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being here, Mr Summer, principal of a colored school under some other benevolent society, a man who enjoys a joke as well as anyone I every saw, Mr W. made a remark about his family (Including us all) in a way that led Mr. S. to exclaim "Why, you talk like a father." "Well, I feel like a father," was the response. "I have grown up daughters who are a care to me, and do you know," he went on in his peculiar gentle, deliberate way," Mrs. Everett calls her father dad. I took up a letter she had written and saw "My angel dad! There was a roar of laughter and unclear here and there, her and the father explained "to be sure she says that is the Welsh for father and that is the way she tries to get out of it." As soon as I could get a chance, I gave the company the Welsh pronunciation of the word, which makes it sound so much more respectful to one and the meaning of the word he called angel and Mrs. W. told me she thought I had been doing a very commendable thing in which i had hearty approval so now I can go on writing. My anwyl dad in defiance of Mr. W's jest. Today I received announcement of the shipping from N.Y. of the box of books Mr. M. sent for Remsen they will soon be here and I will write my thanks. If you hear from Robbie C: How are Lewis and June and the children, little Eddie, father mother Jennie Sarah Eliza and Thomas love to each and all and a kiss for yourself from sister Cynthia Box 175.