I went to Boston last Saturday, and there I received your letter. I have now to communicate to you only my wishes to tarry in Boston a quarter, if convenient. In my last letter to my Father I did not say anything respecting it because I did not wish Mrs. Wyman to know I had an inclination to leave her school, but only because I thought you would wish me to come home when my quarter was out. I have a great desire to see my family, but I have a still greater desire to finish my education.

Still I have to beg you to remind my friends and acquaintances that I remain the same Eliza, and that I bear the same love I ever did to them, whether they have forgotten me or not.

Tell my little Brothers and Sisters I want to see them very much indeed. Write me an answer as soon as you can conveniently. I shall send you some of my work which you never have seen,—it is my Arithmetic.

Permit me, my Honored Mother, to claim the title of

With pleasure I sit down to the best of parents to inform them of my situation, as doubtless they are anxious to hear,—permit me to tell them something of my foolish heart. When I first came here I gave myself up to reflection, but not pleasing reflections. When Mr. Boyd^[2] left me I burst into tears and instead of trying to calm my feelings I tried to feel worse. I begin to feel happier and will soon gather up all my Philosophy and think of the duty that now attends me, to think that here I may drink freely of the fountain of knowledge, but I will not dwell any longer on this subject. I am not doing anything but writing, reading, and cyphering. There is a French Master coming next Monday, and he will teach French and Dancing. William Boyd and Mr. Wyman advise me to learn French, yet if I do at all I wish you to write me very soon what you think best, for the school begins on Monday. Mr. Wyman says it will not take up but a very little of my time, for it is but two days in the week, and the lessons only 2 hours long. Mr. Wyman says I must learn Geometry before Geography, and that I better not begin it till I have got through my Cyphering.

We get up early in the morning and make our beds and sweep the chamber, it is a chamber about as large as our kitchen chamber, and a little better finished. There’s 4 beds in the chamber, and two persons in each bed, we have chocolate for breakfast and supper.

I hope I am in some measure sensible of the great obligation I am under to you for the inexpressible kindness and attention which I have received of you from the cradle to my present situation in school. Many have been your anxious cares for the welfare of me, your child, at every stage and period of my inexperienced life to the present moment. In my infancy you nursed and reared me up, my inclinations you have indulged and checked my follies—have liberally fed me with the bounty of your table, and from your instructive lips I have been admonished to virtue, morality, and religion. The debt of gratitude I owe you is great, yet I hope to repay you by duly attending to your counsels and to my improvement in useful knowledge.

Is the sincere wish of your dutiful Daughter,

With what pleasure did I receive your letter and hear the praises of an approving Mother! It shall be my study to please and make you happy. You said you hoped that I was not disappointed in learning French; I hope you think that I have too much love and reverence for my Parents to take any thing amiss that they thought most proper for me. I was very happy to hear that you had received the bonnets, and I hope they will suit you. I have never received a letter from Horatio^[3] since I have been here. I expect to begin Geometry as soon as I have done Cyphering, which I hope will be soon, for I have got as far as Practice. Tell Isabella^[4] and Mama^[5] King, that some letters from them would give me great pleasure and that I hope to experience it soon. I should have written to Mama King, but I had not time, but I intend to, the first opportunity. I have found the nubs and sent them to Portland. I received your letter by my Brother Boyd, and was very much surprised to hear that Octavia^[6] was going to have the small-pox. Please to give my love to Harriet Emerson, and Mary Rice, and tell them that I intend to write to them very soon and shall expect some letters from them. Give my love to all my friends and tell them that I often think on them, and I hope they will not forget your affectionate daughter

It is a long time since I received a letter from home, and I have neglected my duty in not writing to you oftener. I shall send you with this some of my Pieces, and you will see if you think I have improved any: the Epitaph on the Hon. Thomas Russell was the first one that I wrote. My brother Boyd never came to see me when he was up, only called and delivered me the letter. I have never heard any thing since from Boston, nor seen any of my acquaintance from there. I have not been to Boston since Election. I expected to have gone to Commencement, but I did not. I fear that the time allotted for my stay here will be too short for me to go so far as I wish, for I shall have to go much farther in Arithmetic than I had an idea of, then go over it again in a large book of my own writing; for my Instructor does not wish to give me a superficial knowledge only. He says if I am very diligent; he thinks that 9 months from the time I came will do, if I can’t stay longer; I should feel happy, and very grateful, if you thought proper to let me tarry that time. I have Cyphered now farther than Isabella did, for I have been thro’ Practice, the Rule of Three and Interest and two or three rules that I never did before.

