Hendersons HarborAug 9th 1892Dear Mother,We are now in a baot and uncle Edgar is fishing for pickeral. The wind is blowing great guns from S.S.E. and we are in teh trough of the sea. We have our dinner on board but we shall not be able to land yet but have struck sail. We hope to make a landing by supper time. We are all well. The weather has been warm. affty' thy sonUncle T.P.Cope Jr.
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