Transcription
…at [Horry?], going to [Marion?] Camp to a grand celebration and barbeque, where we all sung Old Lang Sine before parting. I would have thought it very strange had anyone told me that in a little more than one year I would be a miner in California. And perhaps I may soon quit that business and in a few years may almost forget that I have been one.
I was very glad to hear that you had a pleasant time at Cherokee and [Pentz or Pence?] and supposed you have been to several parties this summer. You never tell me anything about anyone that you go with.
I thank you very much for the roses you were kind enough to send me (I do not consider that I deserve to have anything sent to me). I have nothing here to send to anyone, but yes, will send you the result of two assays I made the other day. Each button is pure silver [illegible] 1/2 oz. of ore.
Some of these days will melt down enough to make you a ring and send it to you, provided you still care to write to me. You say to write you about poor old Billy. If you had seen him in the spring, you would not have called him poor. I was offered $100 for him, that was more than he is really worth here, but I would not sell him. He fares much better than his master does. The adage of Madam Smith about spilt milk is a good one, but as I don’t remember ever having spilt any, I could not cry about it.
I supposed you have changed so much since I last saw you that one would hardly recognize you, and as all the young ladies in California generally have 1/2 doz. or more beaux, you might tell me about some of yours.
I have wrote you nearly all the nonsense I can think of at present. Hoping to hear from you soon, and that this will find you well.
Your friend truly,
My regards to Mr. and Ma. [Madam] Smith
Jno. L. Porter