Weedon, Hamilton M., Letters (1864-1865)

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Eufaula    Nov. 19th 1864 

Dear Mollie 

It is a miserably, dark, rainy Saturday 
night, and I am alone, thank gracious. The good people 
of Eufaula must have all retired for I have not heard 
a foot fall on the side walk for over an hour. 
Silence reigns supreme save the occasional popping 
of the fire, and the monotonous dripping of the water 
in the gutter. I like the stillness because it serves 
my purpose. I have said I was alone, but beg pardon, 
- not quite alone. I have two companions, my segar - 
not a pipe this time - and a little bluish-grey eyed 
person (imaginary). For the last hour or two I have 
been puffing my segar and talking to the little 
person as though she were present, trying to tell 
her how much I love her, though I know it 
cant be told. I took the little hymn book, hallowed 
by her touch, looked a long time at the name in it 
then at the little dried geranium leaf, wondering 
who gave it, and read several hymns. I 
intend to read it quite regularly hereafter, and 
probably by your return will have read it through. 
It may cause the confession of a sinner. Who 
knows. 

I called on Miss Addie last night and 
stayed till ten o'clock, talking of you most of the 


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time. She is a dear, good person, and a great 
friend of ours. She expects a letter from you 
Tuesday. I hope she will not be disappointed 
because I expect you to send me some message. 
She and Miss Ada rode horseback yesterday 
evening and I knew nothing of it till night 
when I became exceedingly mouthy and said 
several words that somebody might have 
considered "bad". Miss Addie said she 
would write to you that I was very much 
smitten with a Miss Pain from Macon. You 
wont believe it will you? When you hear 
that a pain has smote me, take it for granted 
that it is the rheumatism or neuralgia. 
It is very late and my dim tallow candle is 
burning very low  but before I tell you good 
night, promise, if you find anything objectionable 
in the letter to burn it and let me know. 
I will not ask you to answer it, because I know 
if you think anything of me, or if you have 
not promised your parents not to, you will 
write me. 

Good night. I love you dearly. 
H M Weedon

I hope you will say a little prayer for me tomorrow. 
Don't you want to say one for me? 
H.M.W.