I have been long wanting to write to you, so many of your subscribers have been writing to you. I could not write to you sooner, because I did not know my letter would go by the mail. Many of the stories in the Museum are quite interesting. I have often tried to read your history of your own life, through. I should have begun when your Museum first came out, but it happened that I did not. “Philip Brusque” I began too, but, as my brother was going up the river in a steamboat, he wanted to take the number, so that I had to leave off reading it. In your number before the last I liked the “Two Friends.” Many of the children like “The Siberian Sable-hunter,” but I do not fancy it much, as there are so many hard names in it. I am one of your little black-eyed subscribers: my brother Benjamin is one of your blue-eyed subscribers. He does not read as many of your Museums as I do, for he is away from home a great part of the time, and when he gets home he hardly ever thinks of reading them. I am always glad when I hear that your Museum is come, and yet, the last time, they kept it from me for a day and a night. Was not that very hard? My little sister, Lydia, is yet too young to read, and does not even know her A, B, C; but I know them well enough. I like your plain, simple stories best. I believe my brother likes the ones that are not simple. In your number, a great while ago, is a song by the name of “Jack Frost,” which I like very much, and many other pieces of your poetry. “Discontented Betty” I like too. I have been hurrying off with my lessons, so that I could write to you; but, pray, do not think that I write this myself, for I do not even know how to make a letter. My sister writes for me. I am in constant fear that we shall have to give up your Museum, but I hope we shall not. I thought that I would have to send my letter by the man that brought the Museum, but my father told me that I need not, but that I should send it by the mail. I hope your Museum will not end very soon, but will keep on a long while. I have found out three of your names, Parley, Merry and Goodrich. I want to see you very much. My sister Mary is collecting autographs, and has got one of yours, which I think to be quite a decent hand for such an old man. I hope this letter will reach you safely. I wonder if the one my brother William wrote to you, a long time ago, ever reached you. I have read some of your other books, as we have got some others. I consider myself a very poor reader, if others do not. I had a beautiful book given to me on New Year’s day, by the name of “Flower People.” But I cannot think of anything more to say, and so, Mr. Merry, good-bye. E. O. B.