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they were never accorded their proper mead of praise. I read the letter myself, with an unusual interest. Your description is so graphic, and vivid that one can almost see the things that you describe. My father had an old daguerreotype take[n] in the war, and I have had it enlarged, showing his grey uniform, and the C S on his buttons. He looks so boyish, and so like one of my boys, that I never look at it but what I think it was a shame to send boys like that to the front. And yet I would not give his war record for the wealth of a Rockefeller. Of course, you dear old thing, I shall send you the sugar, if there is a pound in the county, and I am sure there is. I am not quite so sure about the tulips and crocuses, for I may not get time to reset mine, and I cannot trust the boys. Hyacinths ought to be reset every year, but tulips and crocuses will do well for years without resetting, if the ground is kept in proper shape. I have to go to Monterey to court next week, and the week after will likely have to go to Elkins, in Randolph County. I do so much want you to come over here, some time, and see the mountains, and the grizzled old 62nd veterans before they are all gone. They are going fast now, and my father is now the oldest man in his neighborhood. I realize with dread that some day I shall receive a call over the telephone to come home for one of my parents. I khope that it will be long deferred but I know [underlined] it cannot. I hope that you will not tire of reading this rambling letter, and that you will excuse me for using the typewriter, as I always try to write letters of friendship with pen, but my handwriting is getting so bad, that I am sure that you find difficulty in reading it.