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near when one is brought to think of the higher things. I trust the sun finds you well each day.

Sunday. 

Took dinner with Mr. Pritchard had a splendid time, met his sisters and two neices. His home is simple in decoration, and for a wealthy retired man he lives modestly. His neices are rather amusing to look at, one looks just like Harry Warren, the other is a slight young lady, an art student, and much more lady-like in manner than the young ladies I met in Broadway.

Mr. Pritchard is as simple and modest as his home; he has a dog that every morning carries his masters boots up stairs, and at the table, on his masters saying, "carpet" he runs over to the newspaper rack, drags one paper to the table unfolds it, on the floor, and then is given a bowl of milk, when through he carries the paper back to the corner. Ask Bill if he could do that.

My boarding house is rather interesting. This evening we had more Indian, or Hindoostanian, music. I am promised a book of Hindoo music the collection

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