She does not hate me as bad as
Aunt M. does. Tell Mark he can have my paint
box, but I should like him to keep the red cake in case I come
home again. I hope Hannah and John do mot get tired doing my
work.
Your afectionate friend
REBECCA.
P. S. Please give the piece of poetry to John because he likes my
poetry even when it is not very good. This piece is not very good
but it is true but I hope you won't mind what is in it as you ran
away.
This house is dark and dull and dreer
No light doth shine from far or near
Its like the tomb.
And those of us who live herein
Are almost as dead as serrafim
Though not as good.
My guardian angel is asleep
At leest he doth not virgil keep
Ah! Woe is me!
Then give me back my lonely farm
Where none alive did wish me harm
Dear home of youth!
P.S. again. I made the poetry like a piece in a book but could
not get it right at first. You see "tomb" and "good" do not sound
well together but I wanted to say "tomb" dreadfully and as
serrafim are always good I could n't take that out. I have made
it over now. It does not say my thoughts as well but think it is
more right. Give the best one to John as he keeps them in a box
with his bird's eggs. This is the best one.
SUNDAY THOUGHTS
BY
REBECCA ROWENA RANDALL
This house is dark and dull and drear
No light doth shine from far or near
Nor ever could.
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