The Graves of my Family are in back of the Cabin, up that Meadow, near the line of Cedars . . . I visit ev’ry Day,— yet, Grief too Solitary breeds madness. At my Work I meet a good many of the Publick, who travel in these parts, who will sometimes, like you, let me bend their Ears with my particular Woes. It keeps away the Madness.
