Astoria, August 12th.
Dear Girls: If mother and the remaining three kept to the programme, they all left for Lenox on Saturday and are at last settled in their summer quarters, much to my relief. So long as they would not come to us, I think it was highly necessary for them to go somewhere, as the city grew hotter and smellier and more unbearable every day.
Knowing what New York is at this season, and inferring what Washington must be, I am sure you will consider my proposition reasonable when I beg that you will come on and freshen up a little here at Astoria “by the side of a river so clear.” . . . When you come Robert will sail you up to Riker’s Island, in order to make you feel more at home, where the Anderson Zouaves are encamped. We went up there the other day with some illustrated papers sent by Jane to the men, and were enthusiastically received by a company of bathers, who swam round the boat for whatever we had to offer, and whom we left seated on the rocks reading Frank Leslie, with not so much as a button or an epaulette on by way of dress.