Letters From Charlotte...

Charlotte Amalie Lexington is an adventurous girl growing up in the early 20th century!
Every week or so, she sends a letter to her best friend and detective Emmeline.
Join Charlotte and Emily as they write about their adventures all over the world to discover what the world is truly made of...

Dear Em,

                  Greetings from Europe! I hope this letter finds you well. Mother tells me you’ve been ill, and I beg to know what ails you. As for my journeys in the Europe Mountains, they are beyond reason. I cannot tell you how much thrill tis. My traveling companions are some of the only people on earth with personality to its entirety. Let me specify…
Richard Hollingsworth is our guide; a man of his fifties or less. He has a rather gruff man, with heavy whiskers and a stiff neck. But I’ve learned to see past that. He knows these mountains better than the roaming wildlife. Funny, he always carries a walking stick in his left had with such a peculiar manner! But let me tell you about George, his grandson. George is as strange as his grandfather. He is only but a few years younger than us, but is highly informed of mountain history. His grandfather must teach him well. He has bright red curly hair (just like his grandfather). I tried asking his for directions once, and he merely laughed at me. “You’re not but a child, are you?” I puffed up my chest and tipped my nose. “I most certainly am not. Why, I’m probably older than you!” He waved his hand in the air and ran up ahead of us. I suppose his height and position give him confidence. There are two other men in the hiking game- Will and Phillip. They’re off to Harvard just as soon as they finish this trip. I praise them highly for studying so diligently. Will is tall and slim with blond, smooth hair. He plans to be a captain. Phillip is a brown, with dreams of being a scientist. But both desire to take a tour guide before settling in. Besides them, is a young man named Hadley who is extremely stubborn and suspicious. Does the name not get on your nerves as it does mine? Just the same, everyone is tired of him yet, and I look forward to the day Mr. Hollingsworth throws him over the side of a cliff. Dreadful, I am, but you aren’t the one hearing his annoying chatter each split second. He’s a young age of sixteen, with absolutely no plans for the future. He talks of life in the city, and wont stop for a minute to rest. Most suspiciously enough, his words seem to author around my name. “Oh Miss Charlotte, you do look lovely today!” Oh, Miss Charlotte, what a lovely way to walk!” I’d rather him criticize my every move…not flatter it. Goodness knows I try hard to stay with the group, but in just two minutes they can wander one way and I am under Hadley Swath’s care. But forget about him. I have met three other people on the trip that our all dears. Mrs. Blow, a seamstress, who is a true dove tittles about everywhere she goes. You would enjoy her, I am sure of it. She is widowed, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she did not propose to Mr. Zuckerman, the butcher. “Of all the preposterous things!” Mother would say.  I know for a fact he tries his best to stay out of her way. Next is Mr. Farouche a lawyer from Spain. He is in Europe for business and took a tour out of mere curiosity. Couldn’t you find that just a tad bit strange? He does not say much, but carries a tiny notebook wherever her goes. Anyhow, I admire Anna Collins, a senior from Ireland. She is a cute one, whom Hadley picks at as well. Her plans are simple-just like ours; marriage, home, and bounty. I asked what made her settle down when she had potential for the Broadway life, but she merely quoted her interests were otherwise. “If my mother hadn’t listened to God, she would be in a show, or at a bar, and I would not be here. But she stopped her social life, and married at 18. Now I have a chance to do the same…” I commend her for this, and hope that someday we can be like her. I pray my family is well. How is little Elizabeth’s fever? Jonathan’s ankle? I can only imagine the lonesomeness you’ve had on the farm this summer, and I apologize. Perhaps next year our exertions will take us far out in the Mediterranean, or bare-back riding in the country! I hope to be home in a fortnight.

                                                                                          Yours Truly,

`                                                                                                           Charlotte Amalie Lexington


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