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South Headley, Nov. 20 '49 Dear Henry: Imagine if you can, that you see me in my little room, seated by my table sighing for a letter. Three long weeks have passed since I have heard one word from any of my brothers or sisters. This is the fourth letter I have written since news from home has blessed my lonely heart. I write regularly every tuesday evening and I should not wonder if you could guess almost every time when to expect a letter from me. When we formed our society for letter writing I thought it was so arranged that we should each one get one letter every week, if it is not so, tell me in your next, so that I shall not again expect to hear when no letter is due to me. I never felt as though I had so few friends as I now feel that I have. I feel all the time as though I were in the midst of strangers. There are so many here that it is impossible to get acquainted. Every meal the tables are set for 210 persons. It seems like quite a village all in one family. Next week is thanksgiving and many of the young ladies are going home, we shall have a vacation of four days for the accomodation of such. I cannot spend it with you but if you write me some letters, I will place the likenesses that I brought with me around me and (although so many faces will be wanting) try to imagine myself really surrounded by those I love. I expect we shall have quite a pleasant day at the seminary. I have written no where but home since I have been here I hope next week to find time to write to others. Tell Mary Thomas that then she shall hear from me.