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Authors: Kelly O'Connor McNees
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resolution in her mind that she would go, no matter what.
The first line took her by surprise as she read, As I believe Miss Bixby explained to you, I am seeking a housekeeper-cook, not a wife. Miss Bixby had explained no such thing.
This was one thing Elsa hadn’t expected and she let it wash over her, considering what it meant. A blessing, she decided. There was no need to worry now over the matter of her appearance, her plump physique. Though at one time she had prayed earnestly for a husband, it was not to be, and many years ago she came to peace with her life as a spinster. It was a difficult path, being in the world alone, but Elsa couldn’t imagine it changing now. Knowing this man wanted something she was sure she could provide—competent housekeeping—was a comfort. Elsa read on.
I am an old man with no time for foolishness. You need not be pretty, for I don’t plan on looking much upon you. Rather you should be the sort of woman who looks as if God made her for something. I spend all day in the field. You only must be hearty enough for the winters on this farm. Oh, and if you are one of those women who chatters like a hen, tell me now and save yourself traveling all the way here only for me to send you back to New York. I like a quiet, orderly house. I have worked hard for what I have and I don’t believe in getting something for nothing at all, the way the children seem to now. I am very glad I never had any young ones myself. Children are nothing but a vexation.
I am glad that you are Bavarian too, for I will expect you to cook our sort of food. I am glad to see you are neither a Catholic, nor a Methodist, which I have come to believe is even worse. I don’t see how it’s any business of the Reverend’s what I take to drink with my meals. If you go in for all that bombast in a revival tent, don’t set toe on that train, is all I can tell you.
I am not a rich man but I can promise that you won’t want for anything here. I can offer room and board and a small wage. Quite small, mind you, but around here there isn’t much to spend it on. You will have the second floor all to yourself, including your own sitting room, as I keep to the first-floor bedroom because of my rusted-up knees. I have a cow, two horses, and a chicken coop, along with 100 acres of wheat and barley, and my neighbor keeps pigs and barters. I also have 3 ewes and a spinning wheel around here somewhere. It belonged to my late wife. She was the best knitter in Dodge County, and you won’t hear that only from subjective parties such as myself.
My understanding is that the other women are going to apply for land before they marry. If that is what you want to do you’ll need to find another gentleman, for my farm is already too big for me to handle and I figure I’ve got about ten years before I keel over in the field one day. I could just as easily ride over to Omaha and find a housekeeper there, but the fools in this town can’t stop talking about Miss Bixby’s belles, so I thought I would throw my hat in the ring. I came to Nebraska from Manhattan City too, and I suppose I like the idea of helping someone from home. As I said, I never had any children, so you’ll only have to worry about me. I don’t believe I am too much trouble.
As you can see, my English is very good, no accent to speak of, and I expect that yours will be too. We’ll see when you write back. Tell me if you are interested in this scheme and what sort of household supplies you need. It has been a long time since I had a woman in the house. Most days I eat canned beans for dinner, and they are awful. I await your reply. Until then, I am
Yours sincerely,
Mr. Leopold Schreier
Elsa closed her eyes in an attempt to slow her mind, which was racing ahead to paint a picture of what could be. She saw the farmhouse on a plot of land so flat you could flick a marble across it and it would roll on forever without stopping. She saw rows and rows of wheat bending in
The first line took her by surprise as she read, As I believe Miss Bixby explained to you, I am seeking a housekeeper-cook, not a wife. Miss Bixby had explained no such thing.
This was one thing Elsa hadn’t expected and she let it wash over her, considering what it meant. A blessing, she decided. There was no need to worry now over the matter of her appearance, her plump physique. Though at one time she had prayed earnestly for a husband, it was not to be, and many years ago she came to peace with her life as a spinster. It was a difficult path, being in the world alone, but Elsa couldn’t imagine it changing now. Knowing this man wanted something she was sure she could provide—competent housekeeping—was a comfort. Elsa read on.
I am an old man with no time for foolishness. You need not be pretty, for I don’t plan on looking much upon you. Rather you should be the sort of woman who looks as if God made her for something. I spend all day in the field. You only must be hearty enough for the winters on this farm. Oh, and if you are one of those women who chatters like a hen, tell me now and save yourself traveling all the way here only for me to send you back to New York. I like a quiet, orderly house. I have worked hard for what I have and I don’t believe in getting something for nothing at all, the way the children seem to now. I am very glad I never had any young ones myself. Children are nothing but a vexation.
I am glad that you are Bavarian too, for I will expect you to cook our sort of food. I am glad to see you are neither a Catholic, nor a Methodist, which I have come to believe is even worse. I don’t see how it’s any business of the Reverend’s what I take to drink with my meals. If you go in for all that bombast in a revival tent, don’t set toe on that train, is all I can tell you.
I am not a rich man but I can promise that you won’t want for anything here. I can offer room and board and a small wage. Quite small, mind you, but around here there isn’t much to spend it on. You will have the second floor all to yourself, including your own sitting room, as I keep to the first-floor bedroom because of my rusted-up knees. I have a cow, two horses, and a chicken coop, along with 100 acres of wheat and barley, and my neighbor keeps pigs and barters. I also have 3 ewes and a spinning wheel around here somewhere. It belonged to my late wife. She was the best knitter in Dodge County, and you won’t hear that only from subjective parties such as myself.
My understanding is that the other women are going to apply for land before they marry. If that is what you want to do you’ll need to find another gentleman, for my farm is already too big for me to handle and I figure I’ve got about ten years before I keel over in the field one day. I could just as easily ride over to Omaha and find a housekeeper there, but the fools in this town can’t stop talking about Miss Bixby’s belles, so I thought I would throw my hat in the ring. I came to Nebraska from Manhattan City too, and I suppose I like the idea of helping someone from home. As I said, I never had any children, so you’ll only have to worry about me. I don’t believe I am too much trouble.
As you can see, my English is very good, no accent to speak of, and I expect that yours will be too. We’ll see when you write back. Tell me if you are interested in this scheme and what sort of household supplies you need. It has been a long time since I had a woman in the house. Most days I eat canned beans for dinner, and they are awful. I await your reply. Until then, I am
Yours sincerely,
Mr. Leopold Schreier
Elsa closed her eyes in an attempt to slow her mind, which was racing ahead to paint a picture of what could be. She saw the farmhouse on a plot of land so flat you could flick a marble across it and it would roll on forever without stopping. She saw rows and rows of wheat bending in
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