not want a life of bread and water and stones.
When she’d first been with Henry, they had been disciples of Graham, who advocated loose clothing, cold rooms, lots of exercise, whole grains and avoiding meat and fats. He also advocated sex no more than twelve times a year. They had not stayed on Graham’s program long. The porridge and whey routine had gone out the window, but she retained her belief in fresh air, exercise and loose clothing. She had worn the bloomer costume for two years, but she found that no one could hear what she was saying for the commotion a woman wearing pants seemed to cause. Reluctantly she abandoned its comfort.
When this draft was finished, Susan would transcribe it, for no one else could read her handwriting. She’d developed a terrible handwriting early, perhaps to keep her diary a secret from her stern mother. Or perhaps it had always been that her mind leapt ahead and her hand ran raggedly after to try to capture her thoughts. She scrawled and rushed on with that same feeling she used to have on horseback, a sense of being fast as the wind and conquering distance; that was all she could do to change the world so far. So quickly she wrote on.
FOUR
A NTHONY LEANED FORWARD, placing his hands on his knees and peering into Edward’s face. “My mother was the purest soul I’ve ever known. She was a saint, Edward. Losing her when I was a boy of ten is something I’ve never gotten over and never shall. But while she lived, she taught me to be a true Christian.”
“I’m sure she was a remarkable woman, my friend. But the roles open to a young man in Manhattan are a far cry from the world of a ten-year-old on a farm in Connecticut. What did your mother know about living in a great metropolis?”
“Here are more temptations, more sinners and more ways to sin. But the way to live righteously is exactly the same.” Anthony found the city frightening at times, but he never imagined returning to rural poverty. Hemust make his way here or not at all. They both stopped talking to watch a four-in-hand pass with matched horses, some rich guy off to an important appointment. The coachman in front and the footman standing on the back of the carriage wore livery of red and blue.
“There’s the good life.” Edward knocked his pipe out on the edge of the stoop where they were eating bread and cheese for lunch. Anthony thought smoking a filthy habit that could lead into temptation, for some of the so-called tobacco shops in lower Manhattan had a bevy of prostitutes on call or available in the back room, as he’d learned when Edward stopped for pipe tobacco. “Sometimes I feel you just don’t see what life offers, Tony—may I call you that?”
“Don’t. I like my own name. It’s more dignified.” No one had called him Tony since his mother died. It was too intimate for anyone else to use. “Life offers chances to sin, but they’re only useful to build your strength of character by resisting.” Perhaps it was futile to try to save Edward, but Anthony could not give up. Edward reminded him of his own brother Samuel, who had perished tragically of wounds received at Gettysburg on Barlow’s Knoll. Samuel had died slowly and in great pain over the course of a week, although Anthony had prayed for him day and night. Anthony had enlisted in the Fifteenth Connecticut Infantry to replace his brother. Because of Samuel, Anthony could not stop trying to reach Edward. Edward was his only friend so far in this strange city.
“Anthony, you’re twenty-four, right? Have you ever had a woman?”
“Had? You mean in the carnal sense?”
“Is there another way to have a woman?”
“Of course I haven’t. Purity is not only for women.”
“You’ll make some woman a good husband. If you ever get close enough to one to marry her.” Edward winked at him.
“But on what we earn, when can we think about marriage? Twelve dollars a week. Out of that we pay room and board, our clothing,
When she’d first been with Henry, they had been disciples of Graham, who advocated loose clothing, cold rooms, lots of exercise, whole grains and avoiding meat and fats. He also advocated sex no more than twelve times a year. They had not stayed on Graham’s program long. The porridge and whey routine had gone out the window, but she retained her belief in fresh air, exercise and loose clothing. She had worn the bloomer costume for two years, but she found that no one could hear what she was saying for the commotion a woman wearing pants seemed to cause. Reluctantly she abandoned its comfort.
When this draft was finished, Susan would transcribe it, for no one else could read her handwriting. She’d developed a terrible handwriting early, perhaps to keep her diary a secret from her stern mother. Or perhaps it had always been that her mind leapt ahead and her hand ran raggedly after to try to capture her thoughts. She scrawled and rushed on with that same feeling she used to have on horseback, a sense of being fast as the wind and conquering distance; that was all she could do to change the world so far. So quickly she wrote on.
FOUR
A NTHONY LEANED FORWARD, placing his hands on his knees and peering into Edward’s face. “My mother was the purest soul I’ve ever known. She was a saint, Edward. Losing her when I was a boy of ten is something I’ve never gotten over and never shall. But while she lived, she taught me to be a true Christian.”
“I’m sure she was a remarkable woman, my friend. But the roles open to a young man in Manhattan are a far cry from the world of a ten-year-old on a farm in Connecticut. What did your mother know about living in a great metropolis?”
“Here are more temptations, more sinners and more ways to sin. But the way to live righteously is exactly the same.” Anthony found the city frightening at times, but he never imagined returning to rural poverty. Hemust make his way here or not at all. They both stopped talking to watch a four-in-hand pass with matched horses, some rich guy off to an important appointment. The coachman in front and the footman standing on the back of the carriage wore livery of red and blue.
“There’s the good life.” Edward knocked his pipe out on the edge of the stoop where they were eating bread and cheese for lunch. Anthony thought smoking a filthy habit that could lead into temptation, for some of the so-called tobacco shops in lower Manhattan had a bevy of prostitutes on call or available in the back room, as he’d learned when Edward stopped for pipe tobacco. “Sometimes I feel you just don’t see what life offers, Tony—may I call you that?”
“Don’t. I like my own name. It’s more dignified.” No one had called him Tony since his mother died. It was too intimate for anyone else to use. “Life offers chances to sin, but they’re only useful to build your strength of character by resisting.” Perhaps it was futile to try to save Edward, but Anthony could not give up. Edward reminded him of his own brother Samuel, who had perished tragically of wounds received at Gettysburg on Barlow’s Knoll. Samuel had died slowly and in great pain over the course of a week, although Anthony had prayed for him day and night. Anthony had enlisted in the Fifteenth Connecticut Infantry to replace his brother. Because of Samuel, Anthony could not stop trying to reach Edward. Edward was his only friend so far in this strange city.
“Anthony, you’re twenty-four, right? Have you ever had a woman?”
“Had? You mean in the carnal sense?”
“Is there another way to have a woman?”
“Of course I haven’t. Purity is not only for women.”
“You’ll make some woman a good husband. If you ever get close enough to one to marry her.” Edward winked at him.
“But on what we earn, when can we think about marriage? Twelve dollars a week. Out of that we pay room and board, our clothing,
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