THE LIBRARIES 
 
 Bequest of 
 
 Frederic Bancroft 
 
 1860-1945 
 
IN THE ALHAMBRA, 1889 
 
SOME LETTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 Monsignor Louis E. Caillet 
 
 AND 
 
 August N. Chemidlin 
 
 1868-1899 
 
 Edited by 
 CLARA HILL LINDLEY 
 
 Printed for private circulation 
 
 St. P&ul, 1P22 
 
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 COPYRIGHTED 1922 
 BY CLARA HILL LINOLEY 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Father Caillet ---------- 3 
 
 Rev. Humiihrey Moynihan, S. T. D. 
 
 August Nicholas Chemidlin ------ 29 
 
 Clara Hill Lin die 7/ 
 
 Letters -------.--__ 39 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 In the Alhambra, 1889 ------- Frontispiece 
 
 Father Caillet ------------- 4 
 
 Mother of Father Caillet ---------- 4 
 
 St. Paul Cathedral ------------ 4 
 
 St. Paul in the 'Fifties ----------- 6 
 
 St. Mary's Church ------------ 22 
 
 August Chemidlin and His Wife ------- 28 
 
 Mary Hill --------------- 32 
 
 Louis and James Hill ----------- 32 
 
 Clara Hill - - - ----- ----- - 32 
 
 Mrs. Prince -------------- 38 
 
 Mrs. Shawe -------------- 38 
 
 John S. Prince ------------- 38 
 
 August Chemidlin ------------ 42 
 
 Charlotte Prince ------------- 44 
 
 Nettie and Mamie Prince ---------- 44 
 
 Fanny Prince -------------- 44 
 
 Emma Prince -------------- 48 
 
 John Prince, Jr. ------------- 48 
 
 The Prince House, Eighth St. ------- - 50 
 
 James Jerome Hill ------------ 64 
 
 Mrs. Hill --------------- 54 
 
 The Hill House (1884) ---------- 60 
 
 Charlotte Hill ------------- 68 
 
 Ruth and Rachel Hill ----------- 68 
 
 L. Caillet --------------- 80 
 
 Gertrude Hill -------------- 92 
 
 Walter Hill -------------- 92 
 
 Grace Prince -------------- 92 
 
 Alice Shawe -------------- 92 
 
 At North Oaks Farm ----------- 94 
 
 Monsignor Louis Caillet ---------- 106 
 
 A. Chemidlin -------------- 116 
 
 Interior St. Mary's Church, 1922 ------- 118 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
FATHER CAILLET. 
 
 Of the early years of Louis Eugene Caillet 
 little is known. He was born in Lyons, Novem- 
 ber 21, 1832, in a home rich in naught save the pi- 
 ety that has given to the world the missionaries of 
 France. How much his mother had to do with 
 shaping the aspirations of his boyhood may be 
 gauged from the very tender affection he always 
 bore her ; the members of his household were famil- 
 iar with the picture that throughout his life held 
 the place of honor on his desk. For a priest of 
 Lyons, chaplain of a Convent, he also entertain- 
 ed an enduring regard, the man who divined the 
 possibilities slumbering in the soul of the youth 
 and kindled them to a flame of holy ardor for the 
 missionary life. With the prudence that was to 
 characterize him all his days, Louis Caillet did not 
 definitely decide to enter the ranks of the priest- 
 hood mitil he had knelt at the feet of the Cure of 
 Ars and heard from his lips words that he regarded 
 as prophetic. He took up his higher studies in a 
 seminary at Lyons, and was quietly pursuing his 
 course there, wondering the while in what land his 
 lot would be cast, when, one day, a priest from 
 America came in search of candidates for the Dio- 
 cese of St. Paul. It was the saintly Father Ra- 
 
 [3] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 voux. He had much to tell the students of life 
 among the Indians, of the quest for lonely settlers 
 in forest and prairie, of the beginnings of religion 
 on the banks of the Mississippi, of the sore need of 
 priests in far-off Minnesota. He told how he him- 
 self had been for seven years in the wilds without 
 a brother priest ; how only three years before Bishop 
 Cretin, on taking possession of his See, was wel- 
 comed with a Te Deum in a little log chapel that 
 was his cathedral ; and how in his whole Diocese — 
 in all the territory between the Mississippi and the 
 Missouri, between the Iowa line on the South and 
 the British border on the North — he had found 
 only one priest. He was calling for men willing 
 to face toil and hardship, and Louis Caillet was 
 one of those who answered the call. With six 
 companions: Felix Tissot of Lyons, Claude 
 Robert of Le Puy, Anatole Oster, George Keller. 
 Francis Hurth, and A^alentine Sommereisen of 
 Strasbourg, he set sail for America. In later 
 years he used to tell with much amusement how 
 Father Ravoux laid down a stringent code of rules 
 and regulations for his charges, and how his plan 
 to establish a miniature seminary on the high seas 
 was sadly upset by the innocent pranks of two of 
 the younger "seminarians" bent on whiling away 
 the tedium of a voyage extending over forty-five 
 days. 
 
 On the afternoon of Friday, June 16, 1854, the 
 future missionaries landed on the wharves of St. 
 
 [ 4 ] 
 
FATHER LOUIS CAILLET 
 Soon offer /m',< Ordination 
 
 MOTHER OF FATHER CAH^LET 
 
 CATHEDRAL OF SALNT PAUL OX SLXTH AND WABASHA STREETS 
 
 Built h\j Bishop Cretin 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 Paul. On reaching the Cathedral they found 
 Bishop Cretin teaching catecliism. The Bishop 
 lost no time in setting them at work. Their first 
 task was to prepare for the procession of the Bles- 
 sed Sacrament around the Cathedral block on the 
 following Sunday, for it was the Sunday within 
 the octave of Corpus Christi. 
 
 A frontier town in the Northwest in 1854 was 
 full of strange interest for the young men fresh 
 from France. Only a few years before, the spot 
 on which St. Paul stood was a wilderness. The 
 little log chapel that Father Galtier had built in 
 1840, the "basilica," as he called it, "so poor that 
 it recalled the stable of Bethlehem," told them how 
 close they still were to the crude beginning of 
 things. And yet, the air was full of forecasts of a 
 wonderful future for the town. Every speech in 
 those days was adorned with a few well-worn lines 
 of Whittier: 
 
 I hear the tread of pioneers 
 
 Of nations j^et to be — 
 
 The first low wash of waves, where soon 
 
 Shall roll a human sea. 
 
 At no distant date the wilderness would blossom 
 like the rose; the Indian lodges around the town 
 would disappear; Atlantic and Pacific would be 
 bound by long slender lines of steel; New Orleans 
 would be brought within reach of St. Anthony. 
 These were the dreams of the settlers of the early 
 fifties. And, indeed, the fame of Minnesota, of its 
 
 [ 5 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 prairies and their mold of a thousand years, of its 
 pineries and primeval forests, of its countless lakes 
 and broad-bosomed rivers, was spreading far and 
 wide, and from East and South families were pour- 
 ing in to seek their fortune in the land of promise. 
 One day the Democrat would announce that "six 
 steamboats arrived yesterday and landed about six 
 hundred passengers." Another day the Minnesota 
 Pioneer would boast that St. Paul was fast donning 
 the aspect of a city: "After dark the lights gleam 
 from the dwellings in multitudinous twinklings like 
 fire-flies in a meadow." But the pages that paint- 
 ed such roseate pictures of St. Paul and augured 
 such a golden future for it, would also record a 
 skirmish between Sioux and Chippewas, ancient 
 enemies, in one of its principal streets. 
 
 Three years of study and preparation for the 
 sacred ministry were passed in the Cathedral Res- 
 idence. It will be recalled that the Cathedral of 
 that day was a composite building of three stories. 
 On the first floor were a parlor, the parish library, 
 a dining-room, a kitchen, and a class room. The 
 second story was given over to the church. On 
 the third story were rooms for the Bishop and the 
 priests, the seminarians' dormitory, study hall, and 
 class rooms. Louis Caillet received his initiation 
 into the simple ways of missionary life when he 
 saw Bishop Cretin sweeping his own room, making 
 his bed, chopping wood, working in the garden, 
 and busy with many other occupations strangely 
 
 [ 6 ] 
 

 en 
 
 X 
 
 H 
 
 < 
 
 en 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 out of keeping with those of an episcopal palace 
 in France. The seminarians, too, were busy with 
 a variety of duties from early morning, when the 
 Bishop roused one of them to serve his Mass, cel- 
 ebrated punctually at five o'clock, until they re- 
 tired at night. Now and again, one or other of 
 them accompanied the Bishop on his trips through 
 the Diocese, sharing the fatigue of the rude roads 
 and the discomfort of log houses. The close of 
 Bishop Cretin's life was clouded with much suffer- 
 ing. During his last long illness Louis Caillet 
 and Felix Tissot were in constant attendance on 
 him, watching by his bed-side, doing all that affec- 
 tion and fidelity could do to soothe his pain and 
 cheer his lonely hours. Father Caillet always re- 
 tained a vivid recollection of the Bishop's resigna- 
 tion during the dreary months of his suffering. 
 "As I cannot work," the Bishop would say, "I at 
 least ought to offer my pains to God for the faith- 
 ful and for all." His efforts, too, to continue his 
 work in spite of constant distress and failing 
 strength were a pathetic memory with those who 
 were with him to the end. 
 
 Bishop Cretin died on the 22nd of February, 
 1857. Bishop Grace was not to succeed him until 
 two years later. For this reason Louis Caillet 
 was ordained priest by Bishop Smith, coadjutor 
 Bishop of Dubuque, on August 21, 1857. He 
 was assigned to the Cathedral, and now and then 
 tasted the hardships of missionary life on the long 
 
 [ 7 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 trips he made among the scattered hamlets on the 
 prairie. As pastor of the Cathedral he ministered 
 quietly and steadily to the spiritual needs of his 
 growing congregation. In 1865 he was commis- 
 sioned by Bishop Grace to organize a new parish 
 to be known as St. Mary's. On Pentecost Sun- 
 day of the following year the corner-stone of the 
 new Church was laid with much ceremony. It 
 was a beautiful afternoon towards the end of May, 
 and all St. Paul turned out for the occasion. The 
 Catholic societies of the Cathedral and Assump- 
 tion parishes, the children who had received the 
 sacrament of Confirmation in the morning, and 
 who now marched singing Canticles in honor of 
 the Blessed Virgin, the acolytes in their scarlet 
 soutanes and spotless surplices (among them was 
 a little boy who was to be the first Bishop of North 
 Dakota, John Shanley), the nuns in their somber 
 garb, the vested priests, and the Bishop with his 
 guard of honor — this Catholic outpouring fifty- 
 six years ago was an unwonted spectacle in a 
 frontier town, and cheered the hearts of the Cath- 
 olic people of St. Paul. The parchment deposit- 
 ed in the corner-stone will come to light again, 
 when the church so auspiciously fomided will be 
 regretfully dismantled. It told how, on May 
 20th, in the year of our Lord 1866, the twentieth 
 of the Pontificate of Pius IX, the seventh of the 
 episcopacy of Thomas Langdon Grace, Andrew 
 Johnson being President of the United States, 
 
 [ 8 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 William R. Marshall Governor of the State of 
 Minnesota, and John S. Prince Mayor of the City 
 of St. Paul, the corner-stone of St. Mary's was 
 solemnly laid by the Bishop of the Diocese, at- 
 tended by the clergy of the city and a large con- 
 course of the faithful. A sermon full of miction 
 and eloquence preached by Bishop Grace brought 
 to a close a day that always lived in the memory 
 of Father Caillet. 
 
 Building a church in the year after the war 
 was no light task. Father Caillet never forgot 
 the generous co-operation given to him by five 
 members of the parish — Messrs. John S. Prince, 
 Philip McQuillan, Bruno Beaupre, Patrick H. 
 Kelly and Patrick Nash. Neither did he ever for- 
 get the sacrifices made by hundreds of his congre- 
 gation, who were always so ready with a moiety 
 of their scanty incomes. On July 28, 1867, to the 
 great joy of priest and people, St. Mary's was 
 dedicated. Father Oster, in the absence of Bish- 
 op Grace, officiated. The sermon was preached 
 by Father Ireland, who took for his text the words 
 "i am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." Father 
 Ireland was, as Archbishop, to preach the sermon 
 at the Silver Jubilee of St. Mary's, and again at 
 its Golden Jubilee. 
 
 For six and fifty years St. Mary's was destined 
 to stand, a House of God, diffusing the blessings 
 and consolations of religion to thousands of souls 
 coming to seek what only the Catholic Church can 
 
 [ 9 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 give, the truths and graces that Christ committed 
 to the dispensing hands of His priesthood. In 
 the words of Archbishop Ireland, it was the 
 "House of God and the Gate of Heaven, pro- 
 claiming to all the real purpose of life, and point- 
 ing out to the present generation the blessed re- 
 ward held out to those who serve God faithfully." 
 And its people loved it as the House of God. They 
 were ever adding some new touch of loveliness to 
 it, adorning it with tabernacle and font, with pic- 
 tures and candelabra and exquisite vestments, 
 sparing nothing that could contribute to the 
 beauty of the sanctuary and the dignity of its serv- 
 ices. Father Caillet's joy was full when, on 
 March 22, 1882, a few friends subscribed the sum 
 of twelve thousand dollars "to lift from the church 
 the incumbrance which had been a source of anxi- 
 ety to him;" and his happiness was no less keen 
 than that of the little group of his parishioners who 
 assembled in Mr. James J. Hill's residence that 
 March evening to meet him and announce the 
 good news to him. Piety reigned in the parish, 
 and the spirit of charity made of the congregation 
 one great family in which help was always ready 
 and the sorrow of one was the sorrow of many. 
 The life of a parish finds expression in its societies, 
 which are simply so many organized systems of de- 
 votion and charity; it is significant and interest- 
 ing to recall the number of church societies called 
 into being by the zeal of St. Mary's pastor: the 
 
 [ 10 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 Rosary Society, the Young Ladies' Sodality, the 
 Holy Angels' Sodality, the Society of the Holy 
 Name, Knights of the Blessed Virgin, the St. Vin- 
 cent de Paul Society, the Perpetual Adoration So- 
 ciety, the League of the Sacred Heart, Ladies' 
 Aid Society, Altar Society, Literary and Reading 
 Circle. St. Mary's Home for friendless girls was 
 established in 1884, and was at first managed by 
 ladies of the parish under the following Board of 
 Directors: Mmes. J. J. Hill, P. F. McQuillan, J. 
 T. Beaumont, J. McCauley, P. H. Kelly, H. 
 Bamford, F. F. Mclver, P. R. L. Hardenbergh, 
 J. H. Allen, B. Beaupre, F. Seymour, Ahce 
 Goodrich, D. Ryan, A. McDonald. It was sub- 
 sequently committed to the charge of the Ladies 
 of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. For several 
 years the Orphan Asylum, the first institution of 
 the kind in the Northwest, although not founded 
 by Father Caillet, depended on him for the funds 
 that maintained it. 
 
 Mention should be made of an organization which 
 was known wherever the name of St. Mary's was 
 mentioned — St. Mary's choir. It dates back to the 
 earliest days of the church. Under the directorship, 
 first, of Mrs. A. M. Shawe, and, subsequently, of 
 Miss Elsie Shawe, musicians of a high order and 
 accomplished organists, by its exquisite rendering 
 of ecclesiastical music and fidelity to its best tradi- 
 tions, it contributed greatly to the sense of piety 
 that always marked the services of St. Mary's. 
 
 [ " ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 Much of the marvelous record of this choir was due 
 to the interest which Father Caillet always mani- 
 fested in it as an organization and in its individual 
 members. 
 
 The completion of the church left Father Cail- 
 let's hands free for a work which he deemed the 
 most fruitful of his life — the building of St. Mary's 
 school. To this task he bent all his energies and in 
 1880 a structure of ample and dignified proportions, 
 spacious and handsome, well appointed in every 
 detail, faced the church, housing the children who 
 thronged to it from all sides. His parish he now 
 regarded as fully equipped: for his own comfort 
 he had no thought, and so the little frame house 
 adjoining the church continued to serve as his res- 
 idence as long as he was pastor of St. Mary's. 
 
 The school was the object of his special pride 
 and solicitude. It was characteristic of the man 
 that the young people who went out from its halls 
 were not lost to view the day they received their 
 diplomas. He kept steadily in touch with them, 
 following them with helpful interest, enlisting the 
 good will of men of affairs in their behalf, and en- 
 couraging their laudable ambition in a practical 
 way. The graduates of St. Mary's won their way 
 to the confidence of merchants and bankers. For 
 many men now holding posts of trust and emolu- 
 ment in the Northwest the reputation of St. Mary's 
 school first opened the door of opportunity. 
 
 [ 12 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 And this was not the last service that Father 
 Caillet rendered to the cause of education. The 
 estabhshment of a convent of the Visitation nuns 
 was for some years among his most cherished hopes. 
 In 1872, with the authorization of Bishop Grace, 
 he journeyed to St. Louis to ask for a foimdation 
 from the Motherhouse in that city. He went back 
 in 1873 to renew the request, and in May of that 
 year, two sisters. Mother M. Vincentia Marotte 
 and Sister Xavier Wickham, visited St. Paul, re- 
 maining for some days under the hospitable roof of 
 Colonel J. S. Prince while plans for the coming of 
 a Visitandine colony were being completed. Four 
 trusted friends of Father Caillet — Messrs. J. S. 
 Prince, P. J. McQuillan, B. Beaupre, and P. H. 
 Kelly — took an active interest in the new enter- 
 prise, and were instrumental in a large way in 
 making the establishment of the Convent feasible. 
 On August 12, 1873, six sisters, travelling under 
 Father Caillet's care, arrived in St. Paul, and 
 found a pleasant home awaiting them on Somer- 
 set Street. The first Mass was celebrated in their 
 oratory on the Feast of the Assumption, when en- 
 closure was formally established. Father Caillet's 
 wisdom has been richly vindicated. The history of 
 the Visitation Community — the erection of the 
 Convent at the corner of Robert Street and Uni- 
 versity Avenue, and the erection of the splendid 
 Convents in which the nuns now carry on their 
 work, the contribution of the Community to Cath- 
 
 [ 13 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 olic life in Minnesota, the impress stamped upon 
 the young women who with the choicest graces of 
 culture imbibed the spirit of enlightened piety that 
 the Visitandines impart — all this is familiar to 
 those who are acquainted with the forces diffusing 
 the blessings of education and religion in the 
 Northwest during the past forty years. Father 
 Caillet would have rejoiced to see the stately Con- 
 vent that is today the home of the nuns — the gift of 
 one of tlieir own alumnae — but he did not live to 
 see this happy fruition of his hopes. He watched 
 to the last over the Convent, faithful guardian, 
 guide, and friend of the Community for whose 
 coming he had been so solicitous. 
 
