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I can look across the Ocean to my own country.  And it makes me homesick when I get down to the rocks and the sea because it smells the same, and there are the same rocks and brownish yellow sea weed - only the rocks are not as big nor as varied, nor beautiful as at Kennebunk and Gloucester - not half.

But the peasants are all and more than my fancy painted them.  I only hope I shall be able to do something really good.  That is my best.  I never have yet in Summer.

I will [[strikethrough]] deposit the [[/strikethrough]] I mean put down the $35 in my cheque book 

It is a comfort to put something in.  But we are enconomizing at such a rate now, that we ought to make up a good deal for our past expenses - 3 heads of lettuce for a cent - and the rest in comparison - I cant remember it all.  The Conants do and they do all the managing.  They are not broad culture exactly but Miss C. is extremely clever and Mrs C. is a kind good soul, careful and troubled about many things, and rather nervous and excitable.  Just at present we all talk of nothing but our housekeeping and what we do and dont like to eat, which I sincerely hope will end soon.  They go into extacies at the mere thought of peas, and about the calves