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Saturday night Dear Johnny I did not know I should write so much when I began, hope you won't get tired receiving my doleful thought, but I cannot write any thing else just now. This evening Pa told me he had asked Mr. Watson to be his executor, spoke about the division of the lots we live on &c&c. I availed myself of a pause to escape and weep. O I cannot control myself yet. When I married I loved my husband with the most passionate devotion, he was indeed my head. I had the utmost confidence in his wisdom and judgement, in fire? I gave him my whole being and now when I see him declining day by day and hear him sadly talk of his approaching death. O it crushes me how can I but grieve. I intended to tell you a little about my own health, but that subject is gloomy too. I have almost a constant headache and both my eyes trouble me much, both are blinded after stooping, and the left eye is often half shaded. When I tell Pa, he says nothing, so I conclude that there is nothing to be done or that it is of no consequence. I am glad you are so comfortable, there is nothing like having a contented mind, you will have more enjoyment in the acquisition of necessaries and comfort than if you had them not. I only wish we could be near each other. Pa says the settling of his estate will be very profitable then there is Mama's and Uncle's, would all this tempt you, besides your share of Pa's, how pleasant it would be you could live in the house with us and help me take care of the rest, it is too good to think of. In a pecurialy point of view I do not believe you would lose anything. Pa says his estate is large, in the point of comfort and happiness could we not be