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Wednesday morning.
Sweet and soft as summer, Darlings, maple trees in bloom and grass green in the sunny
places hardly seems it possible this is winter still; and it makes the grass spring in this heart of
mine and each linnet sing, to think that you have come.
Dear Children Mattie Sue for one look at you, for your gentle voices, I'd exchange it all.
The pomp the court the etiquette they are of the earth will not enter Heaven.
Will you write to me why hav'nt you before? I feel so tired looking for you, and still you
do not come. And you love me, come
[On left side and atop the first page:]
Tell Mother and Austin they need'nt flatter themselves we are forgetting them they'll find
themselves much mistaken before long. We think we shall go to Philadelphia next week, tho'
father has'nt decided. Eliza writes most every day, and seems
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soon this is not forever, you know, this mortal life of
our's. Which had you rather I wrote you what I am doing here, or who I am loving there?
Perhaps I'll tell you both, but the "last shall be first, and the first last." I'm loving you at
home I'm coming every hour to your chamber door. I'm thinking when awake, how sweet if you
were with me, and to talk with you as I fall asleep, would be sweeter still.
I think I cannot wait, when I remember you, and that is always, Children. I shall love you
more for this sacrifice.
Last night I heard from Austin and I think he fancies we are losing sight of the things at
home Tell him "not so," Children Austin is mistaken. He says we forget "the Horse, the Cats,
and the geraniums" have not remembered Pat
[On left side of second page:]
impatient for us. I dont know how long we shall
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proposes to sell the farm and move west with
mother to make boquets of my plants, and send them to his friends to come to Washington in his
Dressing gown and mortify me and Vinnie.
Should be delighted to see him, even in "dishabille," and will promise to notice him
whenever he will come. The cats I will confess, have not so absorbed my attention as they are apt
at home, yet do I still remember them with tender emotion; and as for my sweet flowers, I shall
know each leaf and every bud that bursts, while I am from home. Tell Austin, never fear! My
thoughts are far from idle, concerning e'en the trifles of the world at home, but all is jostle, here
scramble and confusion, and sometimes in writing home I cant stop for detail, much
[On left side of third page:]
stay there, nor how long in New York. Father has not de[ci]
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as I would love. Vinnie met the other evening, in the parlor here a certain Mr Saxton, who inquired of her
for his Amherst cousins. Vinnie told him joyfully, all she knew of you, and another evening, took
me down to him. We walked in the hall a long while, talking of you, my Children, vieing with
each other in compliment to those we loved so well. I told him of you both, he seemed very
happy to hear so much of you. He left Washington yesterday morning. I have not been well since
I came here, and that has excused me from some gaieties, tho' at that, I'm gayer than I was before.
Vinnie is asleep this morning she has been out walking with some ladies here and is very tired.
She says much of you wants so much to see you. Give my love to your sister Kiss Dwightie for
me my love for Abbie and Eme, when you see them, and for dear Mr & Mrs Dwight.
[On left side of fourth page:]
ded. Shant you write, when this gets to you? Affy E
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