Letter, Kate Gleason to James Gleason

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William Gleason,
Manufacturer of Machinists Tools,
Office, Brown’s Race,

Rochester, N.Y., Nov. 10th. 1888

Dear Jim,-
Your second communication explaining the mysterious card is
just received. You have my blessing. I hope this move won’t inter-
fere with your cultivating Prof. Smith for I don’t think any one
society down there all boiled down could produce such a perfect gen-
tleman as he is.
4.35 P.M.
When I was up to the bank this
morning, I stopped into Brown’s to see how much he would charge for
as society pin for my experience with Heggie is that he tucks the
price right to you. Brown would make a pin like the Delta U. cut
in the ’89 Cornellian plain for $4, set with pearals, or sapphires or
emeralds or garnets or anything like that $1.50 extra. It occurred
to me that a pin set like the one in the Cornellian with pearls,
and emeralds for the corners and one big emerald in the center
would be mighty pretty. ^appropriate for an Irishman. It would cost $7. Diamonds at the
corner and in the center would be handsome but a diamond big enough
for that center would cost a small fortune. Let me know if this
price is lower than Heggie’s as I think it is and I will have it made
for you. Brown makes all the pins for the Rochester University
boys.
I mail you to-day a paper with an account of the big fire we
had down here last night. It was something terrible, Jim. The
wind blew a gale and sent great sparks and chunks of burning wood all

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over the city. The sparks flew as far as Irwin’s house, the blaze
was so bright, you could see to read a newspaper by it at Mr. Walder’s
on Fulton Av. We had to have men posted all over our roofs at the
Works with pails of water. I stood on the platform behind the
foundry and threw great burning brands over the brink. If it were
not for the rain that had soaked everything through, we would have
been goners. The worst was the awful loss of life. We were
late taking a heat off in the foundry and so all our moulders were
over trying to catch the men who jumped from the building. To hear
the poor creatures shriek and pray for help was heart-sickening and
the awfully desperate chances they took in jumping made one almost
frantic. Three men jumped from the third story at the back way
down to the flats, -think of that. Two of them were killed by the
fall but the other struck in a bed of mud and walked off. One
poor little boy was high up in the building ten feet above the ex-
tension ladder. When he saw it could’nt reach him, he jumped, missed
the life net and was dashed to death on the stones. I never want to
see such awful things again. It makes a body’s hair turn gray.
When I came down to work this morning, I went to the back of the
foundry to have a view of the ruins and down on the flats I saw poor
old Mr. Stone who seems to have gone crazy looking for his son.
You remember his daughter-in-law was murdered by a tramp about a year
ago and now her husband is burned to death. The poor father was
poking about on the flats, trying to wade through the icy streams
that goes from our water wheel so as to get over to the Gorsline
flats and nothing anyone would say seemed to make any impression on
him.
Lovingly yours,
Kate.