8 April 1853

Dear Austin.

I've expected a letter from you every day this week, but have been disappointed - and last night I thought I should have one as surely as I lived, but I did not. I'm sure you are very busy, or I should have had a note, but I will "bide and see." It seems as if you'd been gone several hundred years, and it had been some centuries since we had heard from you, and I should like to know when you were coming home, for if it is'nt probable that you are coming some time, I think I shall take the stage, or run away myself. I asked you this same question in my last Saturday's letter, but you make me no reply. I cant help wondering sometimes if you think of us as often as we all do of you, and want to see us half as much, I think about this a great deal, and tho' I dont talk with Vinnie or Sue, about it, yet it often troubles me. I think we miss each other more every day that we grow older, for we're all unlike most everyone, and are therefore more dependent on each other for delight.

Last evening Sue and I walked down to the Old Oak Tree, and sat there and talked a long while, principally of you, and ourselves. Sue said she guessed you were writing us, as we sat there talking, and we both wished you were there. Last Saturday evening I spent with Sue in her room - she read me some funny things which you had just written her, concerning her sorry suitors, and your excellent suggestions to prevent future accidents! I think you are rather hard upon unfortunate gentlemen - presume they would like to shoot you, if they knew you had won the bird.

Sue was here to supper last night, and I could'nt but think of a great many things, which we will talk about sometime, if you ever come home.

Mrs Scott is ironing here today - we shall have all your clothes in nice order to send by Mr Green. When is the good man coming? I get quite out of patience, waiting to send your sugar. I hope some country friend has given you a taste long before this time, for you must miss such little luxuries, you always get at home.

Have you had any maple molasses, or any Graham Bread, since you have been away? Every time a new loaf comes smoking on to the table, we wonder if you have any where you have gone to live.

I should love to send you a loaf, dearly, if I could. Vinnie sends her love to you, and thanks you very much for the Rubber. She finds it "capital," she says, and she will write you a letter, when the valise goes back. Mother sends her love, and says she thinks very often she shall certainly write to you, but she knows that we write so often she thinks we say all there is, and so she recollects you, but says nothing about it. I have mended your gloves, Austin, and Vinnie, all the clothes which were out of repair. I have written you in a hurry. I shall never write any more grand letters to you, but all the little things, and the things called trifles, and the crickets upon the hearth, you will be sure to hear.

Emilie.

Wont you write to me pretty son? I send that letter of Mat's, wh' I said I would. Much love from all. We have charming weather here. I know you would be so happy, if you were at home - but you'll come soon and we shall be glad to see you.

Jerry inquires for you.