One or two words missing in the copy are inserted from the rough
draft, which, as usual, varies in minor points from the letter
as sent.
--------

The letter came also. Every child of mine knows from far that
handwriting, and brings it home with speed. I read without alarm
the pathetical hints of your sad plight in the German labyrinth.
I know too well what invitations and assurance brought you in
there, to fear any lack of guides to bring you out. More
presence of mind and easy change from the microscopic to the
telescopic view does not exist. I await peacefully your issue
from your pretended afflictions.

What to tell you of my coop and byre? Ah! you are a very poor
fellow, and must be left with your glory. You hug yourself on
missing the illusion of children, and must be pitied as having
one glittering toy the less. I am a victim all my days to
certain graces of form and behavior, and can never come into
equilibrium. Now I am fooled by my own young people, and grow
old contented. The heedless children suddenly take the keenest
hold on life, and foolish papas cling to the world on their
account, as never on their own. Out of sympathy, we _make
believe_ to value the prizes of their ambition and hope. My, two
girls, pupils once or now of Agassiz, are good, healthy,
apprehensive, decided young people, who love life. My boy
divides his time between Cicero and cricket, knows his boat, the
birds, and Walter Scott--verse and prose, through and through,--
and will go to College next year. Sam Ward and I tickled each
other the other day, in looking over a very good company of young