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  Saturday Dear Pete, Dear, dear son,

We are having a very cold spell here, the severest of the winter—freezes up the pipes through the house, & burst them yesterday, causing great trouble—I too have got a bad cold, my head all stopped—

—I came through all right last Saturday, on time—quite a pleasant trip—Mother is very well, full as well as usual—I am having quiet good  times home here, with Mother—stay in the house more than usual, on account of the bitter cold, (but go out two or three hours during the day)—

I will only write this very short letter to you this time, but send you my love, my darling son—I think about you every day dear son—will write more, soon—here is a kiss for you dear loving son.

Walt  

Pete, I am making out a poor scraggy letter to you this time—I feel pretty well, but don't seem to feel like writing—Good bye for to-day, my loving boy—

Your true Father & Comrade always