Hoping you are well and your finger is getting all right, I am, with
much love, as ever,
PAPA.
My Dear Margaret: Here it is summertime, and the bees are blooming and
the flowers are singing and the birds making honey, and we haven't been
fishing yet. Well, there's only one more month till July, and then we'll
go, and no mistake. I thought you would write and tell me about the high
water around Pittsburg some time ago, and whether it came up to where
you live, or not. And I haven't heard a thing about Easter, and about
the rabbit's eggs--but I suppose you have learned by this time that eggs
grow on egg plants and are not laid by rabbits.
I would like very much to hear from you oftener, it has been more than a
month now since you wrote. Write soon and tell me how you are, and when
school will be out, for we want plenty of holidays in July so we can
have a good time. I am going to send you something nice the last of this
week. What do you guess it will be?
Lovingly,
PAPA.
The Caledonia
WEDNESDAY.
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