Sunday, December 11,1864.
To-morrow I am going to “The Oaks.” I hear that Aunt Phyllis is dying and I shall go to see her and take her some sugar. … It is piping cold to-night — blowing great guns, but Rina made us up a splendid fire and we sit enjoying it and enjoying, too, writing home. . .
The people come very often for us to write letters for them and we have fun doing it. One woman for whom Fanny Murray was writing requested her to end the letter by saying, “Please excuse the writing, for my pen is very bad.”
The letters reach us very late and the papers and magazines later still, but I hope to get them, and we generally do, in time.
