Chapter 48

She said I was to say what I liked. So I fetched ink and paper and my quill, and wrote it. _Christmas Eve._ SARN. DEAR MISTER WOODSEAVES— I write to acquaint you as I’ve left Missis Grimble, being very near with the food and a driver, and maister’s rheumatics very awkward in sharp weather, and sons awkward also one way or another. I’ve broke the journey at Sarn. I may say Gideon and me think to be married come Harvest Home. I may say I be…