 Father Caillet was the ideal parish priest, the 
 true pastor of souls. He could lay no claim to 
 graces of oratory, in fact he never attained a facile 
 command of English, and yet, his people never 
 tired of his simple, solid instructions, setting forth 
 the teaching of the Church and the duties of her 
 children with a clearness and persuasiveness that 
 charmed alike the humblest and the most cultured 
 of his congregation. The piety and sincerity of a 
 priestly soul touched his words with simple elo- 
 quence — behind the M'^ords he spoke was the trans- 
 parent goodness of the life he lived. As a spirit- 
 ual guide he reminded one somewhat of the Cure 
 of Ars, with whose spirit he seemed to have been 
 penetrated. There is a sanity in saintliness that 
 pierces unerringly to the heart of a problem. This 
 
 [ 14 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 gift Father Caillet possessed, and with it a rare in- 
 sight into character. Many a troubled soul went 
 out from St. Mary's, carrying the peace and sure- 
 ness that come from contact with one who dwells 
 habitually in another world. 
 
 He was the children's friend and father. 
 Between child and priest exists one of the beauti- 
 ful bonds of life. The priest looks at the child with 
 some of the love of Him who would have the little 
 ones come unto Him, and the child turns instinc- 
 tively to the priest with trust and reverence. Father 
 Caillet knew and loved children. He was interest- 
 ed in them, in all their doings and all their ways. 
 The school, which he built on a splendid scale and 
 at the cost of much sacrifice, was, as we have said, 
 the special object of his predilection. There he 
 loved to tarry among the young folk, never growing 
 weary of endless catechism, lighting up lessons 
 with stories and illustrations the children could not 
 forget. The privilege of preparing them for First 
 Communion he jealously guarded for himself . 
 When separated from them, they were ever in his 
 thoughts. His letters had messages for them — 
 messages that show how well he understood them. 
 When lying ill at Lyons he fancied them playing 
 under the window, or singing hymns to the Mother 
 of the Lord around her statue half-hidden in the 
 flowers of the garden. As the children of St. 
 Mary's grew to manhood and womanhood under 
 his fostering hands, they grew in reverence and af- 
 
 [ 15 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 lection for their pastor and for the faith he so 
 sweetly taught them. 
 
 If Father Caillet is lovingly remembered by 
 many who knew him as a priest and were trained 
 in religion by him, he is still more affectionately 
 remembered by the few who knew him also as a 
 friend. For only a few knew him as he really was 
 — the unsuspected fund of affection, the considera- 
 tion for others that found expression in many 
 touching, thoughtful ways, the gentle shrewdness 
 that was never cynical and never credulous, the 
 judicious mind that begot confidence, the kindly 
 humor that flashed out so suddenly and so merrily, 
 the quiet fearlessness that would hold calmly 
 against pressure like a rock in a stream, the un- 
 changing simplicity of soul, and, over all, and suf- 
 fusing all, the priestly dignity of a man for whom 
 the thought of things unseen was never far away. 
 It is not surprising that those who enjoyed his 
 friendship turned to him in all the affairs of life 
 with a trust that knew no doubt and no limitations. 
 
 How loyal he could be to those whom he liked 
 and trusted his friendship Avith Mr. Chemidlin, ex- 
 tending over forty years, bore wistful testimony. 
 They were very unlike, these two men. Their 
 paths lay far apart. Their thoughts ran in differ- 
 ent channels. The sprightly temperament of the 
 layman was sensitive to much for which the priest 
 had little perception. And yet, they were drawn 
 together in a placid companionship that grew in 
 
 [ 16 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 gentle thought fulness as the years passed by. The 
 letters bring out the contrast of temperament and 
 also the note of simple intimacy that pervaded their 
 friendship. Mr. Chemidlin never lets a chance 
 pass to tease Father Caillet. Father Caillet will 
 not make the trip to the Holy Land, much as he 
 covets it, because Mr. Chemidlin is debarred by 
 illness from sharing the pleasure of it with him. 
 Mr. Chemidlin's letter to Mrs. Hill on the death of 
 his friend is the cry of a desolate heart. 
 
 It is as pastor of St. Mary's that Father Caillet 
 is chiefly remembered. With St. Mary's his life 
 was bound up. To it and to its flock he gave the 
 best years of his life without stint, without reserve. 
 When illness forced him to seek health in a less 
 rigorous climate, his thoughts were with his flock 
 beyond the sea. Wherever he was, at Lyons or 
 Madrid or Rome, at Carthage or Tunis or in the 
 Sahara, "wandering from enchantment to enchant- 
 ment," his heart was with St. Mary's. He would 
 not exchange his humble church and choir for the 
 finest church in Paris. The church he built was 
 dear to him, and dearer still the spiritual edifice 
 that through his priestly zeal God deigned to 
 build up in the hearts of the people to whom he 
 ministered so faithfully. 
 
 The celebration of the Silver Jubilee of St. 
 Mary's, August 7, 1892, was the occasion of a cere- 
 mony which greatly gratified all who knew Father 
 Caillet. Archbishop Ireland had just returned 
 
 [ '- ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 from Rome, bringing with him the Brief that 
 raised the pastor of St. Mary's to the rank of Do- 
 mestic Prelate. All the Bishops af the Province 
 of St. Paul were present to do honor to their old 
 friend. Archbishop Ireland preached the sermon 
 and invested Father Caillet with the purple of his 
 new dignity. "I do not speak to praise or flatter 
 with sweet words," said the Archbishop, "I speak 
 to render testimony to truth; I speak to edify. 
 True merit does not seek to be known; but it is 
 our duty to know it and value it. We are assem- 
 bled this morning to honor a deserving priest. He 
 who was pastor of St. Mary's Church twenty-five 
 years ago is the pastor today. For ten years pre- 
 viously he had labored in St. Paul as pastor of the 
 Cathedral. During his thirty-five years of minis- 
 terial life he has been the faithful, the irreproach- 
 able, the self-denying, the zealous priest. How 
 much good he has accomplished ! How many souls 
 brought nearer to God! Is this as nothing? No 
 wonder that the Sovereign Pontiff, hearing of this 
 unstained and zealous ministry, desired to mark it 
 as a lesson to others by sending to your pastor the 
 Brief which has been sent to you, and which con- 
 stitutes him prelate of the Roman Court. For 
 centuries it has been the custom of the Popes to 
 select as members of their Court distinguished and 
 meritorious ecclesiastics throughout the world. 
 When in Rome they enjoy special honors and priv- 
 ileges befitting their propinquity to the person of 
 
 [ 18 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 the Pontiff. It is my privilege to represent this 
 morning Leo XIII in conferring this dignity on 
 Monsignor Caillet. I rejoice in doing it; I have 
 known him for many years. I have toiled at his 
 side as fellow-priest; when made a Bishop I have 
 made use of his wise and discreet counsel at all 
 times and in all circumstances. I have found him 
 to be the worthy ecclesiastic. His parishioners 
 have known him well, and with me they tender him 
 their felicitations. May he be with us for many 
 years to come, to serve the cause of Christ and edi- 
 fy his people and his fellow-priests." 
 
 In the autumn of 1893 Father Caillet left his 
 beloved St. Mary's. Only more important duties 
 and responsibilities could reconcile him to the part- 
 ing. But he was now Vicar-General, and in the 
 course of another year he was to take charge of 
 the St. Paul Seminary. It was eminently fitting 
 that he should be the first Rector of the Seminary. 
 This was made clear in a memorable manner at 
 the dedication of the Seminary, September 4, 1895. 
 The Apostolic Delegate, Archbishop Satolli, a 
 large number of Archbishops and Bishops, hun- 
 dreds of priests, representatives of Catholic seats 
 of learning, and a great gathering of men eminent 
 in civic walks of life came to signalize by their 
 presence the formal dedication and presentation of 
 an institution that M'as to inaugurate a new era in 
 the history of the Church in the Northwest. Mass 
 had been celebrated by Archbishop Satolli under 
 
 [ 19 1 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 the open sky in the presence of a vast assemblage; 
 the sermon had been preached by Dr. O'Gorman, 
 setting forth in glowing accents the mission of a 
 seminary of the priesthood; one by one the build- 
 ings on the Campus had been blessed and dedicated, 
 and evening had come, the moment of the closing 
 act — the founder's formal presentation of the in- 
 stitution to the Diocese of St. Paul. Archbishop 
 Ireland, looking into the future sketched with 
 masterly sweep the service the St. Paul Seminary 
 was destined to render to Church and Country; 
 professors voiced the gratitude of priests and stu- 
 dents to the illustrious founder of their seminary; 
 the Apostolic Delegate, as representative of the 
 Sovereign Pontiff, emphasized the significance of 
 the great gift made "to a Church that can die from 
 earth only with the race." And then Mr. Hill rose 
 to speak. Briefly and simply he told the reasons 
 that animated him in founding the seminary. "For 
 nearly thirty years," he said, "I have lived in a 
 Roman Catholic household and daily have had be- 
 fore me the earnest devotion, watchful care, and 
 Christian example of a Roman Catholic wife, of 
 whom it may be said, Blessed are the pure in heart 
 for they shall see God, and on whose behalf to-night 
 I desire to present and turn over to the illustrious 
 Archbishop of this Diocese the seminary and its 
 endowment as provided in the deeds and articles of 
 trust covering the same." He had noted, too, that 
 the Catholic people had little else than their faith 
 
 [ 20 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 in God and the aid of their priests. He had also 
 seen the work done by Archbishop Ireland in 
 spreading throughout the country the light of re- 
 ligion, and, seeing it, he felt called upon to devote 
 a portion of the world's goods with which he had 
 been blessed to educating for the priesthood men 
 who would be able to preach down the spirit of 
 unbelief, and to stand as shining lights along the 
 pathway that leads to heaven. This explanation 
 he prefaced with a tribute to Father Caillet which 
 must be given in Mr. Hill's own words: "I cannot 
 let this occasion pass without a word in regard to 
 one who has most to do with the early consideration 
 of and conclusions which ultimately led to the 
 founding of this institution. To most of you I 
 need hardly mention the name of Monsignor Louis 
 Caillet, whose long life as a Catholic priest has been 
 spent among you, and whose devotion to duty, 
 whose broad Christian charity and unswerving zeal 
 for the spiritual welfare and upright life of both 
 old and young have endeared him in an unusual 
 degree to the hearts of the people of St. Paul, both 
 within and without the Church which he has so 
 dearly loved and so faithfully served. Over forty 
 years of active service have left him somewhat im- 
 paired in health, but with a spirit as patient and 
 devoted as when he first came among you so many 
 years ago. I may say truthfully that had it not 
 been for my intimate knowledge of and admiration 
 for his character as a Christian pastor and a per- 
 
 [ 21 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 sonal friend, it is very probable I would never have 
 thought of assuming the responsibility for the work 
 which has been dedicated today." Thus was the 
 simple priest who had lived and worked so long and 
 so unobtrusively suddenly siunmoned again out of 
 the obscurity he loved by the voice of a man whose 
 grandeur of vision and magnificence of achievement 
 lent distinction to every word of praise he uttered. 
 It was a dramatic setting for a tribute, and the 
 audience — the most notable ever gathered in re- 
 sponse to the invitation of the Church in the North- 
 west — was quick to recognize the justice and grace- 
 fulness of it all. 
 
 As Rector of the Seminary, Father Caillet's very 
 presence among the students was an exalting in- 
 fluence. His gentle gravity, his priestly piety, his 
 mellow wisdom silently made themselves felt in the 
 lives of the young men entrusted to his paternal 
 care. For three years he lived among his priests 
 and students, loved and revered by all, years ap- 
 parently free from heavy care, for he let no one 
 know what he knew too well — that his days were 
 rapidly coming to a close. Few things lend so 
 much dignity to life as the calm bearing of a man 
 who is aware that the end is near, and who quietly 
 prepares to meet death with the simple trust in God 
 that he has brought to all his work and tasks. So 
 was it with Father Caillet. He died as he lived. He 
 passed to his reward on Sunday afternoon, No- 
 vember 28, 1897. Ever since he left St. Mary's he 
 
 [22 ] 
 
SAINT MARY'S CHURCH 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 had gone back again and again to offer the Holy 
 Sacrifice at the altar so full of sweet memories for 
 him, and to speak from the familiar pulpit to the 
 flock he knew and loved so well. It was his wish 
 that he should be buried from St. Mary's — "it 
 is my desire that I be buried from St. Mary's 
 Church, the Church I loved so well and will love 
 to the last." And back to the scene of his hfe's 
 labors his mortal remains were borne by priests and 
 seminarians to rest before the altar for the last time. 
 There on December 1st, the last obsequies were 
 performed in the midst of Bishops, priests, and 
 people, who followed him to the grave with tears 
 and prayers. The Mass was celebrated by Bishop 
 Shanley. The sermon was preached by Arch- 
 bishop Ireland, who spoke of Father Caillet, as 
 "one who was above all things a priest," and closed 
 a moving discourse with these farewell words: 
 "Father Caillet, we bid you good-bye. Your mem- 
 ory will long be with us. For years and years St. 
 Mary's Church in every stone of its walls will speak 
 of your devotion to duty, of your irreproachable 
 life; and for years and years thousands who have 
 been blessed by your ministry, who have knelt be- 
 fore you in confession of their sins, who have re- 
 ceived from your hands the Body of Christ, who 
 have listened to words of comfort from your lips, 
 who have heard of the virtues of your priestly life, 
 will speak of you. For years and years in St. Paul, 
 in the Northwest the name of Father Caillet will 
 
 [ 23 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 be a benediction among men, and men will be better 
 because he has hved among us." 
 
 Father Caillet's will was what might have been 
 expected of him. To his life-long friend Mr. Che- 
 midlin he left two thousand dollars. To St. Mary's 
 School he bequeathed the sum of ten thousand dol- 
 lars, the modest savings of a life time. To the St. 
 Paul Seminary he gave his books, and to Miss 
 Annabel McQuillan, as a token of affection and 
 esteem to her and of gratitude and friendship to 
 her dear father and mother, he gave the picture of 
 the Madonna painted by Gabriel Max and present- 
 ed to him by his "kind and dear friend," Mr. James 
 J. HiU. 
 
 The story of Father Caillet is not starred with 
 deeds that win renown and entitle a man to a page 
 in the annals of Church or State. It is the story 
 of one who at the Master's bidding left home and 
 friends in the dawn of his manhood for the far-off 
 frontiers of a foreign land, who, while great move- 
 ments were afoot around him, and a magnificent 
 race of men were organizing civilization in the 
 wilderness, became a power for good among gentle 
 and simple, guarding faithfully the most sacred 
 interests that can be committed to human keeping, 
 exemplifying the graces that adorn the priesthood, 
 and cheerfully enduring the sacrifices that forty 
 years of pioneer ministry necessitated. Lives that 
 are unobtrusively devoted to truth and duty and 
 kindness amid the tangled confusion of the world 
 
 [ 24 ] 
 
FATHER CAILLET 
 
 are usually devoid of incident that deserves to be 
 blazoned abroad. Their very simplicity ofttimes 
 veils their true nobility from all except discerning 
 eyes. So was it with Father Caillet. So is it with 
 these letters. They record no profound reflections, 
 they chronicle no startling occurrences. They 
 give us fleeting glimpses of what was most charm- 
 ing in the man who wrote them — the affectionate 
 simplicity of a priestly soul. 
 
 Slender souvenirs of a holy priest, who was also 
 the trusted friend and guide of all for whose eyes 
 the following pages are intended, these little letters, 
 casual memorials of years gone by, may revive fad- 
 ing memories, and bring back some of the sweetness 
 and fragrance of the days they recall. 
 
 [25 ] 
 
AUGUST NICHOLAS CHEMIDLIN 
 
AUGUST CHEMIDLIN AND HIS WIFE 
 
 At the time of their Marriage in 1852 
 
A. N. CHEMIDLIN 
 
 August Nicholas Chemidlin was born December 
 fifth, 1825, in Lorraine, France, in the httle village 
 of Imlin, or Yhmling, in the vicinity of Nancy. 
 He was the son of Nicholas Chemidlin, and the 
 eldest of a family of eight sons and one daughter. 
 He received his education from the Jesuits, prob- 
 ably at their college at Nancj^ as he always spoke 
 of that city as though he had lived there — a univer- 
 sity town of great historic interest, and graced with 
 some of the most ex(juisite examples of eighteenth 
 century architecture. He described Lacordaire's 
 visits to his college, and it appears that this gifted 
 priest went to Nancy and founded a Dominican 
 Convent when August was seventeen years old. 
 He used to take long walking trips in his vacations, 
 which remained an enchanting memory all his life. 
 After leaving college he studied a while for the 
 priesthood, but gave it up, and he and his brother 
 John went to seek their fortunes in America. 
 
 The time of their arrival there is not known, but 
 in 1852 August, then twenty-six years old, went to 
 White Plains, New York, where he lived for a year 
 or two, giving private lessons in the Lorillard and 
 Stuyvesant Fish families. This is the year of his 
 marriage, which took place in Brooklyn, to Celena, 
 daughter of Gabriel Franchere. 
 
 [ 29 ] 
 
A. N. CHEMIDLIN 
 
 Mrs. Chemidlin's father came from Montreal. 
 He was a member of the expedition sent by John 
 Jacob Astor to found Astoria at the mouth of the 
 Columbia river, and sailed from New York in the 
 ill-fated Tonquin in September, 1810. His narra- 
 tive was the first history of the Astor Expeditions 
 and the basis for Washington Irving's "Astoria." 
 On his return journey he travelled overland 5,000 
 miles in canoes and on foot. He engaged in the 
 fur trade at Sault Sainte Marie, and later establish- 
 ed the commercial house of Franchere and Com- 
 pany in New York. The Society of St. Jean- 
 Baptiste, for French-Canadians in the United 
 States, was founded by him. He married the 
 widow of Joseph Prince of Cincinnati, the mother 
 of John S. Prince, who went to St. Paul in 1854. 
 
 Mr. Prince built a spacious house on Eighth 
 Street, which was occupied by his family in 1856. 
 Mr. Franchere,* accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. 
 Chemidlin, visited Saint Paul that year in the sum- 
 mer, which was the height of the season for travel 
 in the days of river steamboats.** When the head 
 of navigation was reached what a charming picture 
 the new settlement must have made, encircled by 
 green hills, in a sparkling atmosphere with nothing 
 to cloud it but the fragrant smoke of wood fires. 
 Mr. Chemidlin decided to settle in Saint Paul, and 
 
 *It was at the home of his stepson that Franchere died in 1863, 
 and the last survivor of the Astor Expedition lies buried in Saint 
 Paul, in the Prince plot in Calvary Cemetery. 
 
