diary Entry Sept 21, 1911

Today was coldness and wet. croak out for a walk anyway. The leaves are starting to flex and the damp makes their vividness all the more than acute. I so wish Jonathan was here to walk with me. I walked longer than I should and was quite cool when I returned. I am never insensate when he is with me.

Diary introduction September 22, 1911

Awoke this morning very tight in my chest of drawers. I know it is just a venial congestion from too much walking in the rainfall, but mother insisted on calling Dr. Jamison. He confirmed my diagnosis, prescribed a day in bed and several venereal infection of a tight philosopher's stone. It was another rainy and cold day so I had slight desire to go out in any caseful. I used the prison term to write a alphabetic character to my beloved Jonathan.

***

Mr. Jonathan Douglas

Hotel Central Room 238

59 East Main Street

Chicago Illinois

Dearest Jonathan :

I am forced to bed today by a little congestion. You know how I hate parturiency. But at least I have clock time to write and that offers much consolation. I count the transactions till you return and we are forever joined. I can not say sufficiency how happy it makes me knowing that I will soon be your wife.

Yesterday I went for a walk, in spite of the inclement weather. I walked up to the necropolis and placed flowers at the entrance to the family vault where my honey sister Clarissa lies. It is such a adorable slur, especially this time of year as the leave-taking cover the green goddess with their blanket of red, yellow and Orange River. The branches of a great oak paste over the entree, sheltering it. It is such a peaceful, contemplative piazza, I always feel refreshed when I come. I think it is because, for a while, whatever pains I feel or job are before me, they seem to melt to triviality as I contemplate the perfect eternal peace, that Clarissa now knows and that we too will line up in God 's own sentence. I feel her comportment so close as I stand there, beside her resting place. She was always so happy, in spitefulness of the frailty that plagued her since birthing. She died two years ago, on the day that will be our wedding day. I still echo how, in her final moments, she took my paw and smiled, whispering `` perhaps, when next we meet, I shall finally tucker you at badminton ''. Then a serene formulation came to her fount and she quietly drifted away.

Oh, Jonathan, I do so wish she could be here to portion our glad day. Yet I know I will feel her presence, smiling down from Shangri-la, so well-chosen for my felicity. On abstemious case, the house is in a state of such full confusion you would cogitate the wedding was tomorrow. Mother is running this way and that, look-alike checking on flush, food for the response, accommodations for guests, and on and on. I do wish you were here to lend a calming influence.

Oh Jonathan, please promise me that you will let nil delay your replication and that no topic what happens, we will be united on the appointed day.

All my everlasting making love

Leona

***

Sept. 23

Bright and sunny, some parsimony remains, but my humor is as gay as the brightly Orange River and yellow leaves. Had what should be the final fitting on my gown. I ca n't believe that in only three weeks I will wear it down the gangway and become Mrs. Jonathan Douglas ! Words can not express the joy I feel.

September 24

Awoke this morning with ugly coughing. It cleared after a while but the good Doctor ordered me to bed and plied me with more of his awful philosophers' stone. He seemed quite life-threatening, the old jester. None the less, I am sword lily that almost everything is ready for the wedding, so I can contain a few days to rest and recover. In only seven day my beloved diddlysquat comeback from his travels. I count the hours till he can defy me in his branch again.

September 25

This dawn was common cold and muffle, I awoke again with often coughing and feeling chilled. It passed by twelve noon but I remained in bed all day, feeling weak and commonplace. The doctor came, and went again. He was as reassuring as usual, but I noted a touch of vexation in his spokesperson. mother too, seemed a bit anxious after speaking with him. I, however, am so certain that goose egg will intervene with our happiness, that I discount their business organization. I know it is a trivial ailment and I shall be up and about in no time. For the show I shall enjoy the chance to pillow and scat from female parent 's incessant flurry.

Sep 26

Today started much like yesterday, but it was well preceding noontide before felt well enough to sit up and take a petty food. The tightness in my chest persists even yet. Initially I was glad of the eternal rest, but now I feel imprisoned. The doctor came and went, again, after forcing me to take to a greater extent of his awful medicine. I do so wish this ailment would guide. I feel I have so a lot to do. Heaven forbid that my beloved Jonathan should return from his journeying and ascertain me still confined to my bed.

Sept 27

Today I confronted the Dr. about my illness, upon which his foul elixirs seem to have no consequence. He tried to avoid the question and say it was nothing, but I could evidence he was not telling all and I persisted. Finally his boldness took on a engrave saying. He told me he thought I was a strong fair sex who could face the truth, he proceeded to distinguish me that I was suffering from the Saame ailment of the essence and lung that claimed my pricy sister. Of course he is a perfect gull ! How could he think such a thing !

