Litchfield enquirer., 1873-10-23
Ed,card Delaney to John Femmi,a9.

Ed,card Delaney to John Fgernn,in9.
 August 12,-.
 The sick pasha shall be amused. Bis niltah! he wills it so If the story tel Ter becomes prolix and tedious,-the bow w-string and the sack, and two Nu bians to drop him into the Piscataqua! But, truly Jack, I have a hard task. There is literally nothing here, except the little girl over the way. She is swing ing in the hammock at this moment. It is to me compensation for many Of the Ills of life to see her now and then put out a small kid boot, which fits like glove, and set herself going. Who is she, and what is her name? Her name is Daw. Only daughter of MT. Richard W. Daw, ex-colonel and banker. Mother dead. One brother at Harvard, elder brother kill ed at the battle of Fair Oaks nine years ago. Old, rich family, the Daws. This is the homestead, where father and daugh- ter pass eight months of the twelve; the rest of the year in Baltimore and Wash ington. The New England winter too many for the old gentleman. The daugh- ter is called Marjorie, e,-Marjorie Daw. Sounds odd at first, does n't it? But af- ter you say it over to yourself half dog en times, you like it. There's pleasing acquaintance to it, something prim and violet-like. Must be nice sort of girl to be called Marjorie Daw.
 I had mine host of The Pines in the witness-box last night, and drew the fore going testimony from him. He has charge of MT. Daw's vegetable-garden, and has known the family these thirty years. It will be next to impossible for me not to meet Mir. Daw or Miss Daw in some of my walks. The young lady has favorite path to the sea-beach. shall intercept her some morning, and touch my hat to her. Then the princess will bend her fair head to me with courteous surprise not unmixed with haughtiness. Will snub me, in fact. All this for thy sake, O Pasha of the Snapt Axle-tree! How oddly things fall out! Ten minutes ago was called down to the par lor,-you know the kind of parlors in farm-houses on the coast, sort of am- phibious parlor, with sea-shells on the mantel-piece an spruce branches in the chimney-place, I found my father and Mir. Daw doing the antique polite to each other He had come to pay his respects to. his new neighbors. MT. Daw is a tall, slim gentleman of about tifty-five, with forid face and snow white mustache and side-whiskers. Looks like MT. Dombey, or as MT. Dombey would have looked if he had served few years in the British Army. MT. Daw was colonel in the late war, commanding the regiment in which his son was lieu. tenant. Plucky old boy, backbone oi New Hampshire granite. Before taking hIs leave, the colonel delivered himself of an invitation as if he were issuing g general order. Miss Daw has few friends coming, at P. Me, to play croquet on the lawn parade-ground) and have tea (cold rations) on the piazza. Will we honor them with our company? Cor be sent to the guard-house.) My father declines on the plea of ill-health. My fathers son bows with as much suavity as he knows, and accepts.
 In my next shall have something tt tell you. I shall have seen the little beauty face to face. have present. ment, Jack. that this Daw is fara Gvis. Keep up your spirits, my boy, until write you another letter,-and send m' along word how's your leg.