in Sunday School, and look after the Y.P.S. - C.E., and the church will presently swear by their minister’s wife - oh, I get pardon, I meant that they would - you know what I meant. (You see I never was cut out for a minister’s wife so I say naughty things continually).

Well, dear Mina, I am ever so glad for you. Doesn’t it seem strange to be getting congratulations so late in the day? I suppose you have been thinking me the biggest kind of Boer for never having acknowledged your letter. I am awfully sorry. I don’t think I’m getting lazy for there always are three things for me to do every time I expect to have a minute. Well, I must make up for lost time by telling you what I’ve been doing all these months. I forget when I wrote last but I think it must have been soon after I went to Blenheim, for I did write four or five letters then, descriptive of my new surroundings. I liked my work there splendidly. I didn’t get very much acquainted and spent my time when off duty in planning my school work, sewing, or sometimes going on bicycle excursions. I had one lovely week about the twenty-fourth of May, when I went to Ridgetown to Teachers Institute, and stayed with a "rich relation" there, and met some delightful people. I was there five days and lost a fraction of my heart to a cousin "Earle Youngs", an awfully handsome lad in a bank. Nothing at all serious, however.

In the holidays I spent my leisure time preparing a series of Geography Lessons for my next Entrance Class, to consist of visits to famous cities in the old world. I studied four or five books and then the principal of the Ingersoll Public School, and my old Model School Master, sent for me and told me there were to be some vacancies in his staff, and to apply. I didn’t want to, but he finally persuaded me. So I did, putting the salary above what I was getting, and above what I thought they would give. To my surprise my offer was accepted. Then I was in an awful way. I had just got news of the splendid success of my class of Entrants, every member of the class (18 in number) passing, and one taking the highest marks in the country while the whole average of the class was 6% higher than that of any other school in the country. I was so pleased and encouraged. I hated to give it up, and most of all I hated giving up my Kind Inspector for the "Old Satan" who makes the lives of Oxford county teachers unbearable. I hated too to give up my pretty, bright schoolroom for the dingy, ugly ones of the I.P.S.. But the salary was $25 higher, and being at home was worth a good deal, so after a struggle I sent a resignation to Blenheim. I have almost regretted it a dozen times. The school is far harder, and the work not so interesting. I have had to work terribly hard all term and in the end my pupils did poorly, as I knew from the first they would. They were not fit for my room in the first place. But badly as they did, the pupils of the teacher next below me did worst. Only 14 of 56 of hers passed into my room, but so many passed into hers, that to balance the boat I will have to take about 40 of her failures. And the beauty of it is if I can’t promote them next summer I’ll be swamped. Isn’t that a cheerful prospect? It made me feel pretty blue at the first of the holidays, but I’ve been so busy having a good time since I’ve hardly given my troubles a thought.

At the end of midsummer vacation I went up to Orillia for a couple of weeks. I had a glorious time. My friends were awfully good to me, giving me parties and taking me on excursions. They did something every day. Mr. Shire, my friend’s brother, was awfully kind as he always is. He used to be a photographer (and a good one too) and when we would go anywhere he would always provide a souvenir. Sometimes they would be a little booklet of birch bark gathered from the trees at Geneva, or wherever we had been. Everyone would write a verse in them and Mr. S. would decorate the cover with a view of the spot. Before I came away he took a couple of snaps at me, and since you are married and I must make peace with you, I guess I’ll have to fulfill my promise and send you one to keep house with. They are very good, I think.

I have often thought this fall of the Normal term and you girls. I would say "A year ago today I sprained my ankle", or "A year ago today was ‘The Professor’s Love Story’ or ‘The Knox At Home’". What fun we managed to have with all our hard work. I have only been to a play twice since; once at Ridgetown in the summer, and once this fall when I went with a party of Ingersoll friends up to Woodstock to hear "The Princess Chic". I wish I could describe it for you, but other more recent events have prior claim. I have been to some good concerts, the best being a concert given by Jessie McLachlan. Have you ever heard her? She was grand. She sang "The Holy City", "Rule Britannia", "Blue Bonnets Over the Border", "The Hundred Pipers", "The Bonnie Brier Bush:, "Red Rowans", "The Last Rose of Summer", "Rory O’More", "The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomon" and two Gaelic songs. I scarcely know which I liked best. All were perfection. She is a very dramatic singer and though she made almost no gestures, by a lift of her brow, or a turn of her head or the very poise of her body she made you see - oh every thing! When she sang ‘Rule Britannia" she looked like the very impersonation of Britannia, so regal was she. And in "The Hundred Pipers" you fairly laughed with pure glee as she pictured The English "rinnin awa frae the hun’ert pipers". She simply carried you out of yourself in the spirit of the song. She was magnificent. It was the best concert I ever heard. Even the Westminster Choir was not more enjoyable. I know you would love it.

I have had a pleasant time this fall out of school hours, for I board with my cousins where I used to board when I went to school. It is just like home, and I go home (4 miles out) from Friday to Mon.. I meet such nice people and live like a Lord - or a Lady - on the fat of the land. My cousins have a lovely home.

Well now I must tell you about the brightest spot in the whole year - this Christmas holidays. To begin with, Howard came home Sat. night (Dec. 20) and we sat up most of the night talking and admiring his new glories of gold braid (for he is an officer this year, and wears silk sashes and swords and sleeve and collar decorations and fur galore). He brought some nice things for us from Kingston. Monday some friends came in for the evening. Tuesday we all went to a party. Wednesday I made candy all day, French creams, stuffed dates, chocolate creams, cocoa nut creams, maple creams with chopped nuts in and fudge with nuts in, 12 lbs in all. (And they’re nearly all gone already). Then came Xmas, the best day of all. We spent the day quietly at home, eating and talking but we always spend Xmas night at Elgin Hall the "Family Seat".

