To this association of a month, the present writer owes his personal knowledge of Mrs. Carr. He had never seen her until the fall of 1875, he never saw her after the spring of 1876. Inasmuch as his sixth birthday fell within those extremes of time, he cannot be expected to speak of Mrs. Carr's mental and spiritual characteristics, from his own observation. He remembers her, however, not as a mere name, or as a vague shadow of the past, but with clear-cut distinctness. Of all the women who flitted through his boyhood days never to reappear, Mrs. Carr's personality stands forth best defined.
Perhaps it was because she had no children of her own, that she was able to impress children, from the interest she had in the children of other people,—her absorbing thoughtfulness for youth itself. This was with her no transient pastime, but belonged to that deeper part of her nature which started the stinging tear at little bits of childhood-verses. Her manner with children was not gay and buoyant, but gentle and untiring.
The child felt that her interest did not spring from impulse, to pass with the hour, but that whenever he should be ready, he would find her. In that inherent dignity and seriousness of her natural character, kindliness for the young shone with a steady light which, if it did not flash out in sudden radiant mirth, remained unclouded from any other interest.
Those who have proved restive under Mrs. Carr's unrelaxing discipline, those who may have opposed her in school management, those whom she has faced from the public rostrum in state addresses with logical argumentation, may have found in her a fearlessness that seemed at times the indication of an imperious and unyielding disposition. Doubtless those who opposed her were unable to understand the wounded heart behind the stern, accusing eye. But however brave and determined, there was one thing she feared,—to wound the heart of a child.
During Mr. Carr's ministry in St. Louis, Mrs. Carr devoted herself to study and travel. A large composition book, filled to the last page, shows her indefatigable labors with the German language, under the guidance of Dr. J. W. Ellis. In 1876, she went to the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia, where we find her studying the exhibits with the same thoroughness she had shown in London and Cairo. While she is on the wing, Mr. Carr writes to her from Sedalia in June:
"I'm all right here, a little sick. Friday night I lectured at Mexico. Brother Hardin and I took the freight to Moberly; and then here, in time for the meeting. Dr. Hopson is in the chair and there are twenty-nine preachers present. I met Brother Longan last night, and he laughed as we shook hands. He and I will have a private dig. What do Brothers Wilkes and Rogers think of his 'One Word More' in the last Christian? Do they think Longan is right on the ghost question? This is a charming city. The country around looks like the best part of Fayette County" (of course he is speaking of Kentucky.)
"The little I have seen, is bewitching. I am on for a speech tomorrow, and have been too sick to prepare it, and here I sit with my finger in my mouth! I hope I'll do as well as —— did last night, and I think I will! Brother Monser is my roommate, and we did talk last night! I think he likes my wife better than he does me. Well, I let him. He is a good man. He spoke of the time Brother Mountjoy conducted you to the platform at Mexico."
The following, from Fulton, Missouri, signed by three citizens, shows that while at the Exposition, Mrs. Carr was making plans for future work: "In compliance with your request, we report as follows,—We have interviewed the members of the church in town, and find them quite favorable towards patronizing a school of our own; we think 30 or 40 may certainly be counted upon at the opening. We cannot do anything until we first ascertain that we are going to have a school taught. Desks, seats, etc., can be easily secured when we find there is to be a necessity for them. If preparations be commenced at once, we think a very good school can be founded here."
September 7th, Mrs. Carr wrote to Mr. Carr from Washington, D.C.: "I am writing in the celebrated Washington Post Office. I have learned a great deal during my short stay in Washington. I have made a pilgrimage to the American's Mecca,—but I boiled my peas,—and have visited all the places of interest in the city. I will reach St. Louis to-morrow afternoon. Tell Sister Childers I would rather have the room over the parlor, for you know how wakeful I am. The room over her room we can have for a study. May the Lord abundantly bless my dear husband, and grant me the happiness of seeing him once more face to face."
On the same day, Mr. Carr wrote to Mrs. Carr: "Brother Franklin preaches at Fulton to-day, so I have run down here to Louisiana, Missouri, to try to get a pupil for you" (for the prospective school, perhaps to be established at Fulton.) "You say you will be in St. Louis soon—then in Fulton, I suppose, about the 12th. Is it possible that I shall see my dear wife so soon? I do long to see you and have your encouragement, and enjoy your counsel, your comfort and your love. You say, 'I have just called on H. W. Longfellow. What a grand old man he is! His poetic soul flows through every word he utters. I wonder if he ever did anything that was wrong?' I wish I could have accomplished more in our St. Louis work. I believe our new field at Fulton is promising."