.MTM3MA.MTE2NDgw

I about to take. The Medical Man of the puritanical, temperence, & not very hospitable Village I was in, had gone to a 'Camp Meeting' (all a Camp Meeting disgrace to Society) and it was not certain when he would return. My fever having abated towards evening I found my hostess by my side in tears & looking somewhat frantic with a letter in her hand.

 I am grieved 'said she' that I cannot treat you better - we are poor indeed - My boys & girls are sick with fever, they cannot go for corn & other things our good neighbors on the other side of the River wonts give us, but I have killed my last chicken for you. The people here are selfish & have no feeling for the unfortunate - Witches? wife - unhappy Mother! when well my husband he liberated from the ? captivity in Mexico - Yes they took him like a gally slave from San Antonio - & here he tells me in this letter that it is uncertain when they may have the casth? of Perots?,