I hope these few lines will find you well. I am very poorly myself and have been for some time. I am so unhappy that I have not heard from George for a long time. I hope you will write, and to your brother William. Then he will write to you, for he says none of you never write to him, and I make a bad hand, I shake so. I am a poor old creature since I had a bad fall. I am to walk with a stick. I left the work ever since harvest and I have not heard from my sister this half year. I fear she is dead. I am poorly off now I cannot work, but I have got but little time to be here. God knows how long your brother Robert has been here but thought nothing. But his oldest, Mary Broughton, is married to Bill Potter and only fit to lick cats and dogs. Bob is about taking a wife and his father is going to give the shop up to him at a later time {is im} divided for he shouldn't a had Mary's son as foreman. {him games bishop is wols and you} and their thing to be sold tomorrow. I fear you cannot read my writing, I do it so bad. My dear boy, if you know anything of George, let him know that you have heard from me, and tell him his child is well. And the old man is so fond of her he would now not part from her for the world. But they are all bad as ever, and she is a lying bitch. I never speak to none of them but the child. 'Tis a pretty little thing. Pray write to us and let us all know all you can. I suppose you have seen [unknown]. They had a letter last week, I heard. And I wish I can see you all, but I am too old to come. What you cannot make out you must guess at, for I cannot do no better. [unknown]. Give our love to your wife and all the dear children. The same to your dear sister and all, and to George. And don’t forget yourself. God bless you all, my dear children, forever. So I remain your loving mother,

Ann Broughton