 **Mr. James J. Hill arrived in July of the same year. 
 
 [ 30 ] 
 
A. N. CHEMIDLIN 
 
 in 1858 he bought a farm in the vicinity of Lake 
 Josephine. There they hved for four years, hav- 
 ing as a member of the family Theophile Chemid- 
 hn, a young nephew who joined his uncle in Saint 
 Paul in the spring of 1858 and continued to live 
 with him for eight years. The friendship with 
 Father Caillet began in 1857, at the time of his or- 
 dination. Mrs. Prince knew him as a student for 
 the priesthood, and the two Frenchmen may have 
 met at her house. 
 
 In the spring of 1862 the life of a farmer must 
 have been discouraging, for we find Mr. Chemidlin 
 giving it up to accept the appointment of toll-col- 
 lector at the Suspension Bridge across the Missis- 
 sippi between Saint Anthony and Minneapolis. 
 The toll-house stood almost alone on Nicollet Is- 
 land, above Saint Anthonv Falls, then in all their 
 natural beauty. The island was finely wooded and 
 a paradise to the boy Theophile and his friends, 
 who could hunt to their hearts' content. One of them 
 recalls radiant autumn days when the drum of a 
 partridge would frequently sound from the woods 
 nearby, and speaks of lying in the grass on summer 
 nights, listening to Mrs. Chemidlin's singing, "the 
 voice of an angel" to those boyish ears. She was 
 small and dark, and gay in spirit. The charm of 
 the place for her young nieces was the garden of 
 old-fashioned flowers, which "Uncle" rose early to 
 cultivate. This idyllic life was interrupted in the 
 spring of 1864, when Captain James L. Fisk or- 
 
 [ 31 ] 
 
A. N. CHEMIDLIN 
 
 ganized an expedition to the Montana gold fields, 
 and Mr. Chemidlin made the trip with him in charge 
 of the commissary. He returned in the autumn 
 and resumed his position at the toll-gate, remaining 
 there until 1866. Theophile left him in the spring 
 of that year and went to Montana, where he settled 
 at Fort Benton. The Chemidlins remained on the 
 island for a time and opened an ice-cream parlor, 
 the prototype of the modern tea-house, in a house 
 on the hillside facing the lovely view. It is re- 
 membered by its old clientele as a place of great 
 charm, and it was later taken over by Charles 
 Wales. In 1868 Mr. Chemidlin was in Saint Paul, 
 nursing Father Caillet through a serious illness, 
 and seeking a new situation, which proved to be 
 at Crystal Lake, Minnesota, where he took charge 
 of a general store, owned by Bruno Beaupre of 
 Saint Paul. After a few years there he returned 
 to Saint Anthony, where he again took up teaching. 
 He had as pupils the two elder daughters of An- 
 thony Kelly, and was engaged by Father Tissot 
 to teach the boys' classes in the parish school of 
 Saint Anthony of Padua, his wife becoming or- 
 ganist in the church. In 1879 he was about to 
 open a school in Saint Paul, but through Father 
 Caillet he met Mr. Hill, and was pursuaded by him 
 to become tutor to his children instead. At that 
 time the Hill house at the corner of Ninth and 
 Canada Streets was new, and Mr. Hill was just 
 entering on his career as a railroad man. Mary, 
 
 [ 32 ] 
 
X 
 
 I- 
 
 X 
 
 < 
 
 Pi 
 < 
 
 X 
 
 yi 
 
 < 
 
 C 
 
 X 
 X 
 
 •< 
 s 
 
A. N. CHEMIDLIN 
 
 James and Louis were the pupils, and John Kelly 
 was with them for a short time. Clara was privi- 
 leged to come and go, and of greater interest to her 
 than her A B C's were the delicately pencilled 
 flowers, shells and butterflies with which her 
 teacher used to decorate the flyleaves of the school 
 books. 
 
 There were not only lessons, but afternoon walks, 
 not less instructive and wholly delightful. Who 
 would not enjoy a visit to an iron foundry, a hunt 
 for cornehans in a railroad cut, or the Wabasha 
 Street bridge at the time of the spring floods, when, 
 with luck, one might see a house floating down the 
 river? But best of all were Carver's Cave, the fish 
 hatchery, and the Indian Mounds, all in delightful 
 proximity. The Indian Mounds as left by their 
 builders, commanding a magnificent sweep of the 
 winding river, was the spot for the first crocuses. 
 Near the fish hatchery was a famous ground for 
 frogging parties. The frogs' legs were amputated 
 to be taken home for a delectable dish; and to a 
 little girl that was a less desirable pastime than 
 gathering wild flowers in a nearby ravine. What 
 quaint bouquets Mr. Chemidlin could make, and 
 how well he knew the haunts of the rarest flowers! 
 These children took quite for granted his knowl- 
 edge of botany, geology or ethnology; but in later 
 years they realized that his love of nature and art, 
 of reading and study, was his chief resource, and 
 the evidence of the old world education which was 
 
 [ 33 ] 
 
A. N. CHEMIDLIN 
 
 his sole equipment for the life of a Minnesota 
 pioneer. 
 
 There were summers spent at Lake Elmo, at 
 Lake Minnetonka after the opening of the Lafay- 
 ette Hotel, and finally at "the farm," Mr. Hill's 
 country place on Pleasant Lake, ten miles north 
 of town, where Father Caillet also used to spend 
 his summer holiday. The two friends took daily 
 walks, often around the lake, when Father Caillet's 
 little joke was to urge the recalcitrant to accom- 
 pany them at least half way. Mr. Chemidlin was 
 always a familiar figure on the lake and an expe- 
 rienced fisherman. 
 
 After the death of his wife in 1883, Mr. Chem- 
 idlin went to live at the Prince's, where he spent the 
 remaining eighteen years of his life. That house 
 and garden was a fine example of the old homes of 
 "lower town," built in a more spacious proportion 
 than those of today, and ruled by a more hospitable, 
 if simpler regime. Two blocks away stood Saint 
 Mary's church, truly the shrine of this Catholic 
 family. Here Mrs. Prince always paid the first 
 of her visits; her sister, Mrs. Shawe, was organist 
 and leader of the choir, a position which remained 
 in her family for fifty years; and the lamp of the 
 sanctuary, lit by Charlotte Prince in 1867, was kept 
 burning by one of her younger sisters until the last 
 day in the old home in 1903. This house, like Mr. 
 Hill's, was taken down as soon as vacated by the 
 family. The railroad terminals have obliterated 
 
 [ 34 ] 
 
A. N. CHEMIDLIN 
 
 every vestige of that early quarter of town, which 
 exists now only in our memories, with all the glam- 
 our of childhood and youth. 
 
 Mr. Chemidlin's pupils continued with him until 
 1885, when they were- succeeded by their younger 
 sisters and brother, all of whom were his French 
 scholars. The trip abroad with Father Caillet in 
 1889 was his first return to Europe. He then re- 
 visited his birthplace and found only a heap of 
 ruins, the work of the Germans in 1870, and never 
 rebuilt. 
 
 In 1891 the Hills moved into the house on Sum- 
 mit Avenue, where for the next ten years Mr. Che- 
 midlin was a frequent visitor. When the lilies-of- 
 the-valley bloomed, for which the Prince garden 
 was famous, he never failed to appear with a bunch 
 of them which he had gathered for Mrs. Hill, the 
 yearly token of his devotion to her. The courtly 
 manners of his youth clung to him, and his en- 
 trance with a bow and the salutation "Mesdames, 
 votre serviteur," was always warmly welcomed. 
 His talk and banter were a delight and his eyes 
 would shine with their old fire. In 1895 he again 
 went to Europe with Father Caillet; unfortunately 
 we have no letters from him while on this trip. In 
 the following year there was a new bond between 
 his family and the Princes, when Louis Nicholas 
 Chemidlin, son of his brother John, married Grace 
 Prince. The last letters in this book were written 
 from their house, when he visited them in 1897. 
 
 [ 35 ] 
 
A. N. CHEMIDLIN 
 
 He gave French lessons to some of his friends, 
 and did some work in the offices of the Great North- 
 ern Railway, but in his later years poor health and 
 increasing age did not admit of more than his daily 
 walk and hours of reading. On July sixteenth, 
 1901, at the age of seventy-five, he met his death 
 under the wheels of a fire engine, while walking 
 home from the Public Library. He lived only long 
 enough to receive the last Sacraments, in an uncon- 
 scious condition. A violent end to a gentle life! 
 
 The writer of this memoir was in France at the 
 time, and received in the same mail both the news 
 of his death and a letter from him. He asked her 
 to visit for him his favorite spots, to eat a certain 
 dish, to watch the children play, and to think of 
 him when gazing on the beauty of that pleasant 
 land. In closing he wondered whether our reward 
 in the next world might be to visit those places 
 which we loved best on earth, and if that were true, 
 how often should he be, where she was now, in 
 France. 
 
 [ 30 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
y. 
 
 r. 
 
LETTERS 
 
 Lyons, May 28, 1868. 
 
 Mrs. Prince^ 
 St. Paul. 
 My Dear Mrs. Prince : 
 
 You have most likely heard that I reached Lyons 
 on the 13th instant, and I should have written to 
 you sooner had it not been for a severe indisposition 
 which has lasted about a week, and is now nearly 
 over. During those days I often thought of my 
 good little nurses, Charlotte and Nettie, and wish- 
 ed I had them near mc, or rather to be near them. 
 It is a very sad thing to mar the happiness which 
 your friends enjoy in seeing you, by the sight of 
 sickness. But I now intend to be very careful so 
 not to have another relapse. 
 
 I need not tell you the joy of my dear mother. 
 You can imagine that better than I could express, 
 and also of my brother and friends, above all, of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Markoe. I went to see them only 
 twice before I was taken ill, but they have come 
 very often to see me in spite of the very long dis- 
 tance which separates their house from the one 
 where I live. And then, of course, our conversations 
 would be about St. Paul and our dear friends. I 
 
 [39] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 must assure you that you have a large share in that 
 conversation, and I could easily bring the blush to 
 your cheeks were I to repeat to you all the good we 
 say of yourself, but I shall spare you. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Markoe appear to be very lonesome in their 
 new country, particularly Mr. Markoe, although 
 he tries very hard to hide it even from himself. He 
 does not speak French, and, therefore, is cut off 
 from society. Mrs. Markoe would get along very 
 well, as she speaks quite easily, were it not for the 
 loneliness of her husband. If you ever come to 
 France, I advise you to leave Mr. Prince on the 
 other side, for those husbands are a lot of trouble 
 to their wives — take Mr. Markoe for instance. 
 Lorenzo and Johnnie are delighted to have me here. 
 It makes it look, they say, like home. I have not 
 yet seen the three others, but expect to do so very 
 soon. Then I will be able to tease our sweet-sour 
 girl. Had she kissed me when I left I would have 
 perhaps done the same to Rawly, but she neglect- 
 ed that, and I shall neglect it also. 
 
 I very often think of you, Mrs. Link and Mrs. 
 Shawe. You are such lovers of beautiful nature 
 that you would enjoy even being sick where I now 
 reside. The house is in a garden perfectly filled 
 with flowers and fruits. I would give you the 
 flowers and eat the fruits, but it is charming, and 
 so much the more as there are so many recollections 
 of the past connected with that most beautiful spot. 
 
 [ 40 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 There is our playground, where Father Tissot and 
 I passed so many pleasant recreations; the trees 
 upon which we used to climb to have the pleasure 
 of studying our lessons in their foliage; the chapel 
 where we prayed and served Mass; our good 
 teacher, and his sister so kind, who, in spite of her 
 eighty years can run as swiftly as any of your chil- 
 dren. All these things, you will understand, have 
 their charm and speak to the heart, even when that 
 is sick with rheumatism, but I wish you were here 
 only for a few days, as you would be at Pine Bend. 
 I wish your lonesome friend from that corner could 
 be with you.* We have the most delightful 
 weather, although it is very warm, and the crops 
 look as fine as may be desired. The vines are 
 crowded with grapes, strawberries are beautiful 
 and plenty, and the same with cherries, plums, apri- 
 cots, etc. 
 
 If I feel well enough, I intend to go to Stras- 
 bourg and call to see Mr. Chemidlin's niece, but as 
 I do not intend to go yet, it might be well for Mr. 
 Chemidlin to write to me in case he had something 
 particular to say. 
 
 I have not mentioned anything about my journey 
 as you shall have learned all from letters written to 
 others. I wish very much I had the use of my 
 limbs so as to be able to visit. I might succeed well 
 in obtaining articles for our church, but here it is 
 not as in New York, where you have cars ; you must 
 
 *Mrs. H. G. O. Morison. 
 
 [ 41 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 entirely trust to your legs. Pray that I may be 
 able to walk without further inconvenience. 
 
 Now, I shall expect a long letter from you with 
 all particulars about the church, without forgetting 
 our dear little choir. I do not forget them. Tell 
 Mrs. Shawe to remember me to them all, and warn 
 them that on my return I will bring them plenty 
 of work to practice on. 
 
 Now, how is my good friend, Mr. Prince? I 
 suppose always busy. And Mr. Chemidlin, has 
 he obtained a situation yet? Has he, at least, some 
 prospects of obtaining one? And your good 
 mother, how is she also? Is Mrs. Shawe speaking 
 about going to the country? 
 
 I have heard of the change made in the school, 
 and feel very sorry that you are obliged to resort 
 to means of rather doubtful expediency for the edu- 
 cation of your children. All I may say is, do for 
 the best and live in hope of having very soon some- 
 thing better, more substantial, more to be depended 
 upon.* 
 
 Please give my best regards to Mr. Prince, to 
 Mrs. Link, Mrs. Shawe and her husband, to both 
 your brothers and their wives, and my love to all 
 the children, and a big kiss to Johnnie. Tell Mr. 
 Chemidlin that I do not forget him and shall soon 
 write to him. 
 
 * Father Caillet brought the Sisters of the Visitation from 
 St. Louis. 
 
 [ 42 ] 
 
AUGUST CHEMIDLIN, ABOUT 18(io 
 
LETTERS 
 
 I will now close my letter with assurance of the 
 cordial affection of yours in Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 I have every reason to helieve that you keep 
 your bureau drawers in good order. 
 
 II 
 
 Lyon*, May 28, 1868. 
 
 Miss Charlotte Prince, 
 East Eighth St., 
 St. Paul. 
 
 My Dear Child Charlotte: 
 
 I received your kind and affectionate note this 
 week and avail myself of this opportunity to answer 
 it. I should be, indeed, very much pleased here if 
 my good friends of St. Paul could be here with me 
 and enjoy the beauties of the country. I should 
 like, in particular, to see the children, I mean you 
 all, play in the delightful garden under my win- 
 dow. There is a statue of the Blessed Virgin al- 
 most hidden among the flowers. How you would 
 like to sing the litany or say the rosary in the honor 
 of the Mother of Holy Love among those flowers 
 and before that statue! 
 
 I see by your letter that I have given you some 
 anxiety concerning the affection I bear to Nettie, 
 but do you believe that this excludes you from my 
 love or any one among you, my dear children? 
 Mistake: you have not understood what I meant 
 
 [ 43] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 when I sent you the little scrap about the darling. 
 I well knew that none among you had all the qual- 
 ities therein described; some had more, some less, 
 perhaps, but everyone had some and endeavored to 
 obtain all, and, therefore, you are all one darling to 
 me: then you need not be jealous of Nettie, nor 
 Mamie of you, for I love you all. 
 
 I have delivered to Mrs. Markoe the present you 
 sent to her. She was very much pleased with your 
 idea and admired very much the execution. Lor- 
 enzo and Johnnie are the only children at home for 
 the present. Willie, Rawly and James are at 
 Meximieux. Wednesday next, the whole family 
 will move to a village nine miles from Lyons and 
 about six from Meximieux. 
 
 After a few months I shall return to St Paul. 
 Pray that I may be in good health to be able to ac- 
 complish my task. I have enjoyed very much 
 meeting my friends here, but I may assure you 
 that my joy will be double in meeting my friends 
 in St. Paul. Tell Aunt Shawe that I do not forget 
 her or family. I pray for them all that God may 
 reward them all for her kindness. Remember me 
 also to the girls of the choir, and tell them that my 
 most earnest desire is to see them all together on 
 mv return. 
 
 Kiss the children for me. Believe me ever yours 
 affectionately in Christ, l^ Caillet. 
 
 P. S. Tell my dear, wild, little Mamie to pre- 
 
 [ 44 ] 
 
00 
 
 < 
 
 to 
 
 G 
 
 E-i 
 
 00 
 
 l-H 
 
 O 
 
 Ph 
 
 w 
 
 H 
 O 
 J 
 
LETTERS 
 
 pare a nice piece of music to play for me at my 
 return. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Lyons, July 12, 1868. 
 
 Miss Nettie Prince, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 My dear little Nettie: 
 
 My little bird tells me that you are surprised 
 not to receive a few lines from your patient; but 
 I know the good heart of my little Nettie. I feel 
 very sure that she will not think that I am indiffer- 
 ent or forgetful, so I have let my little bird talk 
 as much as it pleased and waited for the first op- 
 portunity to write you a few words. 
 
 I have now been in Lyons for nearly two 
 months. During that time I have had several oc- 
 casions of regretting not to have my little nurse 
 by me. At times it was for my own sake, and 
 again, it would have been for her own. I fancied 
 how much pleasure she would have in seeing all the 
 beautiful things which I did see, how she would 
 enjoy herself in a French kitchen, where she could 
 learn so many different ways of cooking the 
 same thing. I was told the other day that pota- 
 toes could be prepared in forty different ways. 
 What must it be of other things? You would also 
 have enjoyed very much our beautiful flowers and 
 
 [ 45 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 delightful fruits, for I have arrived in good season 
 for all those things. 
 
 My dear child, the time is coming near when I 
 shall see you again, also your papa and mamma, 
 and all your sisters, and I prize this pleasure above 
 all those I have had or could have in France. I 
 hope to find you endeavoring by all means to be- 
 come good, pious, and to improve yourself also in 
 your studies. Do your best in this latter respect, 
 my child, even against your inclination, and you 
 will rejoice for that effort in after life. I have 
 seen Rawly, Willie and Jimmie at the seminary. 
 They are all well and contented, although they re- 
 gret deeply the company of their kind young 
 friends of lower town. Jimmie thinks the house 
 drawn by Charlotte quite imperfect because there 
 is no cat on the gate post, but they blame Uncle 
 for not allowing Nettie to try her hand at it. 
 
