bloom_ yet, for every one says—“I need not ask you how you do, Mrs. Bowne, you look in such fine health.” Dr. Moore[54] would not inoculate me for the Small Pox, after examining my arm, as he was sure from what I told him I had had the Kine Pox well, and he would insure me against the Small Pox. But Mr. Bowne seems to wish I should be inoculated, tho’ I care nothing about it now. Adieu. My best love to Aunt Porter and Nancy, Mary Porter and all the other friends. We are going to _Flushing_ to see our cousins before we return; you know how Mary laughed about the name. Yesterday we were at Belvidere, the most beautiful place, the finest view in the world, the greatest variety. I never shall have done. Kiss dear little Mary; I think of her every time I see a sweet little sight. Your affectionate sister ELIZA S. BOWNE. P. S. Remember and put an S in my name to distinguish; there are 2 or 3 Eliza Bownes in the family. [Illustration: LUCIA WADSWORTH ] [Illustration: ZILPAH WADSWORTH ] New York, June 30, 1803. Uncle Rufus[55] has just landed. The Hussas have ceased, the populace retired, and I hasten to give you the earliest information. Several thousand people were on the wharf when he landed, my Husband among the number. As he stept from the vessel they gave 3 cheers and escorted him up into Broadway to a Mr. Nicholas Lowe’s[56] (his friend); then three more cheers as he entered the door. He stood at the door, bowed, and they dispersed—all but a dozen particular friends, who accompanied him into the house, and Mr. Bowne with them. Was introduced by Mr. Watson,[57] and immediately after Mr. Henderson[58] said, “A niece of yours, Mr. King, was lately married in New York to Mr. Bowne.” My Uncle immediately came up to him, shook hands a second time, and said, “_Miss Southgate_, I presume.”—He staid but a few moments; the acclamations of the people had rather embarrassed him (uncle). Aunt King had not landed. This evening we are going to see them. Imagine me entering, presented by Mrs. Henderson, Miss Bull, or Mrs. Delafield,—all her intimate friends; think what a mixture of sensations! I’ll tell you all about it. I returned from Long Island this morning: delightful sail, beautiful country, and pleasant visit. Malbone has finished my picture, but is unwilling we should have it as the likeness is not striking,—he says not handsome enough—so says Mr. B. But I think ’tis in some things much flattered. It looks too serious, pensive, soft,—that’s not _my_ style at all. But perhaps ’twill look different; ’twas not quite finished when I saw it; however, he insists on taking it again as soon as he returns from the Southward, and told Mr. Bowne, if he _must_ have one he might keep this till he returned and he would try again. Uncle Rufus brings news