A CHILD’S LETTER.
Letter from a child eight years old. I insert this letter from a darling little child partly for love of her, but chiefly because she soon after, as I have been informed, developed, without any instruction, into a splendid musical medium.
“Newark, O., July 20, 1851.
“My Dear Fish:
“I promised to write you a letter, and I have a few words to say to you, it is not very long; and I hope you are well, and I send my love to you all. I think that I’ll never forget you. I wish that you’ll never forget me. We are all well and the baby has three teeth. Now you must come back, we all want to see you.
“I hope that Mr. Brown is better. You must remember your promise to me. I have been looking anxiously for a letter from you. I hope you will excuse me, for this is the first letter I’ve ever written before. Tell Maggie that she must not forget her promise to me.
“My dear Fish, I love you very much. I want to say something to you but I don’t know what. The fields are green, the woods are grand, and home is dear to me, but I would give a year for one sweet month to talk with the Spirits. O I would clap my hands for joy. Mr. Blackman has acted the part of a coward. He has not the independence of a man to come out and publish the truth like a gentleman. I would have sent you one of his papers if they had pleased me.
“Good-bye, my dear Fish.
“Louise Mooney.”