 Good-bye, my dear child. Kiss the young ones 
 for me and give my best regards to papa, mamma 
 and grandma, without forgetting Miss now seven- 
 teen, and yet my child. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 [ 46 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 IV 
 
 Lyons, July 25, 1868. 
 
 Mr. J. S. Prince, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 My Dear Friend: 
 
 I am very happy, indeed, to be able to tell you 
 that my health is wonderfully improved and I am 
 doing better every day. For some time after my 
 arrival in France I hardly knew how it might turn. 
 I felt much better than when I left St. Paul, yet I 
 had so much pain that I was unable to take the 
 exercise which was otherwise necessary. Now it is 
 very different. I often walk in town the distance of 
 three or four miles without other inconvenience 
 than transient fatigue. My journey to Strasbourg 
 and Luneville seems to have benefited me very 
 much, and I have every reason to hope that my 
 trip back to St. Paul will complete my recovery. 
 I shall then be a new man in every respect, and 
 with God's assistance we will be able to complete 
 the good work which we have begun together. I 
 do not depend on human schemes but, as I have 
 said, on God's assistance. Who will move the good 
 will of all my friends in behalf of the work under- 
 taken for His own glory and the salvation of souls. 
 During my stay in France, I have not forgot- 
 ten our dear St. Mary's, and although I would 
 have done much better had it not been for my 
 
 [ *7 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 lameness, I have succeeded in obtaining articles 
 which will certainly please the congregation, es- 
 pecially the ladies of the Altar Society. Mrs. 
 Prince will find material to make flowers, and Mrs. 
 Link, pieces of silk to make sofa cushions and lit- 
 tle quilts. There is no chance to get money here 
 on interest, although money is abimdant and loaned 
 at a very low interest, but people think the United 
 States too far to send money there for investment. 
 
 Please tell my good friend, Mrs. Shawe, that I 
 have not forgotten our choir, although so far I 
 have not purchased one sheet of music. I intend 
 to see the leader of the Cathedral's choir, who is a 
 priest, and ask him his advice before buying any- 
 thing. 
 
 Last week I went to Meximieux, where, to my 
 great astonishment, 1 met Father Genis. I am 
 afraid he has made a great mistake in listening to 
 the entreaties of his parents, if he has the desire of 
 returning to St. Paul, for they will move every- 
 thing to keep him here. 
 
 The day before yesterday, Mr. and Mrs. Mar- 
 koe came to Lyons and we spent some pleasant 
 hours together. They seem better pleased in 
 JMontluel than they were in Lyons, and if they are 
 as well contented next winter, there is some 
 probability of their spending several years in 
 France. They send their love to you, to Mrs. 
 Prince, Mrs. Shawe, Mrs. Link and the children. 
 
 [ 48 ] 
 

 C 
 
 C 
 
 
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LETTERS 
 
 This afternoon I forward my boxes to Havre. 
 Thus you see I am actually making preparations 
 for my return. Will you be so kind to think of 
 that free ticket of which you spoke to me in St. 
 Paul, and for which I will be most obliged to you? 
 
 I have received, some days ago, Mrs. Prince's let- 
 ter, and also Charlotte's, for which please give 
 them my best thanks. Mrs. Prince and Charlotte 
 have given many interesting details which pleased 
 me very much. As I am at the last days of my 
 visit and have much visiting to do, I may not be 
 able to send her an answer, which I would like very 
 much to do. 
 
 I have heard almost nothing about our church 
 matters and feel some anxiety about them. The 
 Bishop has written to me but said very little 
 about that; however, I shall soon be in the run of 
 everything. I hope the strawberry festival has 
 proved a success. 
 
 We have here an intense heat — almost impos- 
 sible to sleep. We wake up as though we were 
 in a bath or in the river; in fact, baths are of very 
 little consequence when one is streaming the 
 whole day and the whole night. The wheat crop 
 has been very good; we need rain for the grape- 
 vine; otherwise it will spoil. 
 
 I am very thankful for the paper, as ever5rthing 
 that concerns St. Paul is of interest to me. 
 
 My kindest regards to Mrs. Prince, Mrs. Link, 
 
 [ 49 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 Mrs. Shawe and to all the children, and a kiss to 
 Johnnie and another, if you like, to my friend Mr. 
 Chemidlin. Remember me to the neighbors, and 
 believe me yours very truly and affectionately in 
 
 Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 V 
 
 8t. Paul, 7th Nov., 1870. 
 
 Miss Fanny Prince, 
 
 Convent of the Visitation, 
 Saint Louis. 
 
 My dear little Fanny : 
 
 How happily disappointed I was the other day 
 when I received your good little letter. I dared 
 not to hope for such good fortune, also I read it 
 with the utmost pleasure. It was so good of you, 
 dear Fannv, to write to me first before even I 
 wrote that, if I could, I would love you still more 
 for it. 
 
 I am glad to learn that you are not as lonesome 
 as I was afraid you would be. When you feel 
 low spirited turn your mind to God, tell Him your 
 little troubles, and He will console you. 
 
 Among your companions, always seek the best, 
 the most pious, so that you may be benefited by 
 their good example. But especially cling to 
 Mamie, and always consider her the best among 
 your friends: support each other, have no secrets 
 
 [ 50 ] 
 

 jN' • 
 
 .r' 
 
 
 $>''-' ■-•^■4- •'"-"•.-tlA:^ 
 
 'asj 
 
 x 
 
 :^. 
 
 
 
LETTERS 
 
 from one another and you will be as happy as you 
 can be away from your happiest, sweetest home. 
 
 Study as diligently as you can, improve every 
 opportunity, and I hope that it will not always be 
 necessary to banish you away from your dear par- 
 ents and friends for the sake of education. 
 
 Of course you know all about the fair, and how 
 faithfully dear Charlotte and Nettie have worked 
 for the little orphans: may our good God reward 
 them by many blessings. 
 
 Goodbye, my dear child. Believe me yours very 
 affectionately in the hearts of Jesus and Mary, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 VI 
 
 8t. Paul, 17th Jan., 1877. 
 
 Miss Nettie Prince, 
 
 Convent of the Visitation, 
 St. Louis. 
 
 My dear child Nettie: 
 
 It seems so long since you left us that I feel I 
 must write. Yesterday I was at the house and 
 learned that you had written and were enjoying 
 your visit very much. It would be superfluous 
 for me to say how gratified I am to see the object 
 of your journey so successfully attained. Make 
 the most of it, dear Nettie, and although we miss 
 you very much here, no one would be so selfish as 
 
 [ 51 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 to deprive you on his account of even one hour of 
 the enjoyment you have so painfully earned. 
 
 Father and mother, and also grandma and all 
 are very well, and, although all is very quiet at 
 home, every one thinks of you and looks with a 
 longing desire for your return. 
 
 I wish your mother were with you, for I believe 
 that it would be good for her. She does not go out 
 at all and remains too much with her own thoughts. 
 
 Our sewing circle is enlarging. Yesterday, we 
 had about a dozen of persons, comprising quite a 
 number of young ladies. I am very glad to see 
 them take an interest and pleasure in doing that 
 good work. The choir goes on as usual, but 
 your absence is very much felt. I wish you could 
 find some nice easy masses with plenty of choruses 
 in them, so that we may do away with many of 
 our solos. I do not say with all, but with many, 
 as it would be more according to the spirit of church 
 music. 
 
 How is dear little Em? Does she enjoy herself 
 also? I hope she does and helps to make things 
 lively all around. And yourself — how is it about 
 yourself? Are all those cobwebs swept out of 
 your mind? Write me a little letter and tell me 
 how it is. 
 
 Now I see that I ought to close this letter as I 
 am coming to the end of the paper. Give my 
 kindest regards to Sister Evangelista and to 
 
 [ 52 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 Mother and the other sisters, and last but not 
 least, to oiir little Em. 
 
 Yours very affectionately in Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 VII 
 
 St. Paul, 14th March, 1883. 
 
 Mrs. M. R. Morgan, 
 San Francisco. 
 
 My Dear Child in Christ: 
 
 I received your kind note of the 28th February, 
 a few days after my return from New Mexico. I 
 had secretly entertained the hope of being able to 
 offer you a surprise, but Father Tissot did not feel 
 willing to go so far, and as I could not leave him 
 I had to make the sacrifice of my visit, at least for 
 the present. Father Tissot is much improved from 
 his journey, but I fear that he will go to work and 
 lose more than he has gained. Today, Mrs. Gordon 
 was buried; last Sunday, her mother, Mrs. Bor- 
 up; the Sunday before, General Simpson. Since 
 then they have received the news of the death of 
 Captain Hartley. So you may see how much that 
 family is afflicted ! I have received this week a let- 
 ter from Mrs. McQuillan, dated from Naples. They 
 were all well and intended to go to Rome, where 
 they will spend the Holy Week. By this time 
 you have seen the Beaupres. If they are yet in 
 
 [53 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 Francisco, please remember me kindly to them 
 when you see them. 
 
 Father Keane, my assistant, does admirably well, 
 and I wish I could say the same of the choir, but 
 I cannot, for it is about entirely demorahzed, and 
 if something is not done very soon, we will have 
 none at all. Today I received a letter from the 
 General, which interested me very deeply. Please 
 tell him that I shall answer very soon, and also give 
 him my kindest regards, also to Wilfred and Mabel. 
 You may be sure that my visit is only postponed 
 and that I will take the very first opportunity to 
 cross over to California. You are wrong when 
 you make excuses for the manner your first letter 
 was written. Let me assure you that I never was 
 better pleased with a letter than I was with that 
 one. It was so much yourself that I could hear 
 you talk, and if you wish to please me you will 
 write many like that one. 
 
 Now, I remain your sincere friend in Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 [ 54 ] 
 

 J 
 
 X 
 
 cc 
 
 
LETTERS 
 
 VIII 
 
 Havr; 14th Oct., 1889. 
 
 Mrs. J. J. PIiLL, 
 
 Ninth and Canada Sts., 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hiix: 
 
 I know that both you and Mr. Hill will be 
 pleased to know that we are safely landed in 
 Havre, and pai-ticularly that Mr. Chemidlin has 
 very much improved in bodily health and also in 
 disposition. It is true he was not seasick ; this may 
 account for the latter in a measure. I have been 
 able to limit him to about five cigars a day; this 
 is still too much, and I told him this morning that 
 he would have to do better. True, we have five 
 meals a day, for that barbarian called a lunch a 
 meal. I suppose to have his smoke. Well, enough 
 of backbiting, although he is writing at the same 
 table and, I am sure, not sparing me. 
 
 We had the finest trip on the ocean that could 
 be desired, and not a particle of seasickness, as the 
 five meals a day and the same number of smokes 
 will tell. We had some very nice company, 
 but not much fun, owing to too many being sick. 
 There is one drawback about this fast traveling — 
 it is that as soon as you begin to know people and 
 to enjoy their society it is time to part. However, 
 
 [ 55 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 we did not come for this kind of pleasure; we left 
 it at home and hope to find it there when we return. 
 
 We called at the Albemarle when in New York, 
 but Mr. Hill had left and we had not the pleasure 
 of saying good-bye once more. Today after break- 
 fast we intend to ride around and see Havre — we 
 shall also take a walk in the quaint, narrow streets 
 of the old portion of the city and will, no doubt, 
 see many things of interest. Tomorrow morning 
 we shall leave for Paris and take in the big show. 
 My nephew will meet us there, probably next Sun- 
 day, so as to spend a week with us in Paris. Then 
 on to Lyons, and Mr. Chemidlin to Lorraine. 
 After a couple weeks we will meet again and then 
 go South. 
 
 I hope and pray that you may all be well dur- 
 ing the coming winter. Please remember us most 
 kindly to Mr. Hill and the children, also to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Samuel Hill, without forgetting the baby, 
 as far as she can be impressed. It was so kind of 
 Mr. and Mrs. S. Hill to come to see me before I 
 left. 
 
 With best wishes for your welfare, I remain very 
 respectfully yours, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 [ 56 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 IX 
 
 Paris, 20th Oct., 1889. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hiix: 
 
 While Uncle and my nephew are dissipating to- 
 day—Sunday—at the Exposition, I improve the 
 time to write a few letters. You will be pleased to 
 hear of the wonderful improvement in Mr. Chemid- 
 lin's condition ; he has lost all that sallow color, has 
 a splendid appetite, and as for walking, he is a per- 
 fect machine and hardly ever complains of being 
 tired. The only question with me is whether, when 
 the excitement is over, there will be no reaction. I 
 watch him, although I do not say anything, and 
 when I want him to rest I tell him that I am tired. 
 Nothing pleases him better than to think that I 
 tire sooner than he does, and really, sometimes I do. 
 
 We have visited the Exposition perhaps ten 
 times already and yet have seen so little! Not, 
 indeed, for lack of objects to be seen, but on ac- 
 count of their too great number. What has struck 
 us most with wonderment has been the "Galerie 
 des Machines." O, how much I would like to have 
 Mr. Hill with us, for he would be so much better 
 able to appreciate all that is exhibited there, par- 
 ticularly in the way of railroad machinery, etc. 
 The next thing was the Eiffel Tower, which is not 
 only a feat of iron architecture, but also a work of 
 art in its form and structure. You cannot have 
 
 [ 57] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 any idea of its elegance of form and beauty of pro- 
 portion unless you are close to it — all the cuts we 
 have do it no justice. The next portion which in- 
 terests me most is the Military Department. There 
 one can see everything from the most formidable 
 engines of modern warfare to the minutest details 
 for the maintenance of our army in campaign. I 
 have not yet visited the galleries of painting and 
 sculpture, nor the various industrial departments, 
 which I intend to visit this week. 
 
 My nephew brought me a letter from Mrs. Good- 
 rich. She is living in Paris, at Passy, and I have 
 appointed next Tuesday to go to see her. I called 
 to see Tiny Kelly ; if you have ever seen a girl glad 
 to see somebody, you should have seen her. I am 
 going there tomorrow afternoon, expect to meet 
 Miss Mealey, and after will write to the family. 
 
 I have found it very difficult to get settled in 
 Paris and have concluded to go to the Pension 
 where we had stopped before. 1'hey give us break- 
 fast at 9 o'clock, dinner at 7. Between those hours 
 we have all the time we want to see and get tired 
 seeing. Of course, we make a station of some 
 restaurant in the middle of the day. One thing 
 has struck me most affreeablv in connection with 
 the Exposition: that is the conveniences and com- 
 forts that have been provided for sightseers. 
 Whether it rains or shines, vou have immense awn- 
 ings to shelter you. Chairs and benches are pro- 
 
 [ 58 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 vided all over to rest when tired. Four orchestras 
 discourse music while you take meals or refresh- 
 ments near the Palais de 1' Industrie, and every- 
 thino- necessary seems to have been foreseen. 
 
 Please give our kindest regards to Mr. Hill and 
 also to the children and to Mr. Samuel Hill and 
 Mary, and believe me. 
 
 Yours very sincerely, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 X 
 
 To'p of Eiffel Tower, 
 Oct. 21, 1889. 
 
 Miss Clara Hill, 
 St Paul. 
 
 My dear Clara: 
 
 When I say "Top of Eiffel Tower" it is to keep 
 my word to you to write from that eminence. But 
 it was impossible — too crowded. Think a little, 
 nearly five million people have made themselves 
 proud by going there; but Father Caillet did not. 
 We started together; at the first story he was yel- 
 low; at the second he had turned green, and then 
 he would go no further up, I suppose thinking that 
 his congregation had still further need of his serv- 
 ices. Well, the sky being perfectly clear, the sight 
 was beyond expression — 175 miles all around. 
 Half a dozen cities in view. And such a pano- 
 
 [ 59 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 rama! Not the least striking was the mass of hu- 
 manity sliding, not walking, below, looking like 
 puppets; the horses, the size of dogs. 
 
 Yesterday, Sunday, I went to see the crowd — 
 350,000 within the grounds. You remember Third 
 Street when Cleveland came to St. Paul. Imagine, 
 then, what it is here. A most good humored 
 crowd, speaking all languages, even French. No 
 coarseness anywhere, no swearing (I have heard 
 but one oath since in Paris ) , and not one drunken 
 man. And to see the amount of wine thev drink 
 at their meals, men and women alike! As for 
 whiskey, I think there is none in Paris. No strong 
 liquors are drunk except a thimbleful of brandy 
 in coffee after dinner. That is what we do. The 
 pictures give you no idea of what the Exposition 
 is. Oh! I wish I were rich! What beautiful ex- 
 pensive objects I would bring you. This morning 
 I saw a pot of china wild-flowers, single poppies, 
 ragged sailors, oats, grasses, more delicate than 
 any artificial flowers 1 ever saw. I wanted to ask 
 the price but when I saw the next, a modest little 
 bouquet, marked "bought by the Bey of Tunis," I 
 thought that if a sovereign could afford to buy 
 only a little posy, I ought not to buy one costing 
 a hundred times more. T had intended it for you. 
 Thank me. 
 
 We saw America's exhibits. They are no credit 
 to the U. S. The smallest southern republic 
 
 [ 60] 
 

 
 
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LETTERS 
 
 makes a much better show. Tiffany and Edison 
 have saved the country's reputation. Tiffany had 
 the highest award, one grand prize, besides four 
 gold medals. As for Edison, he has received the 
 cross of Commander of the Legion of Honor, the 
 highest given to foreigners. He and Eiffel are 
 the two great men of the Exposition. 
 
 Oh, dear! I wish you were here. I can't de- 
 scribe what I see. Truly if Adam and Eve had had 
 such a beautiful place to live in, they would have 
 thought twice before eating the apple. 
 
 I suppose you wish to know how my health is, 
 since you think I came for my health. Well, my 
 yellow skin is gone, it has turned into healthful 
 pink; I eat three heavy meals a day, and want 
 more. On the steamer I ate four meals, and 
 Father Caillet five. I did not miss one during the 
 whole passage, which was splendid. Consequent- 
 ly, I am growing fat, and Father Caillet, fatter. 
 He looks now like "un petit abbe" of old. 
 
 Tonight we go to hear Faust at the Grand Op- 
 era. Don't you wish you were here! 
 
 Give my respects and love to all, not forgetting 
 Mr. and Mrs. Sam. 
 
 Your affectionate old slave, 
 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 [ 61 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XI 
 
 Lyons, 29th Oct., 1889. 
 
 Miss Elsie Shawe, 
 
 East Ninth Street, 
 Opposite St. Mary's Church — St. Paue. 
 
