Urker May 2^nd 1888

My dear Tom – I see they have been frightening you about my ear; and though I know it is just “much ado about nothing”, I have agreed to go to Dublin and consult a Specialist, as soon as D^r Palmer [1] can make it. convenient to come with me. the D^r has had affliction in his own family; one child died and another was dangerously ill; so I would not ask him to leave home till his child is perfectly recovered.

            Your time as you say, is [?] [?] rapidly; we will not much feel it passing till you are with us again; and what a blessing that you have succeeded so well in the business which brought you away! I always expected that you would succeed; and now I expect that you will with God’s blessing come safely home; and that we will yet spend happy days together. Ere you receive this, you will have heard from Minnie [2] of her visit here. She was with us a fortnight save one day. I was astonished at the growth of the children. Tom [3] seems as it he meant to be as tall as yourself. Beatrice [4] also is well grown. Julius [5] looked pale when he came, but was as merry as a kitten before he went away. I never saw more harmless or better behaved children than they are; but alas! I could not hear a word of what they said. Nor could I hear Minnie very well either; but I had provided for that by having Kate [6] here the whole time of their stay. Kate and her children are now all well, and very comfortable. Minnie and her children spent a day with them in Dundalk; and Julius is deeply in love with his cousin Daisy [7] , and wanted to take her home with him. Mary is her baptismal name, but we all call her Daisy; as the name of Mary, causes sad memories. Minnie has grown so lately, that I scarcely knew her at the first glance. I would have liked to have seen little Dorothy [8] ; but I did not ask Minnie to bring her, as she is too young for comfortable travelling; but when you and Minnie come together, I hope to see her.

            Your letter of March 19^th came while Minnie was here. I showed it to her though it had an allusion to my gratitude to you; but you said in it that you were grateful to me. Well I think you did inherit a little of the old blood of Derry [9] and the Boyne [10] from me; and you never heard a mean or dishonourable precept from my lips. Also I never ceased to implore blessing for you from Him who can bless.

            Never regret the sorrows of my early days. I never do. They make comfort all the sweeter when it came; and they taught me to feel for others. And you were the instrument of ministering comfort to my declining years; for which you and yours will have a blessing to the latest generations. But for you, what would I do even now? for Cousin Sam [11] has paid no rent for two terms. He is said to be greatly embarrassed; and I would not be surprised if he would make an offer to sell Cavananore to you. If he does so, beware of him, for he is a kittle [12] customer, and I would not wish him to be enriched at your expense. He has not left a tree worth cutting on C.nore [13] that he has not cut and sold; like the dishonourable fellow that he is.

            All your relations and acquaintances in Ireland are much as usual; so I need not particularize. Jemmie [14] and Lizzie [15] are offering to do well, & seem very happy. Father [16] is quite well & joins in love to you with your ever affectionate Mother,

                        E. Jackson