Dear Aunt Selma:—
I do earnestly hope you and Uncle Phillip have not thought me neglectful in not writing to you before this, but beyond asking after you both and hoping you are quite well, I felt I had nothing to write about. I lead, as you know, such a quiet life, and the days so resemble each other, that I can hardly distinguish them apart. I ought perhaps to be glad of this, as family news when it has to be told is seldom a matter of rejoicing; quite the contrary, it generally forebodes trouble and sorrow—at least I have found it so.
The east winds have been very trying to my mother lately, but I am happy to say she is fairly well and able to go out every day. She sends her love to you, and hopes to have the pleasure of seeing you and my dear uncle before long.
How is your work society getting on? I suppose your Sunday-school picnic will take place next month, as usual. I can imagine how busy Uncle Phillip must be just now in his garden. Are the bees thriving? and how do the new glass hives answer? Has he been making any fresh experiments?
Please give him my best love, and with much to yourself,
Believe me, dear aunt,
Your affectionate niece,
Sophia Moore.
141. To a Cousin, Wishing a Merry Christmas.
F——, December 21, 19—.
Dear Cousin Jane:—