I would thank you to write me word if you are willing for me to stay so long. With wishing you health and all the happiness which you are capable of enjoying, permit me to subscribe myself

Your affectionate and most dutiful Daughter

I am very sorry for your trouble, and sympathize with you in it. I now regret being from home, more than ever, for I think I might be of service to you now the children are sick. I hope they will be as much favored in their sickness now, as they were when they had the measles. I am very sorry that Jane has broken her arm, for it generally causes a long confinement, and I fear she has not got patience enough to bear it without a great deal of trouble. I suppose that Isabella will be very much worried about her babe. I would thank you to write me very often now—for I shall be very anxious about the children. I believe I have got some news to tell you, that is, I have found one of your acquaintance, and relation; it is a Mrs. Sawyer, before she was married she was Polly King, and she says that you kept at their house when you was in Boston. I believe I have nothing more to request, only for you to give my love to all the children, and kiss each of them for me, and tell them to be as patient as they can. Give my respects to my Father and tell him I want to receive a letter from him very much.

I am your affectionate and dutiful daughter

I received your packet of things the 20th inst. and was very glad of them. If you will be so kind as to send me word whether Sarah’s^[7] ear-rings were in the basket, I will be much obliged to you. I have forgotten whether I did or not—write me word if you like your bonnet and the children’s, I hope you do.

Give my love to Sarah and all the children, and kiss Arixene,^[8] and Robert for me. Never did I know the worth of good parents half so much as now I am from them; I never missed our closet so much, and above all things our cheese and Butter which we have but very little of, but I am very contented. I wish you would send me up my patterns all of them for I want them very much indeed, for I expect to work me a gown.

You mentioned in yours, of the 16th inst. that it was a long time since you had received a letter from me; but it was owing to my studies which took up the greater part of my time; for I have been busy in my Arithmetic, but I finished it yesterday, and expect now to begin my large manuscript Arithmetic. You say that you shall regret so long an absence; not more certainly than I shall, but a strong desire to possess more useful knowledge than I at present do, I can dispense with the pleasure a little longer of beholding my friends and I hope I shall be better prepared to meet my good parents towards whom my heart overflows with gratitude. You mentioned in your letter about my Winter clothes of which I will make out a Memorandum. I shall want a coat and you may send it up for me to make, or you may make it your self, but I want it made loose with a belt. I wish you to send me enough of all my slips to make long sleeves that you can, and I wish you would pattern my dark slip to make long sleeves. I want a flannel waist, and a petticoat, for my white one dirts so quick that I had rather have a colored one. I have nothing more to write, only give my love to all who ask after me. I have just received a letter from Horatio, he is very well.

Yours of the 11th of Sept. was gratefully received by your affectionate Sister; and your excuse at first I thought not very good, but now I think it very good, for I have been plagued very much myself. William Boyd came from Portland about a fortnight since and by him I was informed that Sister Isabella’s child was very sick and he was in doubt whether it would ever get over it. I feel for Isabella much more than I can tell you who is but just entered the bonds of Matrimony should so soon have sickness, and perhaps Death, be one of the guests of her family. I was also informed that the children had all got over the hooping cough and that Octavia was much healthier than she was before she had the small-pox. By my last letter from home Papa informed me that I might tarry all Winter and I have concluded to. I suppose you would like to know how I spend my time here. I shall answer, very well; my going abroad is chiefly in Boston, for I don’t go out much in Medford. It was vacation about a week since and I spent it in Boston very agreeably.

I keep at Mr. Boyd’s when I am there, and Mrs. Little’s. I go to Boston every public day as Mr. B. is so good as to send for me. I am very fond of that family and likewise Mrs. Little’s. You speak of my writing and you think that I have improved. I am glad of it. I hope I shall make as great progress in my other studies and be an “Accomplished Miss.”

Horatio do write very soon; will you?

