I want to offer my best thanks to you & your family for the good times I had while I was under your hospitable flag; & I also want to apologisze for being so stupid, so lifeless, from the close of luncheon onward. It was just one of those things which couldn’t be helped: I had lost the bulk of my sleep the night before—an accident which I was not used to; I had gorged like an anaconda, at luncheon—& the accident of a good appetite was another novelty: the criminal result was, that I was ostensibly dead, only, whereas I ought to have been so in reality, & served me right. There, now, I have explained—& so let us let bygones be bygones. You won’t need to utter any charitable palliations—although I reckon I could require them of you if I met you on the highway after dark—consider yourself let off. However, this is only on condition that you or one of the young ladies shall furnish me Mrs. Walker’s address (if you have it.) It is Mrs.-Total-Depravity-of-Inanimate-Things-Walker, isn’t it? I think it is. I am pretty sure of it. I talked with her at Prof. Lyman’s, after sermon; & I want her to either write the article she spoke of, or deliver her reminiscent Bishop into my hands & let me write it.

I wish to say to Miss Marian that I got the flowers home all right, & kept them in the ice-box over night; & consequently they were fresh & vigorous in the morning, & held their heads up & evoked such another clamor of admiration from the lady-folk of this household as would have embarrassed me to death if I had been in their places.

With kindest remembrances to you all & of you all, I am