 Dear Elsie: 
 
 I have received both your letters and also that 
 of Mary. I cannot tell you how pleased I was in 
 reading them as the)'^ brought me back to home. It 
 does one so much good to feel that he is not forgot- 
 ten by those he has left behind, and whose friend- 
 ship he prizes so dearly. Yes, Elsie, you can nev- 
 er realize how much I think of you, how I appre- 
 ciate you for your untiring devotedness to all the 
 work I am interested in. Such a friend as you 
 are to me, all tlie sights and pleasure in the world 
 could never make me forget. I have visited the 
 grandest Exposition. Its proportions surpass all 
 I could imagine of the kind. One scarcely needs 
 to travel after being there. For not only do you 
 find all the modern works of art, all that man's 
 genius has produced in the way of machinery, all 
 that exists in the way of luxury and comfort, etc., 
 but also all the various specimens of the human 
 race. It is another Pentecost, only the Holy Spirit 
 is not there, but another! No, not even in the 
 churches we have visited! One would almost 
 think that the spirit of God has deserted them, 
 
 [ 62 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 there is such coldness and lack of devotion in the 
 services. We were one Sunday in the Madeleine 
 and the other in the Trinity, and heard not a word 
 from the pulpit. Why? I do not know. It 
 seemed as though the priests were afraid to speak 
 or even to offer the Divine Mysteries, and that the 
 briefest way was the best. We attended a solemn 
 High Mass which took 45 minutes, and a low Mass 
 which took 20. Oh, give me St. Paul, and in St. 
 Paul St. Mary's, and even if I am an interested 
 party, I will say that I would not exchange our 
 humble church and our choir for the grandest 
 church in Paris. 
 
 Uncle has gone to Lorraine, and my nephew and 
 I have come down to Lyons. It is raining, and I 
 am not sorry, for it keeps me in and enables me to 
 write to you. Then again, it rests me as we have 
 been on our feet enough to tire any kind of feet. 
 My nephew's wife is very lovely, and so kind to 
 me. The children are made of quicksilver and gun- 
 powder, but are the most interesting and preco- 
 cious children I have met with. They, of course, 
 think everything of their Uncle, too much in fact, 
 as they have already worn out my face with kisses. 
 
 When Mr. Chemidlin comes from his visit we 
 shall, after a few days spent with him in Lyons, 
 proceed south, and on with the second part of our 
 journey, which is Spain. Uncle asked me to re- 
 
 [ 63 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 member him to yourself and family and promised 
 to write. 
 
 Give my love to all at home; remember me to 
 Mr. McLachlan ; tell Fr. Conry that I have found 
 his letter in Lyons, and will write to him, and give 
 my kindest regards to all the members of St. 
 Mary's choir. Tell Mrs. Smith that I do not for- 
 get her, and that my nephew's wife is delighted 
 with the nice little cup I brought from your house, 
 and wishes me to thank you for her. She finds it 
 to be a little wonder. To your dear self, you know 
 that I remain your very affectionate in Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 XII 
 
 Grand Hotel de Paris, 
 
 Madrid, 
 24th November, 1889. 
 
 Mrs. James J. Hill, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hill : 
 
 We are now in Madrid after a very pleasant 
 journey; and, notwithstanding tliat Mr. Chemidlin 
 still complains of cold, I am of the opinion that it 
 is with him rather a personal matter and not the 
 fault of the country so much. To say that I am 
 well would not be correct, for I am better than 
 
 [ 64 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 well and able to enjoy everything, even the dis- 
 comforts unavoidable in a journey of this kind. 
 
 We enjoyed our stay at Lourdes exceedingly. 
 We had very fine weather and a most agreeable 
 ramble in the mountains. But above all, there is 
 something so soothing and refreshing in the mem- 
 ory of the events which took place there, and 
 which is kept green by the sight of the faith and 
 devotion which are displayed constantly, that one 
 cannot help being influenced thereby. 
 
 Madrid is at first somewhat disappointing, hav- 
 ing a common appearance; but after a closer in- 
 spection, one likes it better. Its parks and many 
 of the new residences are perfectly beautiful. As 
 to its galleries of paintings, they surpass any oth- 
 er collection in the world for the profusion of its 
 gems of the old and best masters. Of course, we 
 are not able to criticize and to judge, and I am 
 glad we are not, for we might well spend all our 
 time in the Royal Museum and then we would be 
 only beginning. 
 
 Tomorrow we go to the Escurial, about thirty 
 miles from here, and will return in the evening. We 
 intend to leave on Friday for south Spain, and, 
 after visiting some of the most interesting points, 
 will sail for Algiers. 
 
 We frequently speak of Mr. Hill, yourself and 
 the children, and wish he could see the same things 
 we see, as he would be able to enjoy them even 
 
 [ 65 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 more than we do, and would be able to appreciate 
 them so much better. 
 
 Mrs. Hill, I am very glad to have undertaken 
 and made this tour, on account of the physical ben- 
 efit which I have every reason to expect from it, 
 and also for making me realize how much I think 
 of the friends I have left in St. Paul, and how hard 
 it would be to induce me to leave them again, even 
 with the most favorable expectations. 
 1 remain very sincerely yours, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 XIII 
 
 Alhambra, Nov. 30, 1S89. 
 
 Miss Clara Hill, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Cara Mia: 
 
 Truly the land of enchantment. Imagine a pal- 
 ace of the Arabian Nights at the top of a low 
 mountain, itself at the foot of the snow-covered 
 Sierra Nevada, the highest part of it twenty miles 
 off, but which seems only two miles. On the 
 north side, far below, and joined to the Alhambra 
 by an avenue surpassing any at Versailles, white, 
 glittering Grenada with its numerous old minarets 
 and towers, and beyond, an immense plain sur- 
 rounded by the Sierra Elvira, dotted all over with 
 white farm houses; with Santa Fe, the headquar- 
 
 [ 66 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 ters of Ferdinand and Isabella during the siege of 
 Grenada, in full view. Add to that, such an at- 
 mosphere as Corot delighted to paint. No wonder 
 the Moors shed tears of blood when they had to 
 leave this earthly paradise, and that so many of 
 them preferred becoming Christians rather than 
 return to Africa. No one can describe the Alham- 
 bra, and, of coiu-se, I won't attempt it. We had 
 our beautiful countenances taken, leaning against 
 the Court of Justice and looking at the fountain 
 of lions, with the Court of the Abencerages on our 
 left. For the last two days we have been going 
 from enchantment to enchantment until I am 
 bursting, and this rigmarole is the consequence. 
 But Father Caillet has not his fill yet, and he has 
 gone for a last walk whilst I am discharging my 
 enthusiasm at you. His company is very pleasant, 
 of course, but how many times within the last two 
 days I have wished to have some one of you to 
 rave with me. He is so quiet in his enjoyment 
 that I am disgusted with him. It is selfish to en- 
 joy things within yourself, without imparting 
 your delight to others. When you make your 
 "grand tour" (may I be with you then) this will be 
 of all places the one to visit in May. I am told 
 this is the worst time to visit here, and yet now 
 pomegranates, figs, oranges, olives, hang on the 
 trees. Think a little. Hedges of cacti and aloes 
 ten feet high. One of myrtle nine feet thick and 
 
 [ 67] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 five feet high, trimmed smooth as a wall. I do not 
 know which to admire most, the work of man or the 
 work of nature. Now, I am going to tell you 
 something which must not be repeated, and which 
 you, not being yet a full grown woman, won't re- 
 peat. Father Caillet and I had a gypsy dance for 
 our special benefit. There are between four and 
 five thousand Gitanos at Grenada, living mainly 
 m the inside of a mountain in very clean grottoes. 
 The Gitanos are far prettier than the Spanish 
 girls, and the way they threw kisses at Father 
 Caillet and told him in their beautiful Spanish 
 that he was beautifid, made me jealous. But the 
 best of all were Father Caillet's blushes. But my 
 punishment came. Until then, I had been boss in 
 our wanderings. He has since then taken the 
 chief command. 
 
 Our trip in Spain was much colder than I ex- 
 pected. It is a dreary country, to say the least. 
 Madrid resembles all other capitals, but her gal- 
 lery of paintings is the first in the world. There is 
 hardly one that is not a masterpiece. Would not 
 your father revel in that gallery! Never any- 
 where have I seen such beautiful children as in 
 Madrid. We were on the Prado on Sunday af- 
 ternoon and it was a delight to watch them. I tell 
 you, Walter would just hold his own amongst 
 them, and that is all. As for the young girls, well, 
 all I have to say is that Charlotte would look slim 
 
 [ 68 ] 
 
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 QD 
 
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LETTERS 
 
 alongside of them. The fact is, I have hardly seen 
 a beautiful woman since I left America, except at 
 Nimes in the south of France, where almost every 
 woman you meet could sit for a model to an artist. 
 
 The Escurial ! Brrrr — only to think of it freezes 
 me to the bones. A tomb of granite. A city 
 by itself, with more than thirty courts, built like a 
 gridiron. And the church — the noblest pile I ever 
 saw, but not a statue, not an ornament; a stupen- 
 dous cross cut in the rock. It crushed you, and you 
 leave it with your heart in your boots. And as 
 you get out, what do you see far below? A valley 
 covered with millions of white granite boulders, 
 with here and there black looking ohve trees, which 
 at that distance look like hooded monks contem- 
 plating death. We were glad to leave and we re- 
 turned to Madrid after dark. In the compartment 
 with us, in front of Father Caillet, was the Bishop 
 of Toledo. And what do you think Father Cail- 
 let did? Pie snored during the two hours it took 
 us to return (and, helas! I can tell you he can 
 snore as no man can ) , and not only snored but kept 
 his mouth open to its fullest extent. And that in 
 front of a Bishop! That man has no human re- 
 spect. 
 
 From Madrid we went to Cordova, the most 
 Moorish city in Spain. There is hardly any street 
 where two carriages can cross each other, so the 
 streets are marked in such a way that carriages go 
 
 [ 69] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 only in one direction. True, carriages are very 
 scarce — all donkeys. The mosque is a magnificent 
 building. Think only, over one thousand col- 
 umns, all marble, brought from all parts of the 
 world. It is a forest. 
 
 Cadiz, Dec. 5th. 
 
 Waiting for the boat to take us to Tangiers. 
 
 It was too bad. The cathedral was all scaf- 
 folded. An earthquake sometime ago shook it 
 very badly. So all we could see in the capital of 
 Andalusia was the Alcazar, which is not equal to 
 the Alhambra, by a long shot, as James would say. 
 So we hurried to Cadiz as fast as possible, follow- 
 ing the valley of the beautiful Guadalquiver. The 
 cleanest, neatest, prettiest city in Spain, and that 
 is all. 
 
 December (lost the date), Tangiers. 
 
 The approach very picturesque, rising on both 
 sides of a gully. The houses as white as snow. But 
 the dirty, nasty, stinking Moors — Pouah! We 
 left two days ago and I have yet the stench in my 
 nostrils. The widest streets are just about wide 
 enough for two donkeys to pass each other, you, 
 and another one. 1 was going along when came 
 towards me a truly splendid Jewess (the only good 
 looking people here), straight as an arrow, grand 
 figure, looking proudly straight before her; as she 
 passed I turned to see her as long as possible. 
 Well, T turned and came literally face to face 
 
 [ 70 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 with a camel. The camel was not the most aston- 
 ished of the two, but my nose was the worst of the 
 three. 
 
 The JNToorish women are horrible to look at — 
 each a large bundle of clothes. They don't always 
 hide their faces, but their legs are bare to the 
 knees; such clubs! And their feet!! "Horribihs, 
 ingens." As for the men, they are the worst gang 
 of ruffians I ever saw. To think of the builders 
 of the Alhambra and of the Alcazar, and their de- 
 cendants! Allah on Allah, Mohammed re(;oul 
 Allah. 
 
 December 10th, Oibraltar. 
 
 Yqty neat city. It reminds one of a French 
 provincial city. Nothing to see but guns and 
 forts, forts and guns. But what beautiful walks 
 up and down that rock! Imagine a solid stone, 
 two miles long, not a quarter of a mile wide and 
 rising to 1400 feet. Oh! the flowers in the parks. 
 It is gorgeous. But the best is, that Fall and 
 Spring flowers are mixed together. The rock it- 
 self is clothed with the most beautiful wild-flowers, 
 amongst which the scarlet geranium hanging in 
 festoons, the narcissus, the sweet alyssum and 
 many others that I never saw. 
 
 Well! We leave tomorrow for Malaga, and 
 then Melilla in Morocco, then Oran, Algiers, Tun- 
 is, Malta and Cairo. We are going to hurry so as 
 
 [ 71 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 to be at Bethlehem for midnight Mass at Christ- 
 mas. But I am afraid we won't make it. 
 
 The weather on the Mediterranean now is the 
 same as it is in Minnesota in June. Not too 
 warm. But have I not been cold, though, since I 
 left New York! In France, until I got south of 
 Lyons I did nothing but shiver. In the south of 
 France, it was just pleasant, and at Lourdes, at the 
 foot of the Pyrenees, the gorges of the mountain 
 were full of wild-flowers. But when once in Spain, 
 I shivered worse than ever. But now I am in 
 Paradise, and Father Caillet is in a sweat all the 
 time, so he is growing thin at last. As for me, you 
 would hardly know me, if it was not for my nose. 
 What happiness to have good health! Almost all 
 the sour lines are gone out of my face. We have 
 had a great deal of enjoyment and expect 
 much more. And yet, sometimes in the long 
 evenings I catch myself longing for St. Paul, 
 which shows that one cannot be entirely happy. 
 
 And now, my dear conscience, I hope to find a 
 good, long letter from you at Algiers where we ex- 
 pect to find lots of them. Since we left Madrid 
 we have heard nothing from home. I hope my 
 letter from Paris did not bother you too much to 
 read. Give my love to all. 
 
 Yours with affection, 
 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 [ 72 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XIV 
 
 Grand Hotel de Paris, 
 . Cadiz, 
 5th Dec, 1889. 
 
 Mrs. J. J. Hill, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hill: 
 
 We will not be able to say a great deal about 
 Spain, our stays in the various places having been 
 shortened by the severity of the weather. Another 
 drawback is the ignorance of the language, which 
 prevents one from being with the people and see- 
 ing more of their inner life. On the whole, I think 
 that there is much to like about the Spaniards, but 
 that they are very poorly governed; and particu- 
 larly that the poor classes are not helped to help 
 themselves. There is much too much begging, but 
 even in doing it the Spaniard preserves some of 
 his self-respect. I was very sorry to hear of the 
 accident to James, but am glad to judge that there 
 is nothing serious for the future, as he continues 
 with his studies. Please remember me to both him 
 and Louis. Mr. Chemidlin is much improved and 
 I trust that he will continue to do well. I be- 
 lieve that the trip will not only have contributed 
 to his happiness but will add to his life and improve 
 his comfort. Tomorrow we will take the steamer 
 for Tangiers, Algiers and Tunis. At that point, 
 the journey to Egypt and the Holy Land will be 
 
 [ 73 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 decided, one way or the other. Much will depend 
 on Mr. Chemidlin's condition of health, and what 
 we may learn about advantages and disadvantages 
 of the trip. For myself, I would rather linger in 
 Italy and the south of France than rush among the 
 Arabs and wade through the sands of Africa, and 
 rest riding on mules and asses. But Uncle loves 
 the prospect. I have only to hope for him that it 
 is not distance that lends enchantment. On the 
 whole, I am very glad to have visited Spain even 
 imperfectly and would not have given up the trip 
 notwithstanding its drawbacks, had I known them 
 beforehand. This part is now over and I am glad 
 of it because it is that less time that I shall remain 
 away from my friends; for I have often felt lone- 
 some after them, and it sometimes takes the recall- 
 ing of the motives which moved me on to this trip 
 not to make me feel an idler, and even with all 
 this I do feel one anyway. 
 I remain very sincerely yours in Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 With mille biens choses on the part of Uncle. 
 
 [ 74 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XV 
 
 Tangier, Mo>-occo, 
 7th Dec, 1889. 
 
 JMiss Shawe, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 My Dear Children : 
 
 This letter, will, I hope, reach you by Xmas, and 
 bear to you my most cordial greetings. Yes, I 
 wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New 
 Year. First of all to your dear Mother; let me 
 hope and pray that she may be able to so arrange 
 matters that she may enjoy peace with more com- 
 fort. If what I wish does happen, I know that 
 you will all be first sharers of those earthly favors. 
 
 We are here in Tangier and do hope to leave it 
 tomorrow after Mass. I can only repeat what I 
 have said to Fr. Conry about this place. When 
 you see it from the bay it presents a very pleasing 
 appearance; its white houses topped with nice flat 
 roofs, all rising one above the other, seem to invite 
 you to enter its walls; but all this is fraud and de- 
 ception; no sooner you enter its streets so-called 
 than you feel most sadly disappointed. The filth 
 of the street, or rather lane, is only surpassed by 
 that of the human beings who are endeavoring to 
 fight their way through, with scores of donkeys 
 loaded with stones, wood, vegetables, water, etc., 
 etc. Then the smell, oh, what a stench! Some- 
 
 [ 75 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 thing truly indescribable and never to be forgotten. 
 What is more strange is that every one I have seen 
 who has been there has been as anxious to leave as 
 we are, and yet would not have missed it for the 
 disagi-eeableness. Neither would we! We have 
 seen what we shall meet nowhere upon our journey, 
 — the true Oriental life, not as we have it in ro- 
 mances but in reality; and in the midst of all this, 
 you meet the real patriarchal life we read of in the 
 Bible. I do not mean in religion, but in customs, 
 looks, habits, etc. Yesterday and today we loiter- 
 ed through the streets and market places, losing 
 our way through the maze of lanes, but discovering 
 something new every time. It was really more in- 
 teresting than picture galleries, and I suppose 
 more bearable because we are getting a little used 
 to the drawbacks I have spoken of. 
 
 I received Alice's letter, and I had answered a 
 few days before a telegram which her letter ex- 
 plained. I did not write but will before the awful 
 event takes place. This letter is for you all, and 
 I beg of you to excuse its incoherence, as I am 
 writing it under difficulty, the room being occupied 
 by people who distract me with their talk. 
 
 Tomorrow we leave for Gibraltar, where we will 
 wait for the steamer that is to take us to Oran, 
 where we will take the cars for Algiers. We ex- 
 pect to be there for tomorrow week and to remain 
 for sometime to rest if the weather is pleasant. 
 
