What shall I do?
On my arrival home, the first noisy greetings of my little brothers and sisters had scarcely subsided, before they began to inquire, Why did'nt your other father come, too?
They complained that you had not written a single Tale of oppression for the Standard since you were here.
But a week after, my little sister came running with an open newspaper in her hand, exclaiming, Father Hopper has made another story!
She has named her doll for your little granddaughter, Lucy Gibbons, because you used to talk about her; and every day she reads the book you gave her.
Friend Hopper found great satisfaction in the perusal of the above letter, not only on account of his great regard for the writer, but because many of the Friends in Bucks County were the delight of his heart.
He was always telling me that if I wanted to see the best farms, the best Quakers, and the most comfortable homes in the world, I must go to Bucks County.
In his descriptions, it was a blooming