me
comes. I suppose you have got your little folks off to bed, and so if
you will take a peep into the parlor here you will see how we are all
occupied--mother in her rocking-chair, with her "specs" on, studying my
Dewees on Children; George toe to toe with her, reading some old German
book, and Lina [4] curled upon the sofa, asleep I fancy, while I sit in
the corner and write you from dear Abby's desk with her pen. Mercy
and Sophia watch over the cradle in the dining-room, where mother's
fifteenth grandchild reposes, unconscious of the honor of sleeping where
honorables, reverends, and reverendesses have slumbered before her. How
strange it seems that _my_ baby is one of this family--bone of their
bone, and flesh of their flesh! I need not say how I miss dear Abby, for
you will see at once that that which was months ago a reality to you,
has just become such to me. It pains me to my heart's core to hear how
she suffered. Dear, dear Abby! how I did love her, and how thankful I
am for her example to imitate and her excellencies to rejoice in! Your
uncle James Lewis [5] spent last night here, and this morning he prayed
a delightful prayer, which really softened my whole soul. I do not
know when I have had my own wants so fervently expressed, or been more
edified at family worship, and his allusion to Abby was very touching.

The following extracts from letters written to her husband, while he was
absent in Maine, may be thought by some to go a little too much into
the trifling details of daily life and feeling, but do not such details
after all form no small part of the moral warp and woof of human
experience?

_To her husband New Bedford, August 27th_.

I heard this morning that old Mrs. Kendrick was threatened with typhus
fever, and went down soon after breakfast to see how she did, and, as I
found Mrs. Henrietta had watched with her and was looking all worn out,
I begged her to let me have her baby this afternoon, that she might have
a chance to rest; so, after dinner, Sophia went down and got her. At
first she set up a lamentable scream, but we huddled on her cloak and
put her with our baby into the carriage and gave them a ride. She is
a _proper_ heavy baby, and my legs ache well with trotting round the
streets after the carriage. Think of me as often as you can and pray for
me, and I will think of you and pray for you all the time.

_Tuesday Evening_.--You see I am writing you a sort of little journal,
as you sa