A Wagner Letter With Weather and Woe
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I’m finally back from my weeks away up north, but only by a few hours and a column deadline waits for me immediately. So, it’s a Wagner Week for the Wagner fans out there! I’m eternally grateful to the Wagner letter writers for all they’ve done for me (without their permission and surely against their ghostly will) in terms of last-minute column material.
I’m still very much on an Elma Coleman Meek kick. She’s the Oxford society girl who came up with the nickname “Ole Miss.” Later, William Faulkner and his wife Estelle lived as boarders in a part of Elma’s house. He wrote As I Lay Dying and A Rose for Emily there. I wonder if Elma is Emily? I know it’s time to move on from the Elma letters, but I just can’t yet. Elma would likely be equally annoyed and unsurprised that I am obsessed with her.
In this letter, everyone seems to be going to the dentist. Can you imagine being a dentist in 1905? I surely can’t!
Oxford
Wednesday, Jan. 12, 1905
Dear George,
Since I’m supposed to be upstairs and in a dying condition, I don’t suppose it will be quite proper for me to write you a long letter. “David” came in the sitting room just now, and I heard Mama telling how ill I am. Was at the dentist this morning, so I haven’t felt very well since. And that, with this miserable weather, it’s enough to kill anybody. Tonight we are having one of those rains like we had Xmas week, not to mention these other rainy days.
You could’ve come up Sunday night just as easy as not, since Miss B. had a previous engagement and couldn’t come—but I did not know it until late Sunday afternoon. Then I had a slight headache besides.
By the way, you said you only had two things to ask me, so from now on you can’t say a word to me. But I’ll tell you right now, you needn’t think I’m going to tell you how much I weigh.
There was a dance in town last Friday night, but I didn’t know anything about it until about 9 o’clock that night. Owen has entered society again, so maybe I’ll keep up better and will try to let you know about the dances so you can come. Had an invitation to a ball in C-dale today, also a letter from Lela wanting to come over there. She mentioned something Binford said, so I guess he is still alive, if not doing well.
The next time you come here, if you still have that ridiculous little book I sent you last summer, I wish you would bring it. I might want to add some “Jimmy” pictures. But really, Mrs. Ferrell wants to find one and wants to see that one. She spent the day here again today, but just left the dentist and getting soaking wet in the rain—and a few other things. I saw very little of her.
Well, if you don’t get washed away, I shall expect you sometime soon.
Sincerely yours,
Elma CM