You mentioned in your letter, my dear mother, that Cousin Mary informed you that I expected to go to the Ball. I did think that I should go but I altered my mind; I had 2 or 3 invitations but I would not accept of any of them. My cloak likewise you mentioned something about, which I shall attend to when I go to Boston. I expect to go to Boston at Thanksgiving, for there is a vacation of a week. I had a letter from Horatio yesterday, he was well. Isabella wrote me word that my Father had got the Rheumatism very bad, which I am sorry to hear. If the wishes or prayers of Eliza would heal the wound, it would not long remain unheal’d.

My love to all the children, tell them I don’t dare to tell them how much I want to see them, nor even think. My love to all that ask after me. May all the happiness that is possible for you to enjoy be experienced is the sincere wish of

I received yours with pleasure and was happy to hear that you were better. I hope you will continue growing better until the complaint is entirely removed. I came from Boston yesterday after spending vacation there. I went to the theater the night before for the first time, and Mr. Turner came into the box where I was. I did not know him at first, neither did he me, but he soon found me out. With this I shall send some pieces. My respect is justly due to my good Mother, and my love to all who ask after me, the children in particular. I hope to improve to your satisfaction, which will amply reward me for all my pains.

I must conclude with wishing you health and happiness.

The contents of your letter surprised me at first; it may sometimes be of service to me, for while I have such a monitor, I never can act contrary to such advice. No, my Father, I hope by the help of Heaven never to cause shame or misery to attend the grey hairs of my Parents nor myself, but on the contrary to glad your declining years with happiness and that you may never have cause to rue the day that gave me existence. My heart feels no attachment except to my family. I respect many of my friends but love none but my Parents. Your letter shall be my guide from home, and when I again behold our own peaceful mansion then will I again be guided by my Parents’ happiness,—their happiness shall be my pursuit. My heart overflows with gratitude toward you and my good Mother. I am sensible of the innumerable obligations I am under to you. You mention in your letter about my pieces, which you say you imagine are purloined; I am very sorry if they are, for I set more by them than any of my pieces; one was the Mariner’s Compass, and the other was a Geometrical piece. I spent Thanksgiving at Mrs. Little’s and Christmas here. I have finished my large Manuscript Arithmetic and want to get it bound, and then I shall send it to you. I have done a small Geometry book and shall begin a large one to-morrow, such a one as you saw at Mr. Wyman’s if you remember. It is the beginning of a new year; allow me then to pay you the compliments of the season.—I pray that this year to you may prove a year of health, prosperity, and love. My quarter will be out the 8th day of next month, it will be in about four weeks. I wish you would write me soon how I am to come home—for I wish to know.

I should be very glad if you could make it convenient to come for me, for I wish you to come. Give my love to Irene and tell her I believe she owes me a letter; if you please you may tell her that part of my letter which concerns school affairs.

My love is due to all who will take the trouble to ask after me. Tell Mamma I have begun the turban and will send it as soon as I finish it. When I see her I will tell her why I did not do it before.

Accept my sincere wishes that My Parents may enjoy all the happiness that ever mortals know.

By Capt. Bradbury I was informed that you wished me to come home with him, which I should have complied with, had not I have seen my Uncle William^[9] to-day, and he informed me that you had concluded to let me spend some time in Boston, which I was very glad to hear. I shall now wait until I hear certain, which I wish you to send me word by the next post.—I shall enclose in this a card of Mrs. Rawson’s terms which you may peruse; until then I remain with the same affection,

I am again placed at school under the tuition of an amiable lady, so mild, so good, no one can help loving her; she treats all her scholars with such a tenderness as would win the affection of the most savage brute, tho’ scarcely able to receive an impression of the kind. I learn Embroidery and Geography at present and wish your permission to learn Musick. You may justly say, my best of Fathers, that every letter of mine is one which is asking for something more; never contented—I only ask, if you refuse me, I know you do what you think best, and I am sure I ought not to complain, for you have never yet refused me anything that I have asked, my best of Parents, how shall I repay you? You answer, by your good behaviour. Heaven grant that it may be such as may repay you. A year will have rolled over my head before I shall see my Parents. I have ventured from them at an early age to be so long a time absent, but I hope I have learnt a good lesson by it—a lesson of experience, which is the best lesson I could learn.

