[174] but if I did have one, I should leave it at home, for I should n't have any use for it here. I did n't feel very homesick that time I went down to New York; but I did n't like to stay here, while you were in the city. If they had whipped me then, I am almost certain I should have run away again, I should have been so mad. As it was, I came near going the second time I was sent out of the study-room. One of the boys ran away from here during vacation, and they thought his father had taken him home, and his father thought he was up here; but he went aboard a sloop on the Hudson River, and worked there for a month. When he went home, his father asked him why he had n't written to him, for he thought he was at the college all the time, and nobody knows anything about it but a few of the boys. After I came up from New York with father, this boy asked me to run away with him again, and do the same as he did before; and then I would have done it if it was n't getting cold, but I would n't do it now. I felt sort of angry then, because I had to come back; and if I got punished when I did n't do anything, I should feel just like going off, and I don't know but I would, if I got a good chance. Will you please to send me some envelopes? Your loving son.
September 9, 1850.dear mother,—I do wish you would come and see me right off, and not wait so long, as I feel very homesick. I thought at first I would n't say anything about it, but I can't help it, I feel so. I've only been back here two or three days, and it seems as long as all the time I was at home. Whenever I think about home, it makes me feel like crying, and sometimes I can't help crying before all the boys. Do come and see me, mother, or ask father to. I feel just the same as I did when I first came, and worse, if anything. I would n't care half so much, if I thought I should n't come back here again. Any how, I hope you will come and see me, and as soon as you can. I can hardly help crying now when I am writing this note. I've got a sore throat to-day. I hope you will come. I feel just the same as I did when I started. Your loving son, P. S.—Myold teacher scolded me to-day because I did n't do something he did n't tell me to, and I hate him like everything. He is the worst old fellow I ever saw. They have n't given us any lessons yet, except two or three lines in Latin last Tuesday. I don't believe I shall learn half as much this year as I did last. A good
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