Mother wants me to write, but I have written so lately, than there seems to be little else to write but the news, and that Mother has written. The little damosel up stairs is fat & plump, but I can by no means call her fair - she is extremely modest and blushes scarlet red all the time. I have written to Anna, Nettie &c. We hope to hear from you soon. I had a dear letter from Nettie a day or two since. Poor little Percie does not seem so well today, but his teeth must come through soon. Tis sabbath, warm, sultry, P.P. feels miserably, as does Mother, as do I. Dr. Clarke from Hartford preaches this afternoon. The baby is a day & a half old & Mallie says she could come down stairs as well as I could! She is very well. We are a little 'fraid we said too much in our last latter about Charles'