LETTER CXVIII.
Bank of Virginia, Feb. 9, 1814.
11, A. M.
Dear Theodore,
Your letter was handed to me a few minutes ago, at
Dr. B—'s, by old Quashia. I thank you for this mark of
your attention; for, to say the truth, I have never failed getting
a letter from you by the wagons, or the mail, without
a feeling of disappointment. But when I think I perceive
the cause of your uncommunicativeness to arise from the fatigue
to which you have exposed yourself on my account,
or, perhaps, to low spirits, the effect of your present unpleasant
situation, it makes me uneasy. I have been, indeed,
very much disturbed of late, by an occurrence as unexpected
as it is distressing; and, perhaps, I tinge other objects
with the hue of the medium through which I observe them.
I sent the books for your entertainment. Why the papers
do not arrive I am at a loss to conceive, unless through
the negligence of the post-office. They are not forwarded
to me, here: perhaps they are detained at Charlotte C. H.
I think I have heard of such a practice there, last winter.
I send a capital Scotch plough for four horses, and castings
for another: we must see if our folks can make one. I
wish you would have all the clover seed sown at the middle
quarter. Cambey may take the Diomed mare and the mule
at the lower quarter. Perhaps it would not injure some of
the young horses to plough them: at least, it will not after
the ground is broken up. I am grieved that we are likely
to be disappointed of ice.
Will you be so good as to plant out (if to be found) some
wild cherry and wild currant (alias Corinth) trees.
Quashia (the man, not the wood,) interrupts me.
Yours, ever,
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke.
