A letter written by Lucinda Sackett addressed to Mr. James Sackett; Marine Sett., Ill. with instructions to address a response to Henry A. Read; New Haven, CT:
New Haven February 10th 1839
My Dear Son
I now take my pen in hand to write
afew lines to you they are the first I ever wrote you and perhaps
may be the last not my Dear son for the want of inclination
but my health is very poor and I am geting old. the letter you
wrote your Uncle Joel I have seen which has hurt my felings
verry much. why he should write as he has I do not know
I have done nothing to make him. you say you have written
to Daniel and have had no letters from him. it is because
he cannot write you I must tell you it is because he cannot
write it he often speaks of you and would be glad to corrispond
with you if he was able. he has got a fine woman for a wife and
one who tries to do every thing he has four fine children and he
I am glad to inform you is doing very well. whatever he does
amiss is not owing to drink or ill will but for the want of
Education. Isaac is Married and has a large family he is poor
and has to work very hard for a living. I dont feel as though
I could make it my home with him to be one more on his hands
I have always lived out in some family until I am worn
out with hard work. I am now with my Sister your Aunt
Susan. I presume you do not remember any of your relations
this Sister I am with is all I have living now. I do hope
I shall have the pleasure of seeing you before I die it
would indeed be a great comfort to me
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you have relation in New Haven that you would
be pleased over and who would like to see you. I hope you
will write as soon as you receive this. I shall feel anxious
until I hear from you to know wether you have receive
this. I am happy to find you are doing well. I should
like to see your wife and children but it is not likely
I ever shall. I am old and poor and my sister is as poor as I
am. she has two children to take care of and has to work very
hard. she is very kind and willing to do all she can.
Excuse all imperfections remember I am old
This from your affectionate
Mother, Lucinda Sackett