Dear Margaret mine, -Elisabeth reminds us of you. It is not merely imagination. This summer she was a little old lady in a play. She wore a gray silk gown, kerchief, and had her hair on top of her head. Fosdick and I looked at each other in amazement with the same thought in our mind - she's like Margaret. Last week I put up her hair while she took a bath. She came in her kimona [sic] into the living room and Burton exclaimed, "Elisabeth looks like Margaret Ball!" Lad said, "Yes, she does whenever she has her hair up, for it's the same color." Then Fosdick and I decided that it was not imagination. Her hands sometimes remind me of you. I like it.
She is very well now, full of vim and always cheerful. Dr. Soutter says that she is gaining.
We came to the parsonage Saturday at five o'clock. Since then I've been hustling. It's a task to put things in order and clean.
We are going to Putnam to deliver two butchered pigs, and to put the pay into shoes, rubbers, and food for the children. A third pig we shall eat and can during the coming week.
Fosdick has at last decided that the farm is unwise. He wants to sell it, and to work in a church again. It may mean a move. Oh me! oh my! I can't endure the combination any longer, and he never can swing that farm in such a way as to improve the buildings. Poor Fosdick is depressed and heart sick: but I'm sure it is the wise step to take.
It's easier, Margaret, to chat about us than to tell you what's in my heart about you. I'm sorry that you had to have the pain and suffering that goes with an operation. I long to have you stronger and better after it. Ever since Aunt Hattie's letter came, I wished for you every minute. I wish that I could call on you. I love you with my whole heart. You mean oh! so much to me. Do take every precaution, even those that seem unnecessary, and rest for a long time, for I must have you well again.
The children all send "lots of love". Fosdick sends love and best wishes.
Always with love,
Estelle