Cardinal-flower, nearly done. beach plum, almost ripe. Squash vines on the Great Fields, generally killed and blackened by frost (though not so much in our garden), revealing the yellow fruit, perhaps prematurely . . .

  I received your note of yesterday this A.M. I am glad you write me so frankly. I know well how dear one’s own time & solitude may be, and I would not on any consideration violate the sanctity of your prerogative.

  I fear too that I may have heretofore trespassed upon your time too much If I have please pardon me as I did it unwittingly I felt the need of congenial society-& sought yours I forgot that I could not render you an equivalent. It is good for one to be checked-to be thrown more and more upon his own resources. I have lived years of solitude (seeing only my own family, & Uncle James occasionally,) and was never happier. My heart however was then more buoyant and the woods and fields-the birds & flowers, but more than these, my moral meditations afforded me a constant source of the truest enjoyment. I admire your strength & fortitude to battle the world. I am a weak and broken reed. Have charity for me, if not sympathy. Can any one heart know another’s? If not let us suspend our too hasty judgement against those from whom we differ.

  I hope to see you in due time at Brooklawn where you are always a welcome & instructive guest.

  With my kind regards to your family, I remain

  Yours faithfully
  D Ricketson