What steamer shall you take? I like the North German Lloyd best,—don’t you? I can be ready at a moment’s notice. I await your answer in an _agony_ of suspense. Yours devotedly, M. JEANETTE MASON. LETTER NO. III. E. GAINSBOROUGH, VT. MISS BREWSTER: DEAR MISS,—No doubt you will be very much surprised to get a letter from me for you don’t know me at all and I don’t know you at all and I persume you are not used to getting letters from strangers. But you are a rich kind lady and as a last resorse I turn to you for my heart is bleeding and my friends can’t do no more for me. I am an inventor as you will be surprised to learn. Ever since I was able to hold a jack knife and whittle I have been whittling out things and making inventions. Some folks say I am a genius and if I had my rights I should be rolling in welth and be able to keep a horse and carriage. My inventions have been about all sorts of things. I almost got a patent for a clothes-wringer but a mean sneak of a fellow stole it from me taking the bread from my children’s mouths. My wife took in sewing and washing and the children milked the cow and kept the garden running and sometimes I got odd jobs. But a month ago Susie and Jimmie took sick with scarlet fever and wife she was up with them night and day and she took sick too and first Jimmie died and then Susie, and mother the next day. I did the best I could and the neighbors was kind and came in spite of its being so catching. But now there all gone and nobody but the baby and me is left. He had it light and wan’t down but a day or two. I feel most crazy when I think of it all and wonder what I’m going to do. The neighbors cooked up some vittles for a few days but there poor too and I can’t count on them for doing much. I’ve got to do something right off and I an’t a cent of money more than enough to pay the postage of this letter. Last night when Mis deacon Allen went by with the newspaper she had got to the P. O. she stopped and read me all about your getting rich so sudden and she said to me brother Silas if I was you I’d just write to that Miss Brewster and if she’s a woman with a heart in her she’ll feel for that poor motherless little feller there a toddlin about, and you with your hands tied sos you cant leave him a minute. I’d take him myself said she if my hands wasnt tied too. Which is true enough for shes five of her own and one adopted.