[Boston—Tuesday, 10 March 1868]
Tuesday March 10th The funniest of letters from dear C.D. undergoing miseries at Syracuse N.Y. My letter there could never have reached its destination for he found a dreary hotel in which he passed a dreary lonely Sunday with a dismal thaw going on outside. This weather, beautiful as it is when it first comes, is surely most depressing to the spirits if there is much to do requiring what Mrs Chick calls “an effort”.
