October 17th 1862 [Friday]. Camp near Shepherds Town, Md.
My Dear Father:
I have written no less than four letters this month and haven’t received an answer to one of them yet. I can’t tell what the reason is whether you can’t write or whether it is in the fault of the mail. I wish you would make it a practice of writing at least twice per week and then I should always know what to expect.
What is Georgetown Bank Stock selling at per share now? And if you know please tell me what Smyrna Bank Stock is selling at. I will enclose a check for two hundred dollars. I want you to take eight out, which I owe you, and invest the rest in some kind of stock that you think is safe and will pay.
My ambition is to get to own a farm. How do the corn crops look through Kent and Sussex Counties?
Does Mr. Sullivan still own the farm in Kent? When did you hear from Uncle John’s boys last? What does the dirty Tribune think of McClellan?
I tell you, candidly, that I should like to help hang the