Cambridge, July 1864

Dear Vinnie

Many write that they do not write because that they have too much to say - I, that I have enough. Do you remember the Whippowil that sang one night on the Orchard fence, and then drove to the South, and we never heard of Him afterward?

He will go Home and I shall go Home, perhaps in the same Train.

It is a very sober thing not to have any Vinnie, and to keep my Summer in strange Towns, what I have not told - but I have found friends in the Wilderness.

You know "Elijah" did, and to see the "Ravens" mending my stockings, would break a Heart long hard - Fanny and Loo are solid Gold, Mrs Bangs and her Daughter very kind, and the Doctor enthusiastic about my getting well - I feel no gayness yet. I suppose I had been discouraged so long.

You remember the Prisoner of Chillon did not know Liberty when it came, and asked to go back to Jail.

Clara and Anna came to see me and brought beautiful flowers. Do you know what made them remember me? I was most surprised. Give them my love and gratitude. They told me about the Day of Pelham, You - dressed in Daisies, and Mr McDonald. I could'nt see you Vinnie. I am glad of all the Roses you find, while your Primrose is gone. How kind Mr Copeland grew.

Was Mr Dudley dear -

Emily wants to be well and with Vinnie - If any one alive wants to get well more, I would let Him first.

I am glad it is me, not Vinnie. Long time might seem further to Her. Give my love to Father and Mother, and Austin. Am so glad His Tobacco is well - I asked Father about it.

Tell Margaret I remember Her, and hope Richard is well.

Dear Vinnie, This is the longest letter I wrote since I was sick, but who needed it most, if not my little Sister? I hope she is not very tired, otnight. How I wish I could rest all those who are tired for me - Big Kiss for Fanny.

Emily.