Jefferson Quotes & Family Letters

Cornelia being now on a visit to Carys-brook, my Dearest Sister, the cares of house-keeping have devolved upon me, with the heavy addition of my being obliged to finish Sidneys trimming in the course of a week, and both together give me scarcely time to sleep & take my meals, but this is Sunday evening, of course I can not sew, & may devote it to you. to day I should have had time to write at length but that we had a party of the students to dine with us. nevertheless I had sufficient leisure before they came to copy the classification of the books for my dear brother as he requested, and of which request I had the first information yesterday from in a letter that Nicholas received; that which he wrote Grand-Papa having, I suppose, miscarried, as it never got here. I am most grateful for the exertions you have both made to get me a good piano, & should ever, dearest Sister, in asking a favour of the kind, have [. . .] fears that you would be too solicitous to please & thereby give yourselves a great deal of trouble. I am delighted at the prospect of getting it in time for this winters practise, & look forward with equal pleasure to hearing you practise on it next Summer. Mama says you need have no fear that the extreme stiffness of your instrument will continue, as her harpsichord for some time after She got it was so stiff that She might have played with nearly as much ease on a brick pavement as on that. She joins you however in the wish that She could assist you in making it a little more supple.—your letters yesterday, one from you to me, two for N. from Joseph, arrived just as we had had a dreadful fright about our dear Grand-father, & assisted more than any thing else could have done in dissipating the disagreeable feelings which still hung over us. a vile plaisterer, who calls himself an adept in the art of making taking likenesses in plaister, came here highly recommended, & prevailed upon on Grand-Papa to submit to that horrible operation of moulding the plaister on his face, & even enclosing the whole head & throat, which seems really like burying alive, however Grand-Papa was too weak to undergo it in the first place, & in the second the man was so very unskilful, that he suffered the clay to get too dry before he removed it, and then not having put oil enough to prevent it’s adherence to the skin, the operation of removing it became one of the most excessively painful that it is possible to imagine, & so slow withal that we expected Grand-Papa to faint from exhaustion before it was completed, and so I still believe he would have done if he had not been induring tortures that [. . .] prevented it, and which wrung from him, patient as he always is in suffering, groans & even hysteric sobs. but inspite of this dreadful operation, with an elasticity of constitution which belongs only to the young, he was sufficiently recovered before dinner time to join us [. . .] at table [. . .] & with his usual cheerful spirits, and to day I have seen no signs of yesterdays pain, ’tho’ he has been somewhat tormented by the chattering of the magpie who occasioned it all, & who has had the impudence to advert to the scene as if it were a fit subject for his jests. Mama is never provoked to hurt the feelings of others by harsh speeches, but Mary & myself in the terror which possessed us told Mr. Browere so many plain truths that if it was not so convenient to for him to stay some days longer he would have gone off, I think, without unnecessary delay. to day he begun a view of the University & amused himself by caricaturing such of us as could be teazed into setting long enough. Mama, Nicholas & some of the boys allowed him to try his hand in cutting their profiles.

The family at Tufton are gradually recovering from their different indispositions, & brother Jeff is able to visit his plantations, again, on horseback. Maria Carr,s health seems still very bad, and they think may probably be benefitted by travelling, which has determined them to return to Baltimore next week. D.C. will come on immediately to be married, & return with [. . .] his bride, his Sisters, & Sarah. [. . .] Mrs. Carr & Jane Margaret went [. . .] a fortnight ago. Sister Jane has been put to great in convenience by the sickness of her servants, & amongst others her nurse, whose place Margaret & Patsy have been obliged to supply, fortunately Ellen is so good that they can amuse & keep her out of mischief. they tell her a great many stories about Aunt Coolidge, & Boston, & she has her head so full of them that she has been planning a visit to you; which she says little William Page & herself are going in the gig to see Aunt ‘toolidge’ who will be playing on the piano when she gets they arrive. She is a sweet pretty little creature, & is complete tyrant of the family. here I must recant my hasty judgement passed on your god daughter at Carys-brook; the child has become quite well bred, and is very pretty still. it is true that her voice is rendered [. . .] unpleasant by a swelling in her throat, & that She is rather deaf, but not I think deficient in intellect as we once thought. it is bed time, and my eyes are winking so that I can scarcely see what I write, therefore I must bid you adieu for the present, hoping that my next letter may be better worth sending so great a distance than this is. of course you have heard all about Cousin Anns marriage from herself, but I believe none of us have written since the death of poor Meade, an event which I believe has been the most fortunate that ever befel him. give my dear love to Mr. Coolidge, and believe me dearest Sister, as ever your own devoted