't have everything, and I am almost too
comfortable with what I have. A. is busy reading Southey to her
"children"; baby is off searching for eggs, and her felicity reached its
height when she found an ambitious hen had laid two in her carriage,
which little thought what it was coming to the country for. I think the
dear child already looks better; she lives in the open air and enjoys
everything.
Mrs. Buck lives about half a mile below us, and we run back and forth
many times a day. I have already caught the country fashion of rushing
to the windows the moment a wheel or an opening gate is heard. I fancy
everybody is bringing me a letter or else want to send one to the
office, and the only way to do that is to scream at passers-by and
ask them if they are going that way. If you hear that I am often seen
driving a flock of geese down the road, or climbing stone walls, or
creeping through bar fences, you needn't believe a word of it, for I am
a pattern of propriety, and pride myself on my dignity. I hope, now
you have begun so charmingly, that you will write again. You know what
letters are in the country.
_To her Husband, Westport, June 27._
I wonder where you are this lovely morning? Having a nice time
somewhere, I do hope, for it is too fine a day to be lost. If you want
to know where I am, why I'm sitting at the window writing on a trunk
that I have just lifted into a chair, in order to make a table. For
table there, is none in this room, and how am I to write a book without
one? If ever I get down to the village, I hope to buy, beg, borrow or
steal one, and until that time am putting off beginning my new
Little Susy. [7] That note from Miss Warner, by the by, spoke so
enthusiastically of the Six Teachers that I felt compensated for the
mortification of hearing -------- call it a "nice" book. You will be
sorry to hear that I have no prospect of getting a horse. I am quite
disappointed, as besides the pleasure of driving our children, I hoped
to give Mrs. Buck and the boys a share in it. Only to think of her
bringing up from the city a beefsteak for baby, and proposing that the
doctor should send a small piece for her every day! Thank you, darling,
for your proposal about the Ocean House. I trust no such change will be
needful. We are all comfortable now, the weather is delicious, and there
are so many pretty walks about here, that I am only afraid I shall be
too well off. Everything about the country is charming
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