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Dear son,

I received yours of the 9th—and was right glad to hear from you, and to get such an affectionate letter. We have had gay times here this week, with what they call the "Carnival"—it continued two days & nights. The nights were the best. Every thing was lit up, and it was like a scene of enchantment. The crowds of spectators were countless. Hundreds and even thousands mixed in, the second afternoon & night in fancy dresses, or wore masks—& went around having fun. Lots of women were out, some of them as full of sport as the men—The principal street here is very wide, I should think three times as wide as Broadway. This was the scene of operations. All the vehicles were turned off, then at certain hours let on again for a while, for driving & races—there were some splendid horses—Less drinking than you would have supposed—No musses, & no accidents. I send you a paper. Last night however was a murder, a man I knew well by sight, a gambler called "Sonny James" was killed.

With me all goes about the same. I work about 6 hours every day, mostly writing—am well & hearty, travel around out doors quite a good deal—& keep up a cheerful heart. Johnny, you say you should like to see me—Well, no more than I should to see you, my darling boy. I wish we were together this minute, & you had employment so we could remain with each other, if you would feel satisfied to be so.

Have you got work of any kind there in Brooklyn? Write to me, Jack, & let me know all particulars. Love to you, dear son, & good bye for this time.