I am staying here yet—yesterday Deb1 came over here about 2 o'clock & we took Modoc & went over (your Mother & I) to the old place2—went down to the pond & all around—I thought the pond, & creek, the big part there to the west, looked beautiful as ever—the big spring, the other way (east) is all stopped up, disappeared altogether—the big south field Wes has got in wheat—otherways things look not much different—pretty lonesome though, as we didn't see chuck nor child nor any living thing on the premises—(but I suppose it will be different when Lizzie3 gets there)—but the jaunt about there & the ride, made us a very pleasant three hours—Nothing new here—Your folks have been up to town twice this week—Van once & your father once—they were all gathering apples for cider yesterday, & to-day are burying the cabbages—Hieniken4 comes over as usual (likes his cider)—this morning I went over to the school library & got six or seven books—he took me—
I go around here the same as ever—jaunt in the woods & loafe about a good deal, (but always sure to be back at meal time)—heavy storms this week two nights, but the days bright & clear every time—
& you, dear son, how do you make out down there? We think & speak about you often—as I write, the wind is blowing a south west gale around here—I suppose it is pretty cold at Atlantic5—It is now ¼ after 1—the school children are playing & making a great racket, & I see Hiniekin just come down from his dinner—the shoemaker has been over for his pitcher of cider—and there I hear Ruth calling me to come to my dinner—so I must bid good bye to you for the present, & God bless you, my darling son—
W WI think of going up to Camden to-morrow or Sunday—most likely Sunday—Mont expects to go over with Ben Sharp soon—