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Stoughton Mass.
7 Mar 48.

Dear Doris:

I have just finished emptying all the winter's ashes, -3 barrels of them down cellar and not a place to put any more there. I missed your strong young arms, but have gotten them out at last. Mrs B. is spread out on the sofa in the kitchen and Grandma is snoring away in the front room, all sleeping off their dinners. I have got to go over and see Maude and I want to have a look at the Old Place and the little apple trees and the barn where the pineapple bedstead is stored. 


so very modern, somehow. 

Well, I must bestir myself...3 o'clock and Maude, etc still on the program. I have had such a satisfactory 2 weeks up here, working at the Museum, getting daily glimpses of you, and feeling, somehow, that things are getting better for you. You must love yourself..you are a bit too young to remember Cové, whose apostles repeated, "Every minute, it is getting better and better." I prefer the staunch old first chap. of Joshua. Its refrain, "[[strikethrough]] You [[/strikethrough]] Go in and possess the lands your fathers have brought you too [[to]], Be strong and of good courage!" was always a help.

Love,
Mother.