Writings by Susan Dickinson

close-up | previous page | next page | note | essay index | search | main index

H bMS Am 1118.95, Box 9


a frame he would suggest - "just a bite
of anything" - but the morning looked
down on the mangled remains of more
than one pie, rashers of cold meat
removed from sight, with tea and cakes
unnamable - He came very late and
went with the dawn - He was a ranting
abolitionist and if not asleep in the
dim watches, he read with great zest
a Free Girl[?] newspaper, that crackled
like the fires at Smithfield about the
martyrs upon the bed, who If he was so
unlucky as to raise an eye-lid he was
attacked with argument most irrit...
in such cases, unanswerable - He is
dead[?] and must know not now, that he
did not even do as well as he could -
At last a bright fellow found him with the
charge of sleeping at his post, he having suffered
for ice as he vainly attempted to rouse him
at midnight - gradually he was unsought
as a nurse although it seemed as much of
a shock to the villagers Grove[?] as an expressed
doubt of the village doctor's sovereign will[?].

close-up | previous page | next page | note | essay index | search | main index

Writings by Susan Dickinson Main Page
Image reproduced by permission of the Houghton Library, Harvard University.
Not to be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
Transcription and commentary copyright 1998 by Martha Nell Smith,
Laura Elyn Lauth, and Lara Vetter, all rights reserved
Maintained by Rebecca Mooney  <rnmooney@umd.edu>
Last updated on January 24, 2008

Dickinson Electronic Archives