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�These apples which I send to you, Though not as fine as some, You'll think [underlined] as good as ever grew, Because they come from home [underlined]. With my own fingers, one by one, I pick'd the best I had; And when you've eating them, my son, You won't forget your dad [underlined]. Keep them on hand a week, or so, Until they shall be mellow; If not, they're sour enough, you know, To make the cattle [underlined] bellow [underlined]. If Denison like apple pie Most flavorous & rare, Present to him respectfully, As many's you can spare. Let John share equally the rest;- Divide with him, or mix; Give some to George, if you think best, And some to our friend [underlined] Weeks [underlined]. And when they're gone, & if they [?] I'll send another lot; I have abundance of such fruit, And can as well as not. Your mother's looking every day, With patient hankering, For that small chest of Hyson tea,- The same she had last spring. Good morning --------L.L.