I have described one of the blessings of creation in Mrs. Rawson, and now I will describe Mrs. Wyman as the reverse: she is the worst woman I ever knew of all that I ever saw; nobody knows what I suffered from the treatment of that woman—I had the misfortune to be a favorite with Miss Haskell and Mr. Wyman, she said, and she treated me as her own malicious heart dictated; but whatever is, is right, and I learnt a good lesson by it. I wish you, my Father, to write an answer soon and let me know if I may learn music.—Give my best respects to my good Mother, tho’ what I say to my Father applies to my Mother as much as to my Father. May it please the disposer of all events to return me safe home to the bosom of my friends in health safely. I never was happier in my life I think, and my heart overflows toward my heavenly Father for it; and may it please him to continue it and afford it to my Parents, is the sincere wish of

Now at the end of the week, when my hopes are almost exhausted of seeing my brother, I attempt to address you,—a task which was once delightful but now painful since my Mother’s last letter. I see my errors, and if I can hope they will no longer be remembered by my Parents, I shall again be happy.

My Mother’s letter greatly surprised me after having received so different a one from my Father. Indeed, my Parents, did you think I would any longer cherish a passion you disapproved? After expressing your disapprobation it was enough, your wishes are and ever shall be my commands. I have spent a week of painful expectation; no letter, no brother, no father have come, and I am now in anxious expectation to receive a letter to-night, but I dare not hope it to be so. Do, my Father, as soon as you receive this send for me as soon as possible, for my quarter at Mrs. Rawson’s was out last Saturday, and as circumstances are, I thought it proper not to go to Mr. Boyd’s. I beg of you to send for me home directly, for I only board at Mrs. Rawson’s now, for I am in expectation of seeing or hearing every day and therefore I have not begun any more work. My time is spending without gain. I am at Mrs. Frazier’s and have been here ever since Thursday. I shall go back to Mrs. Rawson’s to-night and there wait for further orders. Time hangs more heavy than ever it did before. I am with the most sincere Respect and affection

I am sorry to have given Aunt Porter such an opportunity of charging me with neglect in executing her commission, but I can easily convince her I did not deserve censure; for until last Friday I never received yours of Nov. 22nd, and I shall execute that part of Aunt’s request which I can in Scarborough—the gown patterns I shall enclose. The one with a fan back is meant to just meet before and pin the Robings, no string belt or any thing. The other pattern is a plain waist with strips of the same sticked on, and for white, laced between with bobbin or cord. I have a muslin done so with black silk cord, which looks very handsome—and I have altered my brown silk into one like the other pattern. I was over at Saco yesterday and saw one Mary [King] had made in Boston. It was a separate waist, or rather the breadths did not go quite up. The waist was plain with one stripe of cording let in behind and the rest of the waist perfectly plain—the skirt part was plaited in box plaits 3 of a side—which reached to the shoulder strap and only enough left to meet strait before, as is one of the patterns I have sent. You ask so many questions that I hardly know how to answer them. Isabella is almost recovered—her family well. The baby I believe will be named Charles Orlando. The assemblies begin next Thursday—as also do Saco assemblies, and on Friday I go to the Saco assembly—probably I shall go to next Portland assembly. You ask how Mr. Little and Laura do? A strange question. Laura is well or was last Thursday, and Mr. Little is soon to be married to Miss Bowman of Exeter.

Papa has been confined to the house a week yesterday by a wound on his leg which he made with an axe, he wounded the tendon which leads from his great toe up, he cut it a little above the ankle—it has been very painful. Give my love to Aunt, tell her I shall not be able to come down this winter, for my next visit will be to Boston. Write me the next opportunity respecting the sables, and the time and how Uncle goes to Boston that I may be in readiness.

Family all well.

