Wlliam Gilmore Simms
Stories and Tales >> Flirtation at the Moultrie House >> Page 382

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Page 382

Short Stories | U of South Carolina P | 1974
Miss Georgiana Appleby, Moultrie House, to Miss Sophronia Kirk-
land, near Clarkesville, Ga.
Oh ! my Sophronia, my other self, you should be here. But for
your absence, I should be the happiest creature in the world. I should
want for nothing. Wanting you, however, I am still human, and still
feel that none of my blessings are perfect. Yet, heaven knows, I
ought to be content, nay, more, —I ought to be happy. The place,
itself, far exceeds my expectations. We reached Charleston on Tues-
day, and the very next day came to the Island. And O ! the sea, my
Sophronia, the blue, the bright, the ever boundless sea! You know
that my eyes had never before beheld the ocean. I was overwhelmed
by the sight. It is beyond description. It is a power to be felt and
feared, and loved, and worshipped, but hardly to be spoken of. The
Moultrie House opens its great doors directly upon it. The big
billows roll directly up to its portals, and subside in the sweetest
murmurs and chidings at its feet. At high tide, the water spreads up
and away to within a hundred yards of the entrance, and if you wish
to enjoy the embraces of the Atlantic, in vulgar speech, take a sea
bath, you can do so with a "hop, skip and jump," such as we learned
to take when little ignorant school girls, at dear old Athens. I have
already been in several times, with twenty others; and O ! such
rolling and rocking, such tumblings and tryings to swim in the
shallowest places. There is no sort of danger. The shore slopes
gradually down, and all you do is to run out and meet the breakers,
which come in curling and falling over, one upon the back of the
other, turning you over on your back also, and making you scramble
and sprawl about, in the most comical manner, to get on your feet
again. It is delicious frolicking, I tell you. But, cousin Tom says, I
must hurry, for the boat will soon go to the city, and he is to carry
my letter to the post office. Come to me, my Sophronia, heart of my
heart, and soul of my spirit, and make me altogether happy by
sharing with me my happiness.
Your own only,