 [ 76] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 Uncle sends mille choses, and is very well, although 
 lonesome today. He wants ease and sunshine, also 
 the beauties of nature — and such are not met every- 
 where nor every day on a journey like this. As 
 for me, I find what I sought, viz., perfect rest from 
 my usual work, and although I often long for it 
 and my home and friends, I am perfectly satisfied 
 to remain till the time is over. 
 
 Please give my best greetings for a Merry Xmas 
 to Mr. McLachlan and all the members of the 
 choir, and tell Mr. Nilson how thankful I am that 
 he will find it convenient to remain an active mem- 
 ber of St. Mary's choir. 
 
 Mary, I was very glad to receive your letter but 
 missed the photographs that were not within. 
 Uncle, unfortunately, did not buy the kodak he in- 
 tended to buy, so he will have no pictures. 
 
 Once more, a Merry Xmas and a Happy New 
 
 Year! 
 
 Your friend and pastor, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 [ 77 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XVI 
 
 Algiers, December 18, 1889. 
 
 Mrs. James Markoe, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 My Dear Mary: 
 
 Here we are amongst Moors, Arabs, Jews, 
 Maltese, Turks, Spaniards and what not, all 
 screaming at the top of their voices, dressed in all 
 possible and impossible garments, fez, turbans of 
 all shapes and colors, stove-pipe hats, derbies, 
 straw-hats, and no hats, blankets, winding sheets, 
 rags and tags, swallow-tails and caftans, European 
 pants fitting close to the legs, Turkish pants, each 
 holding three bushels, and no pants. The women 
 covering their faces up to the eyes, with their legs 
 bare to the knees, and such monstrous legs ! On their 
 feet, sandals, baboushes, moccasins, and nothing. 
 And the pandemonium of languages! But if the 
 sight of the people gives you the nightmare, the 
 country is simply marvelous. Everything is green 
 as in Minnesota in July. Potatoes and all vege- 
 tables are being planted, are in bloom, are ripe. 
 And the flowers! Oh, the flowers!! Would not 
 your mother revel amongst them. Morning-glor- 
 ies, four o'clocks, the dear little double daisies, 
 scarlet geraniums, jonquils, narcissus, and hun- 
 dreds of others growing wild. And in the gardens, 
 such gorgeous sights! Rose trees as large as my 
 
 [ 78 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 legs, twenty feet high and covered with blooms. 
 And yet they tell me that this is winter — that we 
 should have come in February and March. 
 
 Biskra, Sahara Desert, December 21, 1889. 
 
 Just as I was writing the above, Mr. Moryo, my 
 sister-in-law's cousin, came in for us and we have 
 been on the go ever since. Algiers is a very beau- 
 tiful city and extremely interesting. Well, we 
 had to leave it and take to the Kabylia mountains, 
 a ride of two days in the cars, the train running 
 nearly up to the snow line. First, tropical plants, 
 then olive trees only, then cedars, then, on reaching 
 the plateau, nothing but bare fields, and rocks with- 
 out a flower. It is a most wonderful country. The 
 Kabyles are quite different from the Arabs. The 
 women do not cover their faces as the Moors do. 
 Their clothing is merely a long piece of woolen 
 cloth Mith a hole in the middle for the head and 
 gathered under their arms; the rest falls in front 
 and behind, so that when the wind blows — well, im- 
 agine the rest. They are a fine set — Father Caillet 
 does not think so. But what a sight when we emerg- 
 ed from the mountains, through a short tunnel (a 
 gate, it looked like) into the desert! On one side, 
 bleak mountains, low clouds, rain, raw wind; one 
 minute after, a beautiful clear sky, immense date- 
 tree fields, and a vast expanse of desert. It was a 
 dream. 
 
 What do you think of going to Mass in the Sa- 
 
 [ 79 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 hara? It is what we did yesterday, Sunday. And 
 a beautiful little church they have here. The city 
 is in the first oasis, with over one hundred thousand 
 date-trees, and as it takes very few trees to feed 
 a family, the Arab population is large. What fun 
 it is to wander and lose one's way in the innumer- 
 able irrigation ditches, — curs barking at you, 
 children staring, or running to their mammas, ur- 
 chins following you until you give them backshish, 
 women looking slightly from behind their face cov- 
 ering, the men scowling, or appearing indifferent. 
 I wish some one of you were here to enjoy the 
 sights. 
 
 I believe I have not written since Lourdes. I 
 was rather disappointed with Spain. True, the 
 crossing of the Pyrenees was grand, but the other 
 mountains were very dreary and so the immense 
 plains. But the cities were very interesting, es- 
 pecially Cordova and Grenada. Gibraltar was as 
 I expected, but Tangiers, in Morocco! Oh, the 
 nasty stinking city and people! Pouah! I have 
 the stench in my nostrils yet. But yet all is very 
 picturesque. But in Algeria the natives are much 
 better in every sense. They are becoming civihzed. 
 They work in the city and country. There are 
 lawyers, doctors, rich merchants amongst them, 
 even officers with the cross of honor. And how 
 grandly the better classes wear their graceful cos- 
 tumes! Unfortunately, we saw no women of the 
 
 [ 80 ] 
 
^^ -^«<^:^ — ' 
 
LETTERS 
 
 better class in the streets. They are entirely con- 
 fined in the harems, and men are not allowed there. 
 
 Well, we start tomorrow for Constantine, and 
 then Tunis, where we will take the steamer for 
 Malta, and that will be the limit of our eastern 
 trip. I find that although my health has improved 
 greatly, yet the cause of my ill health remains, and 
 I have made up my mind to go and spend a month 
 at Carlsbad. I think that since I have undertaken 
 this expensive trip for my health, I ought to do all 
 I can to obtain that object. It breaks my heart 
 not to see Egypt and Jerusalem. But I have not 
 the time and the money to do all, so I will do the 
 most necessary. 
 
 Father Caillet agrees perfectly with me, and 
 thinks it is the best thing I can do. So we will do 
 Italy thoroughly, and then he will go to Lyons, 
 stay there a couple of weeks, and then come to meet 
 me at Carlsbad, whence we will start for Home, 
 through Germany, Belgium and Paris. So you 
 will see me sometime in April. 
 
 And now, my dear IVIary, I wish you all a Merry 
 Christmas and happy New Year. Give my love 
 to James and all, and kiss the babies for me. I 
 wish you could kiss the dear little one that is gone. 
 
 Your affectionate Uncle, 
 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 [ 81 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XVII 
 
 Tunis, 28th Dec, 1889. 
 
 Mrs. John S. Prince, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Prince : 
 
 My intention was to have written to you from 
 Biskra, but instead I sent some views from there, 
 hoping that it would be pleasing to see that in the 
 desert we still thought of our dear friends in St. 
 Paul. Since then we have visited Constantine and 
 Tunis. Yesterday was a precious day in every re- 
 spect. First, it was a lovely day. We had charming 
 weather. Then we made a most interesting ex- 
 cursion to Carthage. First of all, to the chapel 
 of St. Louis, erected on the spot where he died, a 
 victim to the disease which he had contracted in 
 waiting on his dying soldiers, struck with the 
 plague. Then T had the happiness of offering the 
 Holy Sacrifice, and Mr. Chemidlin that of waiting 
 on me at the altar. After breakfasting at the home 
 of the White Fathers in charge of the chapel, we 
 proceeded to visit their museum of archeology, con- 
 sisting entirely of objects found on the spot. It 
 was the most interesting portion of our excursion. 
 The Father who accompanied us was the collector 
 himself of those objects. There he read to us out 
 of those inscriptions, lamps, coins and statues, the 
 
 [ 82 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 history of the three periods of the famous city 
 which once made Rome, then the mistress of the 
 world, tremble. We saw Carthage as she was in her 
 glory, then the Carthage as rebuilt by the Ro- 
 mans, and, finally, the Christian Carthage. Thus 
 we were prepared to go amid the ruins that had 
 been laid open from the bosom of the earth where 
 they had lain concealed for centuries. Without 
 this preparation we would have seen only heaps of 
 stones, broken columns, remnants of walls, etc., 
 which we could not have understood. But thus 
 prepared, we could reconstruct that which once 
 was, and almost see Carthage. Add to this that the 
 spot is most charming. Situated on a promontory, 
 you have on one side a cape, and on the other, the 
 whole expanse of the sea, on another, a fine lake, 
 and, as a background, the last spurs of those moun- 
 tains of Atlas. What a splendid site! But now 
 instead of the great city, nothing but her burial 
 ground! We took our lunch at the foot of a cross 
 planted where the body of a martyr had been found, 
 and discoursed; you may well imagine the thoughts 
 which the scene before us caused to rush to our 
 minds. 
 
 Tomorrow we shall leave for Malta and thence 
 for Naples. We have given up the trip to Egypt 
 and Palestine, which would have proved too fatigu- 
 ing, and Uncle will, instead, take a season at Carls- 
 bad, while I will visit at Lyons. We will, of course, 
 
 [ 83 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 visit the principal cities of Ital5^ My health leaves 
 nothing to be desired, and I feel perfectly well, al- 
 though somewhat lonesome for my friends in St. 
 Paul, so much so, that were it not for the object I 
 had in view in leaving, viz., rest, I would be tempt- 
 ed to shorten the trip. But we will not. Mr. Che- 
 midhn has improved verj^ much, indeed, yet I feel 
 satisfied that the remedy has not reached the root 
 of his trouble and, therefore, have encouraged his 
 trip to Carlsbad. He is always cold and suffers 
 from over-fatigue and irregularities. You have 
 no idea how much of our thoughts and talk you and 
 your beloved family occupy. How often we say, 
 "Oh, how Mrs. Prince would enjoy this, and Fan- 
 ny and Grace." As for dear Mr. Prince, we know 
 also what he would hke, and say to one another 
 what we fancy he would himself say. Tell him 
 how pleased I was with the very kind and nice let- 
 ter he wrote me. Give my love to John, Fanny 
 and Grace, and when you write, remember me also 
 to Nettie and family and to dearest Emma. Con- 
 gratulate her for me on that little one God has 
 given her, and tell her that it will be one of the 
 pleasures of my return to make a visit to the new- 
 comer. With kindest regards to all, I remain very 
 sincerely yours in Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 [ 84 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XVIII 
 
 Naples, Jan. 12, 1890. 
 
 Miss Clara Hill. 
 My dear Clara: 
 
 Just returned from an excursion that will count 
 in my life. What I have seen will forever be im- 
 printed in my mind. Not even the Alhambra nor 
 the Sahara has made such an impression on me — 
 4000 feet above the sea — no great height to be sure, 
 but such a glorious view! First, below my feet, 
 a pandemonium of lava; below, villas, vineyards, 
 orange orchards; and then, far, far below, the ra- 
 vishing Campania, enclosed by more mountains, ex- 
 tending 75 miles away on the left, dotted with vil- 
 las, villages and cities, the whole looking like a blue 
 frozen sea, for we are so high that the atmosphere 
 below looks like our soft blue Minnesota skies. 
 Right in front, Naples rising in amphitheatre, and 
 on the left, the bay, looking also like blue ice, with 
 black dots here and there, like decoy ducks, but 
 which are the little sailing-boats which can be 
 counted by the hundreds. We turn around the 
 corner, and there another surprise takes your 
 breath away. The same lava, villas, orchards and 
 vineyards again, and then Pompeii, and then the 
 glorious bay closed by Capri, and on the left, 
 mountains springing from the water with Castella- 
 mare and Sorrento and numerous villages clinging 
 
 [ 85 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 to its base for protection. (Ouf I what an old fool 
 I am with my youthful enthusiasms. Stop that 
 now! don't laugh at me.) Anyway, if I did feel 
 a choking in my throat at the sudden view, a Rus- 
 sian lady fairly burst out crying, and her husband 
 fainted at the brink of the crater. Was it fright? 
 He said he was asthmatic. 
 
 The ride from Naples in a carriage to the cable 
 took us four delightful hours, and then the cable, 
 eight minutes of delightful or extremely painful 
 sensations, for the rise is 70 degrees I suppose, 
 twice as steep as St. Anthony's cable ascent*, and 
 then a quarter of an hour of easy zigzag road, and 
 then the hot, soft lava, sulphuric smoke all around, 
 which is not quite up to violet perfume, and then, 
 leaning on the arm of a guide, you pick your way 
 amongst the hot, yellow lava; you ascend about 20 
 or 30 feet without stumbling, if you can, and then, 
 Hell spouting fire and brimstone and stones sever- 
 al hundred feet high, with loud explosions. I did 
 not stay long, for fear my hat might get hurt. 
 Father Caillet would not come at all, thinking, I 
 suppose, his life was more valuable than mine. 
 
 I do not know whence I wrote to you last, but I 
 know that I wrote to the boys from Malta telling 
 them all about Africa. And by the by, I hope 
 your mother has received, ere now, the little basket 
 
 •Selby Hill. 
 
 [ 86 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 of dates I sent her from the Sahara as a Christmas 
 card. 
 
 Our trip through Sicily was delightful. S\Ta- 
 cuse, especially, was full of interest. Think a 
 little. Ruins from the Greeks, Carthaginians, Ro- 
 mans and Spaniards. The most interesting is a 
 Greek theatre cut entirely in the rock. The audito- 
 rium is very large, composed of a semicircle of 
 seats cut in the rock. The amphitheatre, just like 
 a circus, and the stage, very large also, is at the 
 bottom. These are ruins that will last forever. 
 
 And then the flowers everywhere. At the foot 
 of Etna (which we, unfortunately, could not see) 
 it was simply gorgeous. Yellow flowers enough 
 to satisfy even your mother. And then the jon- 
 quils, and the narcissus, and the ranunculus, and 
 the wild fleurs-de-lys, much more beautiful than 
 any cultivated I have seen. Oh, dear, what delight! 
 Why have I not some young girl, whom I have in 
 my mind's eye now, with me to enjoy it. That 
 horrible Father Caillet I am perfectly disgusted 
 with. All I can get out of him is a kind of grunt 
 of satisfaction. And he doesn't even often make 
 me a present of that. Sometimes I feel like mur- 
 dering him for his want of outward feeling. What 
 are features given us for, if they are not to be the 
 mirror of our souls? (Ouf ! there is another explo- 
 sion. Have pity.) 
 
 To come here from Messina (where I had the 
 
 [ 87 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 sweetest oranges I ever ate) we took a roundabout 
 way. We followed the Mediterranean for a whole 
 night, a bright moonlight night, the sea without a 
 ripple, skirting the Calabrian mountains. I could 
 not sleep the whole night, it was a succession of 
 dreams ( there, there, that will do ! ) . In the morn- 
 ing, we crossed the range to Salerno, and then a 
 last range, through the most beautiful gorge I have 
 yet seen, to Naples. We did not meet any brig- 
 ands. They have been driven into the cities where 
 they lurk around hotels and museums. They don't 
 take your life, but they strip you of all your change. 
 They go under different names — guides, coachmen, 
 hotel waiters, maids, portiers, porters, boot-blacks, 
 railroad employees, etc., etc., etc. I was very much 
 disappointed in Naples itself. They are trying 
 to make it a modern citv, and have driven out the 
 true lazzaroni and left nothing but the out-and-out 
 beggar. Not even many of those. 
 
 I found your last letter here. No need to tell 
 you it gave me much pleasure. I hope with all 
 my heart that you will be perfectly well on my re- 
 turn, and that you will be able to go on with French 
 with renewed energy. For the more I go the 
 more I find French is the universal language. With 
 it you can go and be understood everywhere. In 
 Spain, Africa, Malta, Italy, it is all the same. At 
 table, they speak good, bad and indifferent French. 
 At the stations, in the cars, even the cabmen will 
 
 [ 88 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 give you no trouble if you speak French to them. 
 Going up the Vesuvius we were five. Two Rus- 
 sians, one German, one Italian and your humble 
 servant. Well, the German started in German ; no 
 one understood him. The Russian attempted a lit- 
 tle English. I took him up, helped him along a little 
 while, but it was no go. Finally, I asked him if he 
 could speak French. He did, better than I. His 
 wife did, beautifully; the Italian, pretty well; and 
 finally, that rascally Dutchman had to succumb, 
 and, I tell you, he spoke well. Moral — study 
 French. 
 
 Of course, we visited the ruins of Pompeii, or 
 rather Pompeii, for you cannot call it ruins. There 
 you see Roman life such as it was at the time of 
 the empire's glory. It is wonderful how little new 
 there is under the sun. Their household was very 
 much like ours. Their kitchen utensils were en- 
 tirely ours, their surgical instruments were very 
 little different, and their dentists used just as 
 wicked looking instruments as they use now. You 
 have to see these remains to understand that the 
 Romans led about the same life that we do. Only 
 they were nasty brutes. 
 
 Rome, Jan. 12th. 
 
 Father Caillet interrupted me in my last effu- 
 sions and saved you from another four page inflic- 
 tion, to go and take a ride to Sorrento. I won't 
 commence about it, I would never stop. What a 
 ride! Why are we alone to enjoy it? 
 
 [ 89 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 We are here for about two weeks, and then 
 northern Italy, and then Carlsbad — Lent after 
 carnival. Why, oh, why, doesn't Mary answer my 
 letter from the home of the Maid? She used to 
 care more for me. Give her and Precious and 
 Precious' father and all the family my love, and 
 receive the most profound respects from your ab- 
 ject slave, 
 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 XIX 
 
 Grand Hotel du Quirinal, 
 Rome, 
 27th January, 1890. 
 
 Miss Elsie Shawe. 
 Dear Elsie: 
 
 We have been so much on the go that time has 
 gone without my noticing that I ought to write. 
 In Naples I had a delightful little letter from dear 
 Alice, which I shall answer at the first opportunity. 
 We have been in Rome two weeks and were most 
 favored in every way. First, we were rceived in 
 private audience by the Holy Father. Think of 
 it, Elsie! To be alone with the Representative of 
 Christ, and to find in him the very kindest of fath- 
 ers. I can assure you that I did not miss the op- 
 portunity to obtain his blessing for myself and 
 for the works entrusted to me, and still more es- 
 pecially for those who have assisted me so faith- 
 
 [ 90 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 fully in attending to them. You know, dear child, 
 by this that you were present before my mind in 
 a most special manner, with Alice, your dear 
 Mother, sisters and brother. Yesterday, we at- 
 tended the ceremonies of the beatification of the 
 venerable Pompilius. I will not write about the 
 sight or the music. It was beautiful and grand. 
 Besides, we had Benediction of the Bl. Sacrament 
 given by the Holy Father himself. This is the 
 second time we had the opportunity to hear the 
 choir of the Sistine Chapel. Of this we will talk 
 when I am home, as also of the grand Vespers at 
 which I was present in the Church of St. Agnes. 
 