After the toil, the bustle and fatigue of the week I turn towards home to relate the manner in which I have spent my time. I have been continually engaged in parties, plays, balls, &c. &c. Since the first week I came to town, I have attended all the balls and assemblies, one one week and one the next. They have regular balls once a fortnight, so that I have been to one or the other every Thursday. They are very brilliant, and I have formed a number of pleasing acquaintances there; last night, which was ball night, I drew No. 5, & 2nd sett drew a Mr. Snow, bad partner; danced voluntarily with Mr. Oliver, Mr. Andrews, Mr. McPherson; danced until 1 o’clock; they have charming suppers, table laid entirely with china. I had charming partners always. To-day I intended going to Mrs. Codman’s, engaged to a week ago, but wrote a billett I was indisposed, but the truth of the matter was that I wanted to go to the play to see Bunker hill, and Uncle (William King) wished I should—therefore I shall go. I have engagements for the greater part of next week. To-morrow we all go to hear Fisher Ames’ Eulogy. And in the morning going to look at some instruments; however we got one picked out that I imagine we shall take, 150 dollars—a charming toned one and not made in this country. I am still at Mrs. Frazier’s, she treats me with the greatest attention. Nancy is indeed a charming girl,—I have the promise of her company the ensuing summer. I have bought me a very handsome skirt, white satin. Richard Cutts went shopping with me yesterday morn, engaged to go to the play next week with him. For mourning for Washington the ladies dress as much as if for a relation, some entirely in black, but now many wear only a ribbon with a line painted on it. I have not yet been out to see Mrs. Rawson and Miss Haskell, but intend to next week. Uncle William [King] has been very attentive to me—carried me to the play 3 or 4 times and to all the balls and assemblies excepting the last which I went with Mr. Andrews. Give my best respects to Pappa and Mamma, and tell them I shall soon be tired of this dissipated life and almost want to go home already. I have a line to write to Mary Porter and must conclude.

Now Mamma, what do you think I am going to ask for?—a wig. Eleanor^[10] has got a new one just like my hair and only 5 dollars, Mrs. Mayo one just like it. I must either cut my hair or have one, I cannot dress it at all stylish. Mrs. Coffin bought Eleanor’s and says that she will write to Mrs. Sumner to get me one just like it; how much time it will save—in one year we could save it in pins and paper, besides the trouble. At the assembly I was quite ashamed of my head, for nobody has long hair. If you will consent to my having one do send me over a 5 dollar bill by the post immediately after you receive this, for I am in hopes to have it for the next Assembly—do send me word immediately if you can let me have one. Tell Octavia she must write soon, and that there are many inquiries after her.

To Octavia Southgate—Mrs. Frazier’s.

In the Hospital! Bless your heart, I am not there! Who told you I was? Mr. Davis I know, if you see him tell him I shall scold him for it. Martha has heard the same; true I had some idea of going in, but gave it up as soon as I heard Dr. Coffin did not attend. Horatio did likewise. Your last to Mamma is dated from Mrs. Frazier’s; how, Octavia, shall we discharge the debt of gratitude which we owe her? it had exceeded my hopes of payment before you went, surely it is now doubled. You mention nothing of any letters from me; I have written several and in one told you particularly that Mamma wished you by all means to take lessons in music; you don’t tell us what you have done since you have been in Medford. Martha writes me that you are to spend part of vacation at Mrs. Sumner’s. What has become of Ann and Harriett? I am out of patience waiting for them, why don’t they write, it is an age since I have had one line. Col. Boyd I hope will bring some letters from all of you. I have heard that Eleanor Coffin received attentions from Sam Davis when in Boston, did you hear of it? Martha writes me too that Mr. Andrews is paying attention to a young lady in Boston, but does not mention her name, Miss Packman I guess; he was said to be her swain last winter. Mary Porter went home last week, I went with her, she has now gone to Topsham to tarry until uncle returns. I anxiously expect a letter from Ann or Harriett to know the reason that they don’t hasten their visit. I am learning my 12th tune, Octavia, I almost worship my Instrument,—it reciprocates my sorrows and joys, and is my bosom companion. How I long to have you return! I have hardly attempted to sing since you went away. I am sure I shall not dare to when you return. I must enjoy my triumph while you are absent; my musical talents will be dim when compared with the lustre of yours. Pooh, Eliza, you are not envious? no! I will excel in something else if not in music. Oh nonsense, this spirit of emulation in families is destructive of concord and harmony, at least I will endeavor to excel you in sisterly affection. If you outshine me in accomplishments, will it not be all in the family? Certainly. How I wish I had a balloon, I would see you and all my friends in Boston in a trice. I have not got one. Do tell me is Ann the same dear good friend and as much my sister romp as ever? Tell her I am so affronted with her that I won’t speak to her. Sister Boyd is over, won’t go home this week; about your work, I will go down stairs and ask Mamma,—a mourning piece with a figure in it, and two other pictures, mates—figures of females I think handsomer than Landscapes. Mrs. Rawson knows what is best,—thus says Mamma—she don’t wish any screens. Mr. Little, the bearer of this, another beau I send you, and here is poor I not a bit of a one, Doc. Bacon excepted, and even him, Cousin Mary, selfish creature, has lugged off his heart and left the remainder here, so we might as well have a stump—poor soul, his face looks like a Piana,^[11] one continued blush—I suppose for fear of hearing her name mentioned, and she, unreasonable creature! thinks he is not all perfection. Unaccountable taste! he is very delightsome surely,—how long shall I rant at this rate. I long to go to Portland and then I shall see some being that looks like a beau—or a monkey, or anything you please;—To supply the loss I often look out the window, till my imagination forms one out of a tree or anything that I see, we can imagine anything you know. Bless my soul, Mr. L. is waiting!

