My dear Mr. Darwin,

Dr. Gray says, “You write & tell about the dog!”—¹ And indeed it was only a supposition of mine that he was suckled by a cat, from his queer tricks when he came to us, a young dog of about 7 months old— He then would chase his own tail for sport; but I have heard of other dogs doing that— But he still keeps up the trick of washing his face with his paws, & will sit as demurely as any old tabby, licking one paw & rubbing his face, & then changing to the other— I am glad if he has any tricks worth noticing, for he is a stupid little doggie at learning anything new, & has nothing but an affectionate heart & some beauty to recommend him— He came to us through one or two transfers, so I cannot know much about his puppyhood; but the lady who gave him to us is coming here this week, & I will ask her if she can find out anything about it—

I wish you had told us something how you were, but I hope you are as well at least as when we last saw you— And finding winter not too severe upon you—

As for us I can’t say that having no winter one year, makes coming back to it any more delightful— Snow & ice & slush & mud, for we are enough on the shore to have our cold turns soon followed by a thaw, are delightful to young people, who can skate & coast & walk & ride, but I have got to an age when I prefer dry roads & green trees & fresh turf!—

Dr. Gray is busy as ever; & astonishing his old friends & puzzling them very much as an “Arab Sheykh,” as our Greek Professor, Mr. Sophocles calls him—² He seems very well—

I wish I could tell you & Mrs. Darwin what delightful recollections we keep of you all & your charming home—³ I assure you I am a woman of consideration that I have seen Mr. Darwin!—

Pray remember us most cordially to all your circle— | Very faithfully | Yours, Jane L. Gray