Sumter S. C.
April 15, 1868

My dear Fuller:--

We have it first so cold and then so warm and altogether so uncomfortable that I am afraid I shall begin to decay before my time. I am longing for settled warm weather and hope to see it soon. We are having an extremely rainy spring-time:--how is it with you?
The last letter I had from you mentions your wish to make public some of my effusions. If I had supposed the liberty worth having you should have had it long ago. Of course I am willing that anything I happen to write likely to do any good should be made any use of you like. But everything I write sounds so stupid, it does not seem possible.

This is the election week, and tomorrow night will be decided whether we are to go back in the Union this time. The Democrats are making gigantic efforts but they are likely to end in nothing, as themselves acknowledge; but they think they will feel easier in their minds for having made the effort and "performed their duty to their suffering and bleeding country." I hope they will. They will be likely to prove the truth of the saying that revolutions do not move backward. Do you know many of them are anxious for a monarchy. I wish they might get it--if they could keep it to themselves. I don't like that paper you sent me--the Revolution. Do you? I dislike its object and detest its spirit. I have nothing in sympathy with Mrs. Stanton or George F. Train, and nothing could be in worse taste than such wholesale denunciation of everything and everybody connected with the government. Only we of the South can appreciate this Congress I assure you. It is truly God-given. Where should we be had it possessed the spirit of Andrew Johnson!

The reason you have not received my letters so regularly is a great change among the mail trains which I can only understand in its disagreeable result of bringing my Boston letters about two days later. One of my friends remarked once that everything in South carolina was very sublunary-.-I think it grows more and more sublunary as we grow older.

Ten thousand thanks for your contribution to my Mayday party. Were you here the bright black orbs of my pupils should thank you far more effectively. They are wonderfully busy with their preparations and we expect a feast of reason and a flow of soul that shall be unsurpassed and unsurpassable. I hope the weather will be propitious. It is so nice that Mr. Tamblyn has gone, though I have yet no communication with my associates. The trouble is partly on my side now--I cannot forget their insulting manner to Mr. Whittemore, simply because he is my friend. Love to Mrs. Fisk. Yours as ever

Jennie B. Smith

I have one unanswered letter from you--hot the last. I do not forget it but wait for the mood.