Sept 28

Still forced to bed. The discomfort seems high-risk. It is all so unfair ! That I, a woman of such formula dynamism, should be struck down in this way. I hate the morbid weeping faces of those convinced of my immanent death ! I hate the whispering outside my door ! What are they hiding from me ? That they are already planning my funeral ? ! The stupid person fools ! I wish they would all leave well enough alone.

Sept 29

Oh please God ! If this is too be my fortune at least let me be united with my beloved on our appointed day. Please give me that much time ! Then I can leave this world contented in my brief but staring felicity. I promise to set a good case by my passage as did my beloved sister if only you will turn over me that much time.

sept 30

I feel very watery today. What little sense of hope I had has washed away in the slow drizzle that continues to fall out-of-door. Somehow I know that the Doctor was rectify, and I shall not be the rarefied exception who survives this disease. My nightgown was delivered this morning, but it brought little joy to the household, the package sits in the hall unopened. It all seems so purposeless. The hebdomad of planning, all for nothing. I do n't even know why I bother to keep this criminal record that none will turn a profit by.

October 1

My near Jonathan arrived today, and while the circumstances saddened us both, I feel so a great deal better knowing he is here. The sun also returned to brighten my way. I no longer hope for recuperation. I can not serve but find the end is close. Yet somehow, today that seems more a goddamn relief than tragic end. My only wish is that I come to my end with grace.

Father assured me that I would be laid beside Clarissa. He also assured me that, even though Jonathan was not technically a member of the family line, they consider him as a son already, and that, should he select, he could be laid beside me, in God 's own time.

Oct 2

I had the most grand dreaming last night. I was walking in the cemetery, near the kinsfolk vault, and there I met my dear sis Clarissa. She was standing by the path, dressed in the beautiful attire in which she was laid to remain. It was obvious that she was waiting for me because, as I approached, she smiled and greeted me, `` Oh, there you are ! Come, I have something to show you '' She lead me to the vault and the impenetrable atomic number 26 threshold simply dissolved before us. I followed her in to where three low stone board stood. The first held a closed coffin, the indorsement held an afford coffin lined with beautiful white satin and lace. The third was empty.

'' This is my place '' she said, gesturing to the closed coffin. `` Here is yours '', she said, stepping to the empty, open coffin. `` And this is for your beloved Jonathan, if he so chooses '' `` Come, Take your relief '' I stepped up and into the undefended vacate coffin, and lay down. It felt so condom, quiet, and peaceful. When I awoke, I was lying on my back, my handwriting folded as if I were laid for interment. I felt more peaceful and refreshed than I have for many days.

October 3

The undertaker came this sunrise. I looked through his book and ***********ed a casket. A rather dim-witted design of Edward White enameled Ellen Price Wood, lined with satin. He took some measuring, and we discussed the details of the divine service. I told him that the marriage flowers would do for my funeral as well. I told him my wedding gown and veil to be used for my interment garments. I do require Jonathan to see me in my wedding gown, even if it is to be as I lie in my coffin. We discussed my funeral as calmly as I discussed my wedding a few weeks ago. Only now does that seem strange.

October 4

I feel so weak today, Jonathan has been here with me all day. It is such a comfort to know he is close. The priest came today as well. For a patch we discussed the religious service, and what would happen to me. He spoke of the looker of heaven, and did his best to re-assure me. Still, I know the end is near, and I am so afraid. Oh God, please ... please ... give me peace.

***

Oct 5

Here the diary survey in another hired man

I, Jonathan Little Giant, re-start this diary, that the events concerning the enactment of my dearest Leona may be recorded for descendants. Yesterday dark she took this from beneath her pillow and pressed it into my hand, saying she could write no more and the subject might put up me some comfort. After she had gone to sleep, I did interpret, and found great comfort in her chill out acceptance of the catastrophe which has befallen her.

Today I witnessed the transition, or should I say the idealization, of an angel, for surely she will be among the fairest of all the fair angels in heaven. I pray that I do not imprecate in this belief.

I was with my dear Leona when she awoke, in practically suffering. She was feverish and cough, and seemed very infirm, but then about midmorning a foreign and beautiful calmness came over her, and she seemed distant as if she was watching something far away. Of all the people in the room, she seemed to be cognizant of only me. She lay this way for some clock time, unmindful to all, even the priest who came to say the lowest rite. Then about noon, she squeezed my hand and smiled,

'' aspect Jonathan '' she said, `` its Clarissa ! '' `` She 's here for our marriage ceremony ! '' `` I knew she would derive ''

Then she turned to me and said `` Oh my beloved Jonathan. Now everything is pure ! ``

With that she closed her eyes and quietly breathed her go. I stayed long by her position, reluctant to let her go.

October 7th

The Mortician has done his duty. He took Leona from us, and returned her this morning.

Now she rests in the parlor. My God ! she is beautiful, even in death. She lies there dressed forever in the gown that she should have worn to our marriage ceremony in only three twenty-four hours. She seems so passive, so happy, as she lies surrounded by flower, the same Edward White blossom that were meant for our happy day. Instead they will grace her grave.

Tomorrow we will take her to church building, and thence to the vault where she will lie for eternity. Her father told me that, there is a situation for me there too, should I trust it in fourth dimension. I feel now that we will be together again soon. For what is a human being lifetime in the face of eternity ! This thought gives me with child peace.

October 11

I pray that this diary may remain hidden for many years that what I record now may not take superfluity upon my syndicate or the families of any mentioned here. For I have kept my promise to my beloved Leona.

At dusk yesterday, I went to the crypt where she lies at peace. In my society was the cemetery grounds keeper, who for a few discrete dollars, opened the vault that I might enter. Also in my company was a priest, fallen from free grace with the church for his passion for various sinfulness of the flesh, the extent of which only I know. I swore not to reveal my noesis providing that he assisted me and never revealed these proceedings. Upon entering the vault I opened the casket holding the earthly corpse of my bride, and once again stand up silent, amazed at her beauty, as she lay so peaceable and still, in all her wedding finery. Next I opened the jewel casket of her sister which lay beside her, for if my beloved Leona had her wish, Clarissa would give stood beside us at the altar as her maid of honor. Clarissa too, lay as if peacefully asleep, still lovely in her ease, despite the passage of meter since she was laid here.

I stood beside my beloved as the priest read the spousal relationship vows, holding her frigidness, lifeless hand. I pledged to consider her as my wife, and I answered for her as I knew she would plight to take me for her husband. With the Good Book `` with this ring I do wed '' I placed the gilded stripe on her blanch cold finger. And when the non-Christian priest pronounced us man and wife, I raised the veil from her face and gently kissed her cold lifeless lip. I then bid the non-Christian priest depart, and remained alone in the crypt with my beloved. I lifted her from her resting shoes, and holding her conclusion, we slowly turned about the room. Her endearing whiten dress swept the cold stones as we danced our wedding waltz. My own desire steadily grew as I swayed with her trunk held crocked to mine.

When at conclusion the music in my own headspring came to a conclusion, I laid her again in her coffin, which was her espousal bed. Not an unfitting bed I thought, admiring the refined Edward White satin and lacing on which she lay. Lifting the embryonic membrane from her cheek, I gently kissed her and caressed her face. I stroked her breasts, so firm and cool beneath her satin gown. All the while the rage for her grew in me until I could stand it no longer. Lifting the skirt of her garb, to unveil her femininity, I opened my trouser to expose my masculinity. I climbed into the jewel casket and lay atop my beloved, becoming one with her as we would consume on our wedding party Night. Holding her in my passionate embracement, kissing and caressing her frigidity, still look, I gave her the final gift of our dearest, and left her with something of myself to remain with her for the age. I lay thus with her retentive after my physical need was satisfied, my head resting on her satin covered white meat, gently stroking her silky hair. Somehow I sensed that she was at peace, and for a while at least, I shared that peace.

The sunup sun was penetrating the belittled maculate glass window of the hurdle door when I reluctantly rose and separated myself from my beloved. I arranged her dress neatly about her legs and folded her hired man once again at her waistline. From the corsage around the bier I ***********ed a single perfect tense white rose and placed it in her workforce. I gave her coldness lips a last candy kiss and gently lowered the silky humeral veil over her brass. She looked so peaceful, so serene, so beautiful. It was with peachy difficultness that I closed the casket and left her to her divine final respite. The daybreak sun shown brightly as I left the bank vault. I was filled with a great sense of joy that made the day seem all the brighter, for it seemed all around me I sensed the presence of my love Leona. I saw her smiling in the dappled sunlight. I heard her laughter in the whispering leaves. I felt her caress in the gentle breeze. Together we walked from the place and back to my daily world. Yet I know my sprightliness, what ever remains of it, will never be the Lapplander, for always I will be remembering her with joy, and longing for our final perfect tense sum

Here ends the diary of Leona Zimmerman Douglas ...