Give my love, respects, everything, to all.

I believe, my Dear Mother, that you meant to give me a very close lesson in Economy—when you cut out the shirts for me to make. You had measured off the bodies of two and cut them part way in—and also the sleeves were marked,—after I had cut them off there was a quarter of a yard left. I now wanted the collars and all the trimmings. I made out after a great deal of planning to get out the shoulder pieces,—wrist-bands, 1 pair of neck gussets and one of sleeve do., are still wanting. I shall send this on by Mrs. Smith, and if you can find out when she returns I wish you would send some linen and some more shirts to make as I shall soon finish these, and can as well finish making up the piece here as at home. I was very sorry I did not wear my habit down as I shall want it when I go to Wiscassett. If you can possibly find an opportunity, I wish you would send it to me. Aunt Porter’s child is one of the most troublesome ones I ever saw, he cries continually, and she is at present destitute of any help except a little girl about 12 years old. I wish, my Dear Mother, that you would forward all letters that come to Scarborough for me immediately. I hope you will enjoy yourself in Portland this week. I was almost tempted to wish to stay a week there,—there were so many parties, and so gay every body appeared—that I longed to stay and take part. I forgot all about it before I got to Topsham,—much as I enjoy society I never am unhappy when without it,—I cannot but feel happy that I was brought up in retirement,—since from habit at least, I have contracted a love for solitude, I never feel alone when I have my pen or my book. I feel that I ought to be very happy in the company of such a woman as Aunt Porter, for I really don’t know any one whose mind is more improved, and which makes her both a useful and instructing companion. Her sentiments and opinions are more like those I have formed than any person I know of. I think my disposition like hers, and I feel myself drawn towards her by an irresistible impulse, not an hour but she reminds me of you and I sincerely think her more like you than your own sister. I shall write you when I go farther East. I don’t know what I shall do about writing Octavia, as Mrs. Rawson told her I wrote on an improper subject when I asked her in my letter if Mr. Davis was paying attention to Eleanor Coffin, and she would not let her answer the question. This is refining too much, and if I can’t write as I feel, I can’t write at all. Now I ask you, Mamma, if it is not quite a natural question when we hear that any of our friends are paid attention to by any gentleman, to ask a confirmation of the report from those we think most likely to know the particulars. Never did I write a line to Octavia but I should have been perfectly willing for you or my Father to have seen. You have always treated me more like a companion than a daughter, and therefore would make allowance for the volatile expressions I often make use of. I never felt the least restraint in company with my Parents which would induce me to stifle my gaiety, and you have kindly permitted me to rant over all my nonsense uncorrected, and I positively believe it has never injured. I must bid you good-night.

Pray don’t forget to send some more shirts.

I must again trouble my Dear Mother by requesting her to send on my spotted muslin. A week from next Saturday I set out for Wiscassett, in company with Uncle William and Aunt Porter. Uncle will fetch Ann^[12] to meet us there, and as she has some acquaintance there we shall stay some time and aunt will leave us and return to Topsham; so long a visit in Wiscassett will oblige me to muster all my muslins, for I am informed they are so monstrous smart as to take no notice of any lady that can condescend to wear a calico gown, therefore, dear mother, to ensure me a favorable reception, pray send my spotted muslin by the next mail after you receive this, or I shall be on my way to Wiscassett. I shall go on horseback,—how I want my habit,—I wish it had not been so warm when I left home and I should have worn it. I am in hopes you will find an opportunity to send it by a private conveyance before I go, but my muslin you must certainly send by the mail. Aunt Porter’s little Rufus is very sick, poor child, he was born under an evil star. I believe Pandora opened her box upon him when he first came into existence. The mumps, I believe, now afflict him; night before last we were alarmed about him for fear of his having the Quinsy, but I believe he is in no danger of that now. I wish to hear from home very much.