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February 22, 1864
Dear Sir:--
This, you know, is leap-year. You had not thought of it? Well, now that is just like you men. I have thought of it every day for three years, and I am so glad it has come! Shall I tell you why? It is because I can at last ask you to have me for your Wife! I have waited and waited for you to ask me, but you don't do it. I suppose because you think me too old; but I am not very old, not so old as I look, for I have always considered it more respectable to dress soberly, and not put on such gaudy colors as some ladies I can name do, who are forever trying to appear younger than they are. I am only forty-nine. To be sure, I am not handsome-- I never pretended to be-- but then I am not so very homely; and a man of your age doesn't care much about the looks of his wife. I make a very dignified appearance, I assure you, seated at the head of a table and I will always have your coffee hot. I will make you a nice piece of toast every night, with my own hands, and you shall have it warm from the fire. I will get your slippers for you regularly, and I will never "scold." I promise you that. Now do marry me!
The fact is, I would not be so urgent, but I am "hard up." (Don't think I am in the habit of using slang expressions!) I have tried once before, and by the next leap year I shall be fifty-three, and it will be of no use try; I must succeed this year. To be married has been the great aim of my life. When I was younger I went to all the parties and balls I could, but nobody seemed to notice me, and then I took to reading, thinking that might win upon some persons, but don't suppose I have become literary! I would not be a blue-stocking or learned lady for the world. I despise such woman's rights people. I only read Harpers Magazine and the Ledger, and T. S. Arthur's stories (Don't T. S. Arthur write nice, romantic stories?) but I won't read any when we are married, if you don't want me to. Now do have me; pray say Yes, and lot me know by return of mail, for I shall be in an agony of suspense until I hear from you. I am sure you will give me a favorable answer.
Your anxious friend,
Angelina Stager
P. S.---Here is my portrait.
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