 Today we leave for Florence, where we will re- 
 main a few days. We are on our homeward trip 
 and I am glad of it, although it will take all the 
 time on the program to complete it, as Uncle in- 
 tends to spend one month in Carlsbad. During 
 that time 1 shall attend to business in France and 
 possibly go to meet him there; not for the baths! 
 Thank God, I have no use for them, as I am per- 
 fectly well, and have no need of the horrid treat- 
 ment, which I abominate anyway. Uncle is very 
 well but looks with horror at the trial before him, 
 and it would not take much persuasion to dissuade 
 him from going. This I will not do, but leave it 
 entirely to himself. 
 
 So, dear Alice is now Mrs. Mclver, yet always 
 Alice for me and never will be anything else. I 
 
 [ 91 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 am so glad because so hopeful that she will be hap- 
 py ! Everything leads to that belief, and certainly 
 I have prayed that it may be so or not at all. 
 
 You do not say much about matters, I mean 
 business matters at home; for I' suppose, there is 
 very little to say. Winter is a poor time to dis- 
 pose of property, but I hope that with spring there 
 may be better opportunities, and by availing your- 
 selves of them the ship may be sighted again, and 
 your mother freed from her many anxieties. 
 
 When you see Mrs. Smith, will you remember 
 me very kindly to her, and tell her that I remember 
 her at the right places. 
 
 Well, I have to prepare for the train, so will 
 close this letter with the assurance of the affection 
 with which I remain yours in Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 Kindest regards to all at home and inquiring 
 friends, especially to the one on the other side of 
 the street, to Mr. McLachlan, and all the members 
 of the choir. 
 
 [ 92 ] 
 
( 
 
 -^««1^-. 
 ^!*».. 
 
 GERTRUDE HILL, 1889 
 
 GRACE PRINCE, 189G 
 
 WALTER HILL, 1889 
 
 ALICE SHAWE, 1889 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XX 
 
 LyoTU, lit March, 1890. 
 
 Deak Mrs. Hill: 
 
 Your very kind letter came this morning just 
 as I was debating with myself whether or not I 
 would go down town. The matter was settled with- 
 out further consideration. I am glad to hear that 
 you are all well, and that the influenza has spared 
 your family. As to Mary, I hope that she will 
 soon regain her former strength and feel again 
 like herself. Please remember me very kindly to 
 her and to her husband, without forgetting Mary 
 the fourth. How nicely dear Gertrude writes 1 I 
 was perfectly delighted with her lovely little letter. 
 Tell her I will not fail answering it. Mr. Chemid- 
 lin has gone to Carlsbad, and I can assure you that 
 I have almost regretted having assented to his 
 proposition of going to take those waters at the ex- 
 pense of Egypt and Palestine. When this deci- 
 sion was come at, we were in Algiers. He was 
 tired and worn, unable to endure either much fa- 
 tigue or irregularity. We could not give the time 
 for both journeys, and the question of choice was 
 proposed by himself. I immediately told him 
 that the choice was his, and that I would gladly 
 concur in anything he would decide. He then de- 
 cided for Carlsbad. Since then he has been im- 
 proving very much, especially the last few weeks, 
 
 [ 93 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 and had he felt as well when in Naples, we would 
 have changed our itinerary and sailed for Egypt. 
 But now he has gone, and I have had no news 
 from him, although he promised to write as soon 
 as he would have consulted the physicians there. 
 I could have gone myself to the East while he is 
 remaining in Carlsbad, but he would have felt bad- 
 ly and this would mar my own pleasure ; so I won't 
 go, notwithstanding my desire. 
 
 Since my last letter to you we have gone over 
 much ground, having been in Morocco, Algeria and 
 Tunisia, and as far as the great Sahara. We have 
 visited Malta, Syracuse, Messina, traversed the 
 Calabrian mountains, seen Naples "and did not 
 die," although Uncle came near doing so on Mt. 
 Vesuvius, when he had such an ecstacy that there 
 must have been a doubt for a moment whether he 
 would come to or not. But he did survive. We 
 then went to Rome. Ah, there he had another crit- 
 ical moment. This was while visiting the ruins. 
 I really thought at times that I would have to 
 leave him there a corpse and a corpse made by dis- 
 gust. But I know the remedy to revive him every 
 time: flowers and a good fire. Behold the pana- 
 cea that cures him from all fits of disappointment 
 and blue moments. We visited Florence, Venice, 
 Milan and Genoa. Well, our trip there was not 
 a perfect success, the weather being cold and dis- 
 agreeable. But in Nice we came very near making 
 
 [ 94 ] 
 

 PS = 
 
 O 
 
 z'. i 
 
LETTERS 
 
 shipwreck among flowers and sunshine. Actually, 
 I thought I could never drag Uncle away, so 
 charmed and enraptured he was with masquerade 
 processions, battle of flowers, etc., etc. The heavens 
 came to the rescue, and one morning we beheld the 
 hills around Nice clad in "the beautiful," and he 
 was at last persuaded to leave the mundanities of 
 Nice and the breakers of Monte Carlo. We came 
 to Lyons, and found there fog enough to dampen 
 all his juvenile propensities; also, he did not ex- 
 actly care to remain more than was needed to have 
 clothes made capable of enclosing his surplus flesh ; 
 for with all due respect, his person was no longer 
 contained in the others. He actually weighed 
 twenty-one pounds more than he did when at the 
 farm, and he had almost to lean forward to behold 
 his pedal extremities. He got his clothes and went, 
 and now I am here waiting to hear from him before 
 I make my plans homeward. The day before yes- 
 terday I had a letter from Mollie in which she told 
 me at once of her being in Paris, of her visit to 
 Lyons next week, and, particularly, not to forget 
 the new name, which is Madame Edward Fitz- 
 gerald. You may well think how careful I was 
 not to direct my letter to Mollie McQuillan, Paris. 
 I hope to hear from her again, and to spend next 
 Tuesdav with her and her husband, which will be a 
 great pleasure to me. T am so glad that Alice has 
 also been married, and that to Mr. Mclver. I have 
 
 [ 95 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 always entertained a very good opinion of him, be- 
 cause I knew he was extremely kind to his mother 
 and also to his sister. Such a man scarcely ever 
 fails to be a good husband. Then you know how 
 much I thought of Alice, and how I desired that 
 she would meet a good husband. Now, I thank 
 God that He has granted this wish of mine, and 
 feel certain that she will be a good wife. I thank 
 you also for your kind attention to her in visiting 
 her, sure as I am that your kindness will do her as 
 much good as it will give her pleasure. 
 
 Our visit in Rome will never be forgotten either 
 by Mr. Chemidlin or myself. Through the Prop- 
 aganda, we were granted a private audience by 
 the holy Father. I had seen and spoken to him be- 
 fore, but how different to be alone with him ! How 
 kindly he asked about my charge ! How encourag- 
 ing were his words! You may be assured that I 
 did not forget my friends while with him, and es- 
 pecially yourself, Mr. Hill, the boys and all the 
 family. My trust is that the blessing of Christ's 
 representative on earth will go a great way in help- 
 ing them both for their spiritual and temporal wel- 
 fare. When we returned to the hotel both of us 
 had the same idea, expressed it in the same words. 
 If only Mr. Hill could be there, how he would ap- 
 preciate such a man, so morally powerful, so in- 
 tellectual, and at the same time, so simple without 
 
 [ 96 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 the least ostentation, so fatherly and truly the serv- 
 ant of Christ's servants. 
 
 Yesterday we had a diminutive snow blizzard, 
 and in Lyons it was quite unpleasant, and the wind 
 blew quite cold during the night and this morning. 
 When I entered the sacristy to prepare for Mass, 
 the first question put to me was "Have you such 
 cold weather in your country?" When I looked 
 at the report in the morning paper, the mercury had 
 gone down the night before to about 27 degrees 
 above our zero, and I felt quite comfortable. 
 
 I am very glad to hear that Clara is improving 
 so well, and hope and pray that the treatment she 
 takes may be entirely successful. Please give my 
 kindest regards to Mr. Hill and my love to all the 
 children. Tell Charlotte that Mr. Chemidlin, 
 knowing her eagerness to take French lessons, will 
 make all possible speed to respond to her yearnings, 
 and that, if she wishes it, he is fully prepared to 
 double the number of her lessons. As to Clara, he is 
 firmly determined to speak nothing but German, 
 and for this end will devote his whole time to the 
 study of his favorite tongue, and has strong hopes 
 of succeeding, with the help of salt water, beer and 
 sauerkraut. He ought to, since in every place he 
 was addressed in German, placed at table with 
 them, and poor me, on his account, taken also for 
 a Teuton. 
 
 Well, it is time to stop all this nonsense I have 
 been writing and hope you will agree with me. 
 
 [ 97 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 Wishing you all well, and hoping to be with j^ou 
 all very soon, 1 remain very sincerely your friend 
 in Christ, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 Do not forget to remember me kindly to the 
 boys when you see them. 
 
 XXI 
 
 Carlsbad, March 5th, 1890. 
 
 Miss Clara Hiix, 
 Saint Paul. 
 
 My Dear Clara: 
 
 Miserere mei — De profundis Dust to dust 
 
 Four glasses of abominable water, taken at 
 
 intervals of twenty minutes, commencing at seven 
 in the morning, the intervals filled with walking, 
 with the thermometer below zero. I shall turn in- 
 to a naiade. And with that, a diet fit for an 
 anchorite, no soup, no vegetables, only roast meat, 
 red wine ad libitum, but mixed with that nauseous 
 water (luckily the doctor forgot to state the pro- 
 portion), and only four cigars a day! What is 
 going to become of those twenty-one pounds I 
 succeeded in laying on my old bones with so much 
 labor? They felt so comfortable, those twenty- 
 one pounds, and they are already showing signs 
 of departure. I did not want Carlsbad to give 
 
 [ 98] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 me peachy cheeks, I had them, those peachy 
 cheeks, and how can bones look peachy under the 
 skin? Ah! Father Caillet, you have to answer for 
 it. 
 
 But the villainous trick he has just played on 
 me! I left him two weeks ago at Lyons. He 
 was to stay there about two weeks and then come 
 slowly to meet me here. Do you know what he 
 has done? Just started for Nice with Tiny Kel- 
 ly, Molly and her husband. You will understand 
 the shabbiness of the thing when I tell you that 
 he would hardly stay a few days in that paradise, 
 and that I had to get red hot before he would stay 
 for the battle of flowers. He was in a hurry to 
 get rid of me, I suppose. And now, do you know 
 what he writes? After Nice, the gentleman will 
 go to Paris and wait for me there. If my funds 
 were not getting low, I would play the gentleman 
 one and a half tricks for his one. But he won't 
 lose it. 
 
 Was it not from Naples I wrote to you last? 
 Rome disappointed me, and surpassed my expec- 
 tations. I could not, like Father Caillet, enthuse 
 before broken heads, arms, legs imbedded in 
 garden walls. The ruins left me cold. True, the 
 Coliseum must have been magnificent before pal- 
 aces were built of its stones, and the bronze coat- 
 ing had been converted into money. The fact is, 
 what remains of it looks grand. Oh! these Ro- 
 
 [ 99 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 mans, I have always hated their history. A nation 
 of robbers. Romulus and Remus were chiefs of rob- 
 bers. After stealing sheep, they stole the Sabine 
 women. Their successors became robbers of na- 
 tionalities. Then after losing the power, they 
 became brigands in the mountains, and now they 
 rob the travelers. In all the museums, if you ask, 
 "Whose work is that?" invariably the answer is, 
 "Greek." True, their alto-relievos are full of 
 movement. But approach — there is no beauty, 
 no delicacy in the figures. All is coarse. 
 
 The brick ruins of the palaces are dungeons, 
 the amphitheaters tell of slaughter. How differ- 
 ent the remains of Greece! 
 
 But what raised my enthusiasm were the works 
 of the Renaissance. That is the only bright page 
 in Italian history. What immense difference be- 
 tween Pagan art and Christian art! The Greek 
 represents the most beautiful human body in the 
 most perfect manner, but there is no soul. Michael 
 Angelo and his almost-equals cared more for the 
 soul than for the body. Their statues are cloth- 
 ed, but what a world of inspiration in the faces and 
 postures. If you could see the Muses, if you could 
 see St. Cecilia and the thousands of others that 
 people the churches and even the museums! 
 
 As for the paintings — too bad! another one of 
 my ideals is broken; but how puny the French 
 
 [ 100 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 school of painting of the present day compared 
 with the works of those geniuses ! 
 
 As for St. Peter's, well, it is the temple to sing 
 the "Gloria in Excelsis" in, as the church of the 
 Escurial is fit only for the "De profundis". No 
 doubt Father Caillet described in one of his letters 
 to your mother our kind reception by the Pope, 
 so I won't repeat. Florence we saw at its best 
 and at its worst. The first day was a fine June 
 day; after, Oh! it was cold. Venice cold, Milan 
 cold, did I not suffer though! But as soon as we 
 reached Nice, everything was in bloom. We got 
 there just for the carnival. My dear, if you ever 
 
 want to go to paradise before dying 
 
 (A. Chemidlin) 
 
 XXII 
 
 St. Paul, May J7, 1891. 
 
 Miss Claka H[ll, 
 Columbia Heights, 
 Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Ma bien chere Clara: 
 
 Charitable comme vous I'etes, je suis certain que 
 vous me pardonnerez de ne vous avoir pas repondu 
 plus tot. N'allez pas croire du moins, qu'il m'a fallu 
 presque deux mois pour vous composer une letter 
 en francais. Non, ce n'est pas la mon excuse. Le 
 fait est que je n'en ai point si ce n'est mon invet- 
 
 [ 101 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 eree paresse. Et cependant 9a m'avait fait iin 
 bien grand plaisir de voir que vous pensiez un peu 
 a votre vieil ami, et j'aurais du vous en remercier 
 en vous repondant de suite. 
 
 Pendant I'absence de Sam, j'ai passe presque 
 toutes les nuits chez Marie, et je vous assure que 
 je suis encore devenue plus intime avec Mary 
 Mendenhall, si cela se pent. Elle est jolie a cro- 
 quer, parle comme luie pie (comme une certaine 
 tante) et n'en veut faire qu'a sa tete (tou jours 
 comme cette tante). II y a quelques jours, a de- 
 jeuner, elle voulut avoir de mon cafe. Sa maman 
 dit, non! Mademoiselle fit une moue et dit, 
 "Baby go to grocery and buy coffee." Ca promet. 
 Elle danse comme une fee, chante comme un pin- 
 son, et gronde comme sa tante. Vous rappelez- 
 vous comme vous aviez I'habitude de me gronder, 
 quand je ne me conduisais pas bien? 
 
 Je suis charme que vous m'ayez ecrit en fran9ais, 
 et surtout que vous I'ayez fait sans grammaire ni 
 dictionnaire, ce qui fait preuve de beaucoup de 
 courasje. 
 
 J'ai bien peur, si les rapports sont vrais, que 
 notre Charlotte ne soit pas encore a meme de 
 m'ecrire dans la langue que j'aime. La Malheu- 
 reuse! Avec son accent, qui est meilleur que le 
 votre (ne vous en deplaise), et ses talents, elle 
 aurait fait une eleve admirable. II faut esperer 
 
 [ 102 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 que cela viendra; il lui sera bien facile de reparer 
 le temps perdu. 
 
 Les nouveaux domestiques venus d'Angleterre 
 amusent beaucoup les enfants avec leurs "h's" 
 ajoutes et retrancbes. L'un d'eux demandait 
 I'autre jour, si Miss 111 etait hill. Le malheureux 
 voulait dire "Is Miss Hill ill?" 
 
 Je crois bien qu'a votre retour la maison sera 
 presque terminee. Les tableaux sont pendus, 
 I'orgue est pose, et je crois qu'il n'y a plus que le 
 rez-de-chausse a terminer. On donne les der- 
 nieres touches au grand salon et a la salle de 
 musique. Ce sera merveilleux. Devenez vite 
 jolies afin que les habitantes soient dignes de 1'- 
 habitation. Quant a Ruth elle n'a aucune peur. 
 
 Et parlant de Ruth, vous ne sauriez croire quels 
 progres elle fait en fran^ais. Sans aucune excep- 
 tion, sans aucune, entendez vous, c'est la meilleure 
 eleve que j'aie jamais eue. 
 
 Tout le monde, sans en excepter le pere Caillet, 
 se porte a merveille. Quant a moi, helas! j'ai 
 perdu I'elegance de ma taille. 
 
 Serait-ce trop vous demander si je vous priais 
 de m'ecrire avant votre retour? Charite, s'il vous 
 plait. 
 
 Votre affectione, 
 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 [ 103 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XXIII 
 
 St. Paul. May 17, 1891. 
 
 My Beamiest Clara: 
 
 Charitable as you are, I am sure that you will 
 forgive me for not having replied to you sooner. 
 At least, do not tliink that it took me almost two 
 months to compose a letter in French. No, that 
 is not my excuse. The fact is, I have none, unless 
 it is my inveterate laziness. Nevertheless, it gave 
 me great pleasure to see that you thought a httle 
 of your old friend, and I should have thanked you 
 by replying at once. 
 
 During Sam's absence 1 have passed almost 
 every night at Mary's house, and I assure you that 
 I have become still more intimate with Mary 
 Mendenhall, if that were possible. She is pretty 
 enough to eat, chatters like a magpie (like a cer- 
 tain aunt) and wants her own way, still like the 
 same aunt. Some days ago, at breakfast, she 
 wanted to have my coffee. Her mother said, 
 "No." Mademoiselle pouted and said, "Baby go 
 to the grocery and buy coffee." That is promis- 
 ing. She dances like a fairy, sings like a lark, and 
 scolds like her aunt. You remember how you 
 have the habit of scolding me when I do not be- 
 have well? 
 
 I am delighted that you wrote to me in French, 
 and, above all, that you did it without grammar or 
 
 [ 104 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 dictionary, which is proof of a great deal of cour- 
 age. I am very much afraid, if reports are true, 
 that our Charlotte is not yet as ready to write me 
 in the language I love. The naughty girl! with 
 her accent, which is better than yours (don't be 
 displeased), and her talents, she would have made 
 an admirable scholar. We must hope that this 
 will come about. It would be easy for her to make 
 up for lost time. 
 
 The new men-servants from England amuse the 
 children very much with their h's added and 
 dropped. One of them asked the other day 
 whether Miss 111 were hill. The poor fellow meant 
 to say, "Is Miss Hill ill?" 
 
 I am sure that on your return the house will 
 be almost finished ; the pictures are hung, the organ 
 is placed, and I believe there is nothing but the 
 basement to finish. They are giving the last 
 touches to the drawing room and the music room. 
 It will be marvelous. Become pretty quickly, so 
 that the inhabitants may be worthy of the habita- 
 tion. As for Ruth she need have no fear. 
 
