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in it with the light on their rusty golden-green heads. (For they still hold all their leaves) and the honeysuckle that grows so profusely here, & the briers & brush looked as if sheep had been amon [[among]] them.

My aunt says she frequently things of you and wonders if it is as hard for you to get around with your hip as as it is for her with her sprain. 

I shall have to cut this short.

Will you kiss me good-night? 

G.M.J