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I left New-York, two days after you, that is, on Saturday, and had a pretty little passage of forty-eight hours. We were, on board, a British custom-house officer, a sensible, pleasant man, who played chess with me; two ladies, rather pretty, who did not molest us, _point exigentes', bien amiable; five little children, who neither cried nor quarrelled the whole way! yet cheerful and playful.
Six days have I passed here very pleasantly. To-morrow I go, whither is not determined. You may, however, address me at New-York, which will most probably be my destination.
All those you saw when you were last here inquire about you with great civility and interest, and say pretty things of you. Don't be vain, madam, for I take this to be a kind of flattery to me, or to be so intended. Miss C. talks much of you, and L. N., and Miss A. Can you imagine what are Miss C.'s occupations and arrangements? Never; so I'll tell you. Why, she instructs two nieces and a nephew (things of twelve or thirteen) in astronomy, natural philosophy, and principles of botany! Her boudoir has globes, several mathematical instruments, &c. All this I discovered by accident; for she denies it all most strenuously, and with some pretty, unaffected embarrassment. Be assured this is an amiable, sensible girl. I don't believe you know her value: so I pray you to study her. She left town yesterday with her mother for Lebanon. Mr. C. went on Friday to New-York,. What care you for all that?
Are you a good girl? Do you drink the waters, and bathe, and ride, and walk? I hear Mrs. W. is handsomer than during her widowhood, of which I am very glad. Mr. Russel left this on Thursday, intending to pass through Albany and Ballston on his way to Niagara. If he should come into your vicinage, desire Mr. Alston to recollect him. His wife is with him. I never saw her.
Tell me who you see, and what you do, and what are your plans. You had best return by Boston and Providence if you should have time. Can you make little 'chose' drink the water? I dare say not. If I were there I would force some down his little throat. God bless you all.
- Aaron Burr
- Project Gutenberg's Memoirs of Aaron Burr, Volume 2., by Matthew L. Davis, 1836