I have not taken many walks about here, for the weather, though delightful for July, is too hot for walking, and riding seems out of the question, it being harder to get a horse here even than it was at Henderson. Dr. Dickson has one old fellow, but he is used in the fields a good deal, and one person cannot ride alone. Borrowing or hiring seems equally impossible, so I shall be the poorest rider in the family apparently, for I suppose Henry's 'nice little pony,' and our three (?) other horses, will be kept in constant use.
I find it equally impossible to get a partner in chess; Dr. Dickson understands no such games, and disapproves of them, so I cannot train any of the girls, and Miss C. does not care to play. I set up the men one afternoon and tried to beat myself; but it would not do, I could get up no enthusiasm, so I put the pieces away in despair, and used the board as a writing-desk.
Tell me all the home news: what M. does and Ellen and Kate, what nonsense H. talks and S.'s puns, the visits they receive and the excursions they make.
If you hear of any new books let me know, for I imagine they do not find their way up here very quickly. I have Littel's 'Living Age' regularly, and I am reading Alison's 'History of Europe;' but such a thing as a novel Dr. Dickson reprobates, and all he calls light reading.
Now, Howy, do you not think I am very good to send you such a long letter for your little scrap? Write me a full sheet soon.
Asheville: July 27, 1845.
Dear Mother,—I received your welcome letter last night while engaged in your favourite Saturday evening's employment—singing hymns. A stranger minister who was to preach next day had just arrived, and I, seated at