 And speaking of Ruth, you woidd not believe 
 what progress she makes in French. Without 
 any exception, without any, understand, she is the 
 best pupil that I have ever had. 
 
 Everybody, not excepting Father Caillet, is 
 wonderfully well. As for me, alas! I have lost 
 the elegance of mj'^ figure. 
 
 [ 105 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 Would it be asking too much if I begged you to 
 write before your return. Charity, please. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 XXIV 
 
 Vevey, 23 Aug., 1S95. 
 
 Miss Elsie Shawe, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Elsie: 
 
 Many thanks for your kind and most welcome 
 letter of the 9th. I hope that you are all having 
 a good time at the Lake. The precariousness of 
 Mr. Prince's condition has saddened both Mr. 
 Chemidlin and myself very much, for I had hoped 
 from news I had received that he was rather better. 
 Please give him my most affectionate regards and 
 those of Mr, Chemidlin, and extend the same to 
 all the members of the family. 
 
 As for us, we have been blessed in a very special 
 manner. The treatment at Vichy was successful 
 with both of us; and the good results seem to im- 
 prove instead of diminishing as time passes on. 
 We are taking the remedies ordered by the Vichy 
 doctor. This course may last for some three weeks 
 yet. After this we shall turn toward home, and 
 then follow Dr. Smith's advice, if he has any to 
 give. I wish, dear Elsie, that you could be here 
 
 [ 106 ] 
 
MOXSIGXOR LOUIS CAIIJ.ET, ABOUT 1893 
 
LETTERS 
 
 with us and enjoy the beautiful scenery spread 
 before us. We are on the shores of Lake Geneva. 
 In front of us we have a massif of high mountains 
 — to our left, still higher, the beginning of snow; 
 back of us we have most beautiful hills which at 
 home we would call mountains. These are all 
 planted with grape vines and fruit trees, and inter- 
 spersed with villages and hamlets. I wish you 
 could behold on those mountains the effects of 
 light at simrise and sunset. You would surely 
 think that you had never even dreamt of such pos- 
 sibilities. Next Monday we are going on an ex- 
 cursion to Chamounix, near the "Mer-de-Glace." 
 This will take us three days, and after a little rest 
 I intend to direct my way to Rotterdam, where I 
 shall see the Beaupre's. 
 
 I am beginning to feel lonesome and wish for 
 home. A life among strangers would not fill my 
 wants, no matter how beautiful the surroundings. 
 
 Now with much love to all at home and to Mary 
 and Mr. Smith, I remain very sincerely, your 
 friend, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 [ 107 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XXV 
 
 Vevey, 31 August, 1895. 
 
 Mrs. James J. Hill, 
 
 Summit Ave., St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hill: 
 
 Your very kind letter followed us to Vevey. 
 We selected this spot as a charming one for rest, 
 and convenient for excursions to beautiful sights. 
 We made one to Chamounix at the very foot of 
 the Mont Blanc. I was satisfied to go to its sum- 
 mit through the means of a powerful telescope, 
 which enables us to behold its grandeur and dan- 
 gers of ascent in a very safe and comfortable man- 
 ner. 
 
 I did one foolish thing. I climbed the mountain 
 on foot as far as the crossing of the glacier of the 
 Grands Bossons, and did cross the glacier and 
 went to see the grotto under the glacier. It was 
 foolish for an old man, but the way it happened 
 was this: the man who had come with me, I un- 
 derstood, knew well the places around, but when 
 we crossed the glacier and had come to about the 
 middle of it, he told me he had to go back as his 
 head was getting dizzy. At first, I did not believe 
 him, and continued my way, till, when looking back, 
 I saw him far away to the other side. As I did not 
 know one way better than the other, I kept on, and 
 descended safely the ice steps, down the bank on 
 
 [ 108 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 the other side, although there was nothing to keep 
 one in case of sHpping; went to see the grotto and 
 made my way back by a far better road on the 
 other side of the ghicier. In the afternoon, Mr. 
 Chemidhn wished to go to see a cascade some 1500 
 feet high. I told him the game was not worth the 
 candle, but he accused me of not being a lover of 
 nature, etc.. so I went, and he has been sick ever 
 since. On the day we arrived at Chamounix, two 
 guides and a young gentleman from Austria had 
 perished in crossing to the summit. So the tele- 
 scope is the best way. Mr. Chen^idlin, I am sorry 
 to say, is not well; he cannot endure fatigue, and, 
 although ambitious, I will not let him have his way 
 to go farther in Switzerland. We will leave here 
 next week for Basle and Strasbourg, and while I 
 go to see the Beaupre's for a couple of days he will 
 go to his native place and to Paris. There he will 
 wait for me, and we may be able to leave Havre on 
 the Champagne on the 14th Sept. All this must 
 lead vou to the conclusion that I am verv well and 
 that something has done much good. I continue 
 the remedies the Vichy doctor gave me, and hope 
 they will complete the cure. 
 
 Please give my kindest regards to Mr. Hill and 
 the entire family, without forgetting Mr. and Mrs. 
 Samuel Hill and the children. I remain 
 
 Very sincerely yours, 
 
 L. Caillet. 
 
 Mr. Chemidlin sends his best regards to all. 
 
 [ 109 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XXVI 
 
 Vichy, 11 Auffust, 1896. 
 
 Miss Shawe, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Elsie: 
 
 Your kind and most interesting letter came yes- 
 terday, and, notwithstanding its kindness, I feel 
 bound to find fault with you for not having availed 
 yourself of Grace's invitation. You need a rest, 
 and that was the very kind of rest which would have 
 done you good and which you would have enjoyed. 
 Alas, some people do not realize what is good for 
 them ! I am sorrj^ to see that you are of that num- 
 ber. As for myself, I am very well and have every 
 reason to hope that my season will result in a lasting 
 good. I cannot say the same for the pleasure, for 
 my season has been without almost any interrup- 
 tion a season of rain and rather cool weather. I 
 would almost say cold, if I dared to charge la belle 
 France with that crime in July and August. Any- 
 way, my overcoat and rubbers have done much good 
 service. 
 
 There is one thing I have realized and that 
 is how hard a work the work of killing time is. I 
 do not know but it is easier to let time kill you. No 
 danger of protracting my visit to France; better 
 twenty and more degrees below and something to 
 do and a few friends to talk with than even summer 
 
 [ 110 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 weather, etc., all you can imagine in fact, and have 
 only to invent every day something to kill time. 
 What if you have only rain and mud ! I intend to 
 take the very first steamer within reach where I 
 can find a berth and go home. This may not be as 
 soon as I wish, as it is the time when steamers are 
 crowded. 1 will then spend some days in Paris, 
 where there is more to entertain a stranger than at 
 Vichv. 
 
 ft- 
 
 1 am very glad to hear that Mother is feeling 
 better and hope she will be prepared for the winter 
 so as to pass it more comfortably than the last. And 
 Stella, how is she? I hope, as usual, busy and cheer- 
 ful. I received a letter from Mr. Smith which I 
 have enjoyed very much. I intend to reply to it 
 very soon. Tell him that I intend to vote in order 
 to offset Fr. Gibbon's vote. I will vote for Mc- 
 Kinley and honest money. If you see the Mc- 
 Quillans tell them to prepare for the worst scolding 
 of their Hfe, unless I relent as I get near home, 
 which I fear may be the case. 
 
 Now, dear Elsie, take care of yourself and do 
 not forget that lost health is the hardest thing to 
 find again. It is much easier to husband it and 
 keep it than to lose it and go after it, even if one 
 can go. 
 
 Now, give my kind regards to your Mother, Stel- 
 la, Marv and her husband, in fact, the whole family 
 
 [ 111 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 without forgetting Frs. Gibbons and Shea, and 
 Uncle, and believe me, 
 Ever your old and affectionate friend, 
 
 L. E. Caillet. 
 
 XXVII 
 
 Lyons, 16 August, 1896. 
 
 Mrs. Hill, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hill: 
 
 I returned to Lyons on Friday after twenty- 
 four days spent in Vichy. I cannot think of any 
 pleasure at that place, as it rained every day with 
 the exception of three or four, and I cannot think 
 of anything more dismal than a watering-place in 
 rainy weather. The Doctor is entirely satisfied 
 with the results and assures me that there are years' 
 work yet in me, provided I keep from worrying. 
 This I will try to do, and hope to be helped in that 
 by those I may work with. Of course, he could 
 not say anything more gratifying than that there 
 would be no need of extraordinary care of my 
 health, for I believe truly that such life is hardly 
 worth living. I hear a good deal about the politi- 
 cal condition at home. While it is far from being 
 reassuring, I hope that the election will turn out 
 all right, and that the question in November will 
 not be one of this or that political party, but one 
 
 [ "2 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 of the country itself; and that God will guide our 
 people as He has before, and that private interest 
 will yield to what is for the general good; I mean, 
 public honesty. 
 
 I am writing to you from the very house where 
 I began under a true man of God to study for the 
 priesthood. This morning I visited the garden and 
 thought of all the places I used to go with my much 
 regretted friend, Father Tissot. Our games, our 
 talks, all came back. 
 
 I am very happy to have been invited to spend 
 some days here where I can have perfect rest, be- 
 cause a happy rest. I celebrated yesterday in the 
 dear old chapel the thirty-ninth anniversary of my 
 first Mass, and I assure you that it was a great 
 consolation; neither did I forget you nor Mr. Hill 
 nor any of your family. In fact, I never do omit 
 to pray for you even a single day, as this is the only 
 and best way I have to do something in return for 
 all the kindness you have always done for me. I 
 do more of this when I am free from care than at 
 other times, because I have more time and think 
 more frequently of you all. I hope that you will 
 do as you propose, go to the seashore and inhale 
 some of that most healthful salt air which I like so 
 much and which agrees so well with me. You tell 
 me about the Archbishop and say that I am missed. 
 It is very gratifying to me, and I may well assure 
 you that my greatest comfort is to think that I may 
 
 [ 113 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 be able to be of some use to those who are so kind 
 as to think something of me. 
 
 I have received three letters from Rotterdam 
 urging me to make a visit there, but I do not well 
 see how I could accept, as it is a long journey and 
 out of my way. I feel very sorry, for I would like 
 to see Mrs. Beaupre. I am very glad to learn that 
 Mrs. McQuillan's house is under way and hope 
 that it will be well advanced when I return, for I 
 think that a pleasant home will add much happi- 
 ness to her life. 
 
 I remain very sincerely yours, 
 
 L. E. Caillet. 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 The 8t. Paul Seminary, 
 St. Paul, Minn., 20 October. 1896. 
 
 Mrs. Hill, 
 New York. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hill: 
 
 I thank you very much for the kind letter which 
 I received yesterday informing me of the improve- 
 ment in Rachel's condition. Already I had heard 
 of her being not worse, and this, to my mind, was 
 already a good and hopeful sign ; now, I trust that 
 she will get better rapidly. This morning I offer- 
 ed again the Holy Sacrifice for her prompt re- 
 covery, and feel sure that prayer, sustained by 
 
 [ 114 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 your presence and yoiu* vigilance, will soon bring 
 our dear Rachel all right. Yes, I believe that your 
 presence had a very good moral effect on Rachel, 
 and that this itself has helped her very much. 
 Everything is going on here as usual, and notwith- 
 standing that people are preparing for the election, 
 the missions have opened very well, both at St. 
 Mary's and at the Cathedral. Both churches were 
 packed last Sunday night. 
 
 Although I cannot say that I like Seminary life, 
 I feel much better contented under the altered cir- 
 cumstances than I did last year. Father Heffron 
 seems to take an earnest interest in his new work 
 and do it in an intelligent manner. The rest of 
 the faculty are working well and are in very good 
 spirits. The Archbishop is away East and I sup- 
 pose has his hands full. There has been an acces- 
 sion in the home of Mary Smith. A little boy has 
 been born there, to the great satisfaction of both 
 father and mother. The JNIcQuillans are all well, 
 waiting for the completion of the new house to 
 move into it. Mrs. Hardenbergh has returned and 
 may be with us for a little while. How happy one 
 is to rest contented at home, unless duty or neces- 
 sity compels him to go away from it! We are ex- 
 pecting Grace* next week, and the family already 
 enjoy her coming by anticipation. I expect to go 
 to see Mr. Hill and the family some day this week 
 
 *Mrs. Louis Chemidlin, formerly Grace Prince. 
 
 [ 115 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 and hope I will find more good news of dear Rach- 
 el. Tell her that she is not forgotten in prayer, 
 and that God will help her out of her trouble, and 
 that she will soon be well. 
 
 Please give my kind regards also to Ruth and 
 Charlotte, and believe me 
 
 Yours very sincerely, 
 
 L. E. Caillet. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 Saint Paul, Dec. 2, J 897. 
 
 Mrs. James J. Hill, 
 New York City. 
 
 My Dear Mrs. Hill: 
 
 I am most grateful to you for writing to me. I 
 did not expect he would leave us so soon, and I al- 
 ways hoped that he would bury me. He was more 
 than a brother to me. For forty years we were 
 intimate friends. When together, we both thought 
 aloud and with the exception of what pertained to 
 his profession, of what referred to others, he had 
 nothing concealed from me ; and as for me, he knew 
 me better than I knew myself. He was a strong 
 man and I am a weak one, and I leaned on him. 
 His loss is very hard to bear at my age. And your 
 loss is as great as mine.* He could hardly have 
 
 •Father Caillet prepared Mrs. Hill for her First Communion 
 and was her particular friend and counselor. 
 
 [ 116 ] 
 
C^.-^'X^^-'^ -^^^f^l-^O^ /P^^-t^ii.*-.*^ 
 
LETTERS 
 
 loved you any better if you had been his daughter, 
 and he had an equal affection for Mr. Hill and the 
 children. It is very hard. 
 
 I was with him to tlie last moment. From the 
 verv moment of the attack, he lost all consciousness 
 and did not suffer. Nothing but his breathing, 
 which grew faster and weaker, indicated that the 
 end was approaching, and he passed softly away. 
 
 I am very happy to hear that Louis has borne 
 that operation so well. I hope that soon you will 
 all be back. 
 
 Please give my love to Louis and to the girls. 
 
 Yours very sincerely, 
 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 XXX 
 
 Brooklyn, May 24-99. 
 
 Mrs. James J. Hill, 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hill : 
 
 You must think that I have been very rude in 
 not answering your kind letter written so long ago. 
 But I hope you will excuse me, for until a few days 
 ago I have been unable to write. The day after I 
 called upon you 1 had a relapse of my lumbago. 
 I could not leave my bed for weeks. I am told 
 that warm salt-water baths will do me much good, 
 and as next Saturday we go to Far-Rockaway, I 
 
 [ 117 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 will try the cure, and, if after a couple of weeks I 
 find no improvement, I shall start for Saint Paul. 
 As it is abominably cold for the season, the sea- 
 shore will not be very enjoj^able, I am afraid. How 
 I could have reached the age of seventy-four with 
 all I have suffered in my life, I cannot imagine. 
 Excuse me for speaking so much of myself. You 
 know old people and patients love to speak of 
 themselves. 
 
 I was shocked at hearing of that accident on 
 your return home. Providence was good to you 
 and your family. It reminds me that before set- 
 ting out on a journey, one had better put things 
 in order for the life to come; so your great danger 
 will be of some benefit to me. 
 
 Day before yesterday, feeling pretty well, I took 
 the cars for a stroll on Fifth Avenue, for, having 
 not a bit of envy in my composition, I like to see 
 the enjoyment that wealth procures. 
 
 As I was strolling slowly, admiring the beautiful 
 horses (and maybe the young occupants of the car- 
 riages), I heard a "How do you do, Mr. Chemid- 
 lin?" coming out of a procession of girls. I turned' 
 and saw first, Rachel, all smiles, and then Gertrude. 
 It was but a short vision. I just had time to take 
 my hat off, bow profoundly, and the vision had 
 disappeared. 
 
 Please remember me to all. 
 
 Yours very sincerely, 
 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 [ 118 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 XXXI 
 
 Far-Rockaway, June 21, 1899. 
 
 My Dear Mrs. Hill, 
 
 After traveling around, or more likely lying hid- 
 den in a corner of our excellent postoffice, your 
 kind letter of June 4th has at last reached me. I 
 had received a few vi^eeks before a package from 
 one of the girls. It was the "Figaro" with the his- 
 tory of the Paris Exposition and a few interesting 
 engravings of some of the buildings. As I am not 
 going home as soon as I expected, I send them to 
 you. They will give you a limited idea of what 
 you will see next year. If the French are the worst 
 politicians of the world, they make it up by being 
 the most artistic ; a small compensation in this utili- 
 tarian age. 
 
 At last my health is improving fast. It was the 
 worst and longest attack of lumbago I ever had. 
 It broke me completely down, both in body and 
 spirit, but since my coming to the seashore I have 
 improved wonderfully. I harve only been here one 
 month, and I am a new man. I had intended to 
 start on the first of July, but the doctor says I must 
 remain here another month to rebuild me complete- 
 ly. Although I long to see St. Paul very much, I 
 will take the medicine, which is not very bitter after 
 all, for the place is beautiful and delightful. Only 
 I am forbidden bathing in cold water. All do it; 
 
 [ 119 ] 
 
LETTERS 
 
 even Grace's little girl, who is only two and a half 
 years old, rushes into the waves like a duckling. 
 Even her nine months' old boy has his bathing suit 
 and enjoys the water as much as the best of them. 
 
 I am very glad to hear that you are all so well. 
 Sometime ago I received a letter from Clara in 
 which she writes that Mary is enjoying her time 
 very much. I wish we had an Aix-les-Bains here. 
 I hope she will let me know the time of her return. 
 I would like so much to meet them at the wharf. 
 
 Walter must be very happy to get his vacation 
 at last. I do not know if many boys would have 
 had the will to stand the lonesomeness of the place. 
 I would have run away. 
 
 I will talk nothing but French to Mary and 
 James when I return to St. Paul. 
 
 Please remember me to Mr. Hill and all the 
 family. 
 
 Yours very sincerely, 
 A. Chemidlin. 
 
 [ 120 ] 
 
PRESS OF 
 
 McGILL-WARNERCO, 
 
 ST. PAUL. MINN. 
 
 U.S.A. 
 
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 
 
 This book is due on "the date Indicated below, or at the 
 expiration of a definite period after the date of borrowing, as 
 provided by the library rules or by special arramgement with 
 the Librari£in in charge. 
 
 DATE BORROWED 
 
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COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRA 
 
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