after Christmas 1859

I should like to thank dear Mrs Bowles for the little Book, except my cheek is red with shame because I write so often.

Even the "Lilies of the field" have their dignities.

Why did you bind it in green and gold?

The immortal colors.

I take it for an emblem. I never read before what Mr Parker wrote. I heard that he was "poison." Then I like poison very well. Austin stayed from service yesterday afternoon, and I, calling upon him, found him reading my Christmas gift. This - together with the fact that Sue asked me the other day how to spell "Puseyite," looks very suspicious.

I wish the "faith of the fathers" did'nt wear brogans, and carry blue umbrellas, I give you all "New Year"! I think you kept gay Christmas from the friend's account, and can only sigh with one not present at "John Gilpin," " and when he next doth ride and race," &c. You picked four berries from my Holly - Grasping Mrs. Bowles!

Today is very cold, yet have I much boquet upon the window pane of moss and fern. I call them Saints' flowers, because they do not romp as other flowers do, but stand so still and white. The snow is very tall between our house and Austin's, which makes the trees so low that they tumble my hair, when I cross the bridge.

I think there will be no spring this year, the flowers are gone so far. Let us have spring in our heart, and never mind the Orchises! Sue looks like "Madame Roland" in the scarlet cape. I tell her so, and she plays Revolution, which has a fine effect! Please have my love, Mother's, and Vinnie's - Carlo sends a brown kiss, and Pussy, a gray and white one, to each of the Children.

Please, now I write so often, make lamplighter of me, then I shall not have lived in vain.

Dear Mrs Bowles, dear Mr Bowles, dear Sally, Sam, and Meme, now all shut your eyes, while I do benediction!

Lovingly,
Emily.