Sparta May 9, 1854

Sweet Mary,

I have before me your last letter, a welcome messenger, indeed. I shall omit recitation tonight in order to commune with you. I am truly sorrow that you gave up the idea of going to Bethlehem last Sunday. Had you gone, I would, perhaps, have enjoyed the extreme pleasure of speaking that which I may write, and many things which I will not think of. I need not mention the pleasure - the perfect bliss I might almost say, of looking upon your angelic features if you had gone. It is difficult to realize the amount of unexpected joy it would have produced in my mind. But there is one consolation, and that is, all these pleasures and many others are in store for me, I fondly trust. Hasten the time when I can embrace you and call you mine.

Did you say fourth day of July? Perhaps, you want the celebration of our marriage a part of the excercises of that memorable day. Huh? Say yourself. "The quicker the sooner" with me. Bank officers have nothing to do then you know.

Mr. Crutcher, of this place, was married to Miss McKinney on last Thursday. Capt. Mitchell gave a party Friday night in honor of the married couple. There was a general turn out of the young folks. I had the honor of accompanying Miss Eliza Snodgrass. A very amiable girl. I hope, if you are not already acquainted with her, you will be when you come to live at Sparta. She insisted that I should call on her which I promised to do, of course. I shall tell her that it is all for pasttime. Let me not deceive.

Mr. Young has not moved over yet. I am still boarding with Mr. Anderson. I do not know where I shall go when he moves. Perhaps I shall stay with Mr. Young.

I think I am doing pretty well studying. I have read nearly two books of "Blackstone". I have to confine myself very closely to progress much.

I shall not write much more as the main design is to get you to write again. Do not, as you said you would, wait as long as I did before answering your other letter. I will only annex a few verses that I scribbled down for you several weeks since

Dear Mary lovliest sweetest best 
To you these verses are addressed 
Think not dear Miss in them to find 
One thing t' inform or please the mind.

No tale of wonder they will tell
Of events rare - of good or ill 
No news from foreign lands they bear 
Of Turks and Russians' bloody war.

As birds delight to sing and coo 
Their feathered mates to win and woo 
May this my song to Mary prove 
A token of heart's purest love. 

My song of love is simply given 
I pray for you the smiles of Heaven 
Sweet Mary I must say farewell 
And sign my name

Your Willie Hill

P.S. Shall I hereafter direct my letters to you instead of your father? For my part I don't care who knows that we are corresponding. How is it with you?


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Transcription used with permission of Charles Massey.

Archivists:
Transcription by Charles Massey.
Image by G. Anne Sloan