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Nov. 9, 1872.
My dear Papa,
Jenny and I are both seated In my bedroom, pens in hand, to write
letters. She is writing to Kitty and I to you. I have been sleeping this
lovely Sunday aftenoon away, after having walked an hour and a half
to drive away a slight headache which was trying to master me. Occa-
sionally we have such a bright warm day
Do not, please, ask for a glimpse of any of my essays. They are
entirely too dreadful for you to see. I fear after a sight of them your eyes would be paralyzed or afflicted with some dread disease. Perhaps next summer, If you still desire it, I will read them to you. But I think I shall not be able to copy them.
The parlors, I presume, look very nicely, but I do not admire your
taste in putting my paintings in them. They would do better in a dark corner.
Do you feel very much downcast about the elections? The two Misses Clark, my parlormates, have a brother who is an editor of the Springfield Republican.
The bell for tea will ring in a few minutes, so I will close with
much love. Jenny sends love.
Your aft. daughter
Julie.