fowl was the best I ever tasted; and not one of the
eggs was smashed—master said they looked as though
they had been laid by country hens, but, of course,
that was only his joke. Thank you again and again,
and please thank Mr. Renford, for I know he must
have had something to do with sending us such a
handsome present."
"On Saturday evening master and I walked to the
cemetery, and master clipped the grass which is
growing nicely on your dear mother's grave. Oh, you