In a nice little barn, Where the "moo-moos" are; Freddie says "Good night," But the lammie he says "Baa!" To be sung by Marmar with appropriate accompaniment of gesture, etc. On the outside of the letter appears: A little song for Freddie, On his third birthday, With "lots" of loving kisses, From his Wee-wee far away. On his sixth birthday Grandpa contributes: Concord, Freddie's 6th Birthday, 1869. Dear Freddy, I give you for your Birth Day Present this new Picture Book. It has plain words for you to pick out and read. The stories are short and about things that you know. Now, my little scholar, look among the leaves every day, and see how many words you can tell,--Very soon you will find you can read whole pages, spell the whole book through, and write the stories, word for word on your slate or in your little writing book. Then you will not be a little Dunce, and when Grandpa comes to see you, you will be glad to show him how well you can read. Grandma gives the top to Johnny. From Grandpa. Grandma, not to be outdone, sent this: Dear Freddy, If worms give us the silk thread--can't we find time enough to find out how the Fabric is made which dresses are formed of--minutes and days--ours. Days and Years are passing away--let us be busy--and I guess we will get to the Vienna Exposition-- "How doth the little busy Bee" Improve each shining hour--Be a Bee--and your hours will be too few for the Flowers of Science and the Wheels of Use. Grandma will help you with her one dim eye and Grandpa will explain a great deal to you with his Shining Light--Mama with your help will make you a true, good man.-- 1873. On his twelfth birthday Aunt Louisa again lapsed into poetry: F. A. P. Who likes to read a fairy tale, Or stories told of sword and sail, Until his little optics fail? Our boy. Who loves his father's watch to wear And often draw it out with care Upon its round white face to stare? Our boy. Who rather proud of his small feet When wearing slippers new and neat, And stockings red as any beet? Our boy. Who in his pocket keeps his hands As round the house he "mooning" stands Or reads the paper like the mans? Our boy. Who likes to "boss" it over Jack, And sometimes gives a naughty whack, But gets it heartily paid back? Our boy.