This year Cousin Bertha (the mistress of Elgin Hall) had told us they were expecting some American cousins to help celebrate. There are usually 50 of our own crowd but this year Bertha imported 50 more from the States, so the house was well filled. It is a lovely house and very large, larger than ours which is considered a very large house, and it was well filled when the clan gathered. The Bodwells are a tremendously large family. Our first Canadian ancestor, Captain James Bodwell came over from the States about a hundred years ago and his descendants are so many that not half of them know each other. Until within the last twenty years they had a yearly picnic at which between three or four hundred gathered, but there were so many that it became like a meeting of strangers and each clique kept together so the picnics were dropped about the time I came on the scene.

Great Grandfather Bodwell had four sons and eight daughters who all had good sized families. The gathering at Elgin Hall consisted of most of the descendants of the four sons, but there were a great many even of their descendants who though invited could not come. Guests came from Chicago, Grand Rapids and Ludington, Mich., Erie and Bradford, Penn., Buffalo, Toronto and London and other Canadian towns. This Xmas these descendants of the Bodwell sons organized into a society with the object of keeping in touch with one another. The funds of the society are to be used in the quarterly publication of a paper containing items of family news. Besides the family to select some central summer resort and as many as possible meet there for a few weeks every summer. Won’t that be fine.

Well it was amazing how soon we got acquainted with all the strangers. Father knew most of the older ones and he introduced us to them and they brought up their families in turn. Everyone kissed at meeting, except a few of the young men, who merely shook hands, of course, but everyone began at once the use of the first name. Pretty girls put their arms around you and said "Come with us, Ethel," and as you passed beneath the mistletoe, which hung from every chandelier and nearly every door, some tall, handsome youth would spring to bestow a cousinly salute upon you. You felt your spirits leaping up to quite an abnormal height. Presently someone began to call the Codys together in the drawing room. They gathered there about forty strong. (The Codys are descended from two of the daughters of one of the four Bodwell sons, who married brothers. The Codys are cousins of the famous "Buffalo Bill"). As soon as they were all assembled they favored the company with The Cody Yell - which went as follows:

Rickety, rackety, rickety, roo!

Merry Xmas, 1902

Who are we? Who are you??

We are Codys - right straight through.

Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah!

Bodwells!!!

Whereupon the Bodwells assembled is the library and practiced a rival yell. When we were ready we all trooped back into the hall and retorted with

Ding dong! Xmas Bell!

"Wah! Wah!" Codys yell,

But they’re only sprouts

Of a Bodwell!

Of course the Codys tried to drown us out and for a while things were pretty lively. Then the second supper table was ready. The dining room seats 57 at once and leaves plenty of room for waiters. The whole house was beautifully decorated with ropes of evergreens, holly, mistletoe, flags, Xmas bells, etc. In the east parlor in the centre of the large centre table was a huge basket of beautiful apples, and around it were arranged close rows of alternate red and green apples. From the ceiling came four ropes of cedar to the four corners of the table, and a lamp hung in the middle. It was very effective. One of the Americans, Harold Cody, had the nerve to ask from which of the United States they imported their apples, for which he was promptly turned down by the nearest Canadian.

After supper an emormous Xmas tree was unburdened. Then some Xmas duets were sung by Harold and Gail Cody of Erie, Pa.. Then we were summoned to the dining room where a stage had been erected, curtains hung and seats arranged. Here were given a series of exquisite tableaux by the Toronto contingent. Sorry I haven’t the time to describe, but Oswald is going to down in a few minutes and I must hasten. No pains in costuming nor providing accessories had been spared to make them a success and I never saw anything prettier on the stage. The tableaux represented the contents of a magazine, including advertisements and at the end a series of photographs of the tableaux taken at a rehearsal in Toronto, and tied together with ribbon were presented to the heads of various families present. Then a specially composed-for-the-occasion Bodwell-Cody Glee was sung to the tune of Jingle Bells. Then Cousin Jared Bodwell made a very affecting speech and everyone stood to sing "God Be With You" and about one o’clock the party broke up. It was a night to remember all our lives. We made such nice friendships. We especially liked Gail and Harold Cody and their father and mother and Cousin Jared Bodwell’s family. Gail is awfully pretty. Harold is handsome and audacious. The father looks exactly like recent portraits of King Edward, and their mother is one’s ideal of a "dowager duchess", handsome, gracious in manner and all. Cousin Jared looks like Goodness personified, and his wife who was a Bodwell before she was married is one of those jolly, motherly women who make you glad you are alive. They have an interesting family of four. Bert the eldest is a big six foot two-hundred pounder, every lb. being made of mischief and mother wit. He is the life of every party of which he is a member. Then comes handsome, quiet intellectual-looking Devere, to whom I lost another fraction. Then Cora, the wittiest girl I ever saw, and a graduate of the University of Michigan, and Ada, a sweet girl.

All the young people and some of the old to the number of thirty came down in two big sleighloads to Bleak House by invitation on Monday night. I can’t tell about that for Oswald is ready. I’ll finish again.

Goodbye, write soon, to

Your friend ever,

Ethel S. Bodwell