77
        John Conworth�s pretty Housekeeper.
�berrying� � getting raspberries, somewhere in the
direction of Pine Pond, in company with the Tews
and Martins, and we talked of it.           She seems
as good and diffident and self-sacrificing as
may be, and were I, John Conworth, I�d make
her my wife, if she�d have me, without a day�s
delay.     She is the widow of a man much her elder,
a tailor who drank and died, when she made
dresses and came to live with the Martins; her
relatives by marriage.       John, so Henry Tew in-
forms me, has some hankerings after
Sarah Ann Bolton � of whom this nice housekeeper
is visibly worth ten thousand.   Supper, sitting in the
parlor, imbibition and bed.       John Conworth still
shows very hospitably; likes to have things hand-
some about him and, if a money-lover, does not
let it influence his household expenditure, when
guests are under his roof.      I suggested to Ar-
thur Tew, as I had to Conworth, that an ice-
house would obviate any supposed necessity for
the eternal salt-pork diet in summer, and both
took kindly to the notion.   Within the limits of cour-
tesy, I have been free both of comment and com-
mendation of the way of life here, and I think
it has some effect on George, of whom, maybe, I
have written too impetuously.   But in all his sen-
timents he is contracted and decendental.