New York, July 23.
Abby is in the front parlor reading the papers. It is quite useless to say anything about going into the country just now. If we are away from the daily papers, or if they are delayed an hour the girls get into a perfect fever; besides, Abby, you know, has decided never to go to the country again! Because she took a sea bath at Mary’s and felt weak after it, she thinks the country doesn’t agree with her! . . . Aunt Emily is going up to Lenox the last of next week, I believe. I hope so, for Uncle E. needs change; he looks miserably, has a constant cough, and seems quite run down; though when Aunt E. says, “You don’t feel very bright to-day, do you, dear?” he is quite indignant and makes a feeble attempt to sing “the Cock and the Hen,” or to whistle “Dixie.”
