I set about Evelyn, and finished the first volume in the course of a natural day. To-day I attack the second—Parts are very interesting.—
I left a blank at top of my letter, not being determined which to address it to, so Farmer and Farmer's wife will please to divide our thanks. May your granaries be full, and your rats empty, and your chickens plump, and your envious neighbors lean, and your labourers busy, and you as idle and as happy as the day is long!
VIVE L'AGRICULTURE!
Frank Field's marriage of course you have seen in the papers, and that his brother Barron is expected home.
How do you make your pigs so little?
They are vastly engaging at that age.
I was so myself.
Now I am a disagreeable old hog—
A middle-aged-gentleman-and-a-half.
My faculties, thank God, are not much impaired. I have my sight, hearing, taste, pretty perfect; and can read the Lord's Prayer in the common type, by the help of a candle, without making many mistakes.
Believe me, while my faculties last, a proper appreciator of your many kindnesses in this way; and that the last lingering relish of past flavors upon my dying memory will be the smack of that little Ear. It was the left ear, which is lucky. Many happy returns (not of the Pig) but of the New Year to both.—
Mary for her share of the Pig and the memoirs desires to send the same—
D'r. M'r. C. and M'rs. C.—
Yours truly