Nov. 2, 1907
My dear and beloved, good, kind husband,
I have heard to day of the death of a person quite sudden, not so old
as I am. Well, I would like to dispose of
the little silver there is. The six
teaspoons and sugar tongues I thought for dear Rose, and one pair of silver
tablespoons for Edward and Ernest, and one for Lilly – the largest if your Aunt
is gone Home. There is the silver salt
cellars and cream jug that was Mother’s.
Let the two girls have them. The
little sugar tongues are Tat’s. I
should like my youngest grandchild (Marjory)
to have my picture Bible, to learn about God and Jesus from it the same as
their Mothers and Fathers did.
Everything that is mine that is of use that you don’t need, let the
girls have; the things that belong to my family I mean. You know, though, I love my boys dearly, yet
my girls, not being so well off, they are nearest to my heart, and as they are
not likely, by what I see, to have much money at their command. I do hope, for the love you have to me, you
will give Lilly, Rose and Tat five pounds each, and if Gussey is alive, send
her a few shillings often.
I may still be with you for some years to come, but something has
impressed me to night to write this. I
shall not die any the sooner, and I shall feel much happier to have done so.
You will mourn for me, I know, but God will be your strength and stay,
and we shall meet again by the river that flows from the throne of God. Farewell, dear one, I thank you for your
love and goodness all these years, bearing with my failings and shortcomings.
I shall look out to meet you, and give you a welcome into the New
Jerusalem where, through the merits of a crucified and risen Saviour, I shall
be.
Farewell. Your own dear wife,
Ellen.
Ellen died in 1911, aged 89;
John died in 1914
Transcribed by Eulene
Moores, March, 2001