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Monday afternoon November 5th 1866
My darling Abbie
What a pink of perfection you are to write to me so punctually. Oh Abbie Mr Ansonge is dead just think of it, he played on the organ Sunday morning and died Sunday evening, he had the cholera. Mrs. Ansonge is feeling terribly. Mr Johnson saw her the day after and said that he did not know her. You know that her mother just died a little.
You wicked little sinner to think that you read my letters to the girls what could have induced you to do so. You ought to whipped
to do, so of course we are always
What kind of a person is Miss Porter? [...] describe her to me - I have not know seen Virginia Butler yet but I will try and find her though trying to find anyone here is like looking for a needle in a haystack.
I am making mother a pincushion and am going to make her a breakfast shawl. I have made Effie a hood, but I am in a pickle about what I shall give Walter. Do tell me what I shall give him. Did you know that Fanny Skinner has been at Lake Forest. indeed all the family have, they were afraid of cholera. Mother says that the hotel was full. Rosa Wright must be lovely if she looks any thing like I do. I pity her.
with a girl named Maggie Davies. She is just old peacher. She has black hair and eyes- She is just full of the "Old Nick" or of the "Old Harry" I suppose would be a more elegant expression or but I must say that neither of them are too elegant. She sends her love to you. Theres the horrid bell. Good Bye my darling.
(To Abbie Farwell. '72, from Nora Neef, 1866-68)