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Nov. 28th. 1867.
My Dear Harry:
This Thanksgiving reminds me of the one last year when you and I went to Sugar Hill and ate dinner with Grandma Brooks. It rained that day before we got there I remember and so it does now so hard that I do not care to venture out for a walk. I think we are in no danger of starving to death today. I have just been up to No. 79 - my old room and have eaten all I thought I had better for once. Miss DeWitt got a box last night containing about three quarts of grapes, a box of figs, large Havana oranges, a lot of splendid apples, elegant French candies, two kinds of nice cake, almonds and peanuts. Then I am
We had a splendid lecture last night by Wendell Phillips. You would have enjoyed it very much for he told the funniest stories. The subject was Street Life in Europe and he illustrated foreigners by the most amusing stories you ever heard. I should like to tell you a few of them and hear you laugh at them. I expected to be disappointed in him for I had gotten my ideas raised up to quite a high pitch, but he was every thing I had expected him to be.
He had no notes at all and just stood at one side of the desk so that every one could see him.
Did you have a good time with Nell when she was at Lisbon last week? I suppose of course you danced with her at the Promenade Concert.
Harry, I wish you would write to me before long. I don't see why you do not. You have not written me a single letter since I have been at Vassar, and only a very short one while I was in Brooklyn. I shall not feel like returning good for evil much longer. Give much love to all the family and to Em also. I shall begin a letter to her today if I can.
Your affectionate sister
Mary.
[Mary (Parker) Woodworth, '70]