Thank you my Dear George for your Letter and the Farce which arrived safely the day before yesterday and which I should have answered yesterday had I not been again confined to my chamber by a return of my Fever and many of the inflamatory symtoms which attended my illness in Boston—I was taken ill the day after I wrote to Hariet and went out too soon which occasioned a return of the Fever...
According to my promise I write to you again altho’ I do not feel quite sure that you will have time to read my Letters or that they will be more acceptable than the nonsensical scraps of poetry which I used to plague you with last Summer generally by the advice of Charles—but as that mania appears to be over I shall only write you short occasional Letters to let you know how we go on altho’...
What! a letter from George I cried when your father put your last epistle in my hand yesterday afternoon? I was surprized for I thought that you ceased to wish to keep up any thing like friendly intercourse with your family and to feel that I was not altogether forgotten in the solitude of my chamber did occasion my heart to spring with joy. I am delighted to observe by the tone of your Letter...