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Mound Hill, Jan. 15th, 1871. My dear brother John: How shall I begin to express my thanks for those dear little tokens
of remembrance you sent us from a faroff land. We each prize them highly, but none of us more than Grandma Galloway. She tells
us to tell you that she is very grateful to think that you thought of her when you were so far away. She keeps her little
flower tied up in her Mother's Bible with its history, as she calls the description you sent along with it, and thinks of
it as one of her treasures. The little buds and flowers seem to tell us of rocks and mountains and of a warm enthusiastic
heart very nearly allied to us wandering among and admiring their beauties. It seems to me your life must be passing very
pleasantly, for sure you seem to have arrived at that Lodge in the vast wilderness that Cowper speaks of. There are wars and
rumors of war outside, but I am not sure whether much more than the sound will reach you. I have a great mind to send you
a copy of the Tribune to wake you up. The past summer and fall has been an extremely busy one to me, the building of the
new house and so much tearing down and changing around the old part has made more work than I can tell you of, what with papering
and painting and getting things put in order again, I have had all I could do, I assure you. But my health is pretty good.
I have had one of Mr. Wilson's daughters helping me for about fourteen months, but am trying it alone again. Annie can help
me a good deal now. Just think of it, John, she is as old as I was when I left Scotland. When I think of it it seems as though
it could hardly be real, and these thoughts lead us back twenty-two years, and then our shanty experience comes rushing back
and so on, and so on. Many of those events in our history seem like a dream or a tale that has been told. George and Celia
take me back further yet, to where you and I as children kept the house in perfect commotion, so much so that they tell me
if there was any extra noise going on they would say, 0, that's John and Sarah fechtin. I believe C. and G. romp and play
with as much noise and zest as we ever did; when George is at home from school they are almost inseparable. To be with him
Celia is perfectly willing to help him tend to the cattle and clean the stables.I suppose you are pretty well informed as
to how we are all getting along. David M uir , Annie or Joanna, I suppose, write you every once in a while. Father and Mother
were both well when I saw them on Christmas. It is altogether too late to wish you a happy new year, nevertheless I send the
wish with a fervent prayer that the coming year may be one fraught with many of the best blessings to you. I must close, as
the children wish to send a few lines. Let me hear from you soon. As ever yours, Sarah Galloway Following letter on
same sheet of paper My dear Uncle John: If you will tell me what you were doing on Christmas morning I will tell you what
I was doing. The first thing I did was to examine the contents of my stocking. I first took out a card with a picture of a
cow and her calf, next I took out a pair of mittens, next came a lead pencil and penholder, and lastly a candy man. Was your
stocking as well filled as that. I am getting along nicely at school. I study U. S. history, geography, arithmetic and spelling.
But I like reading and geography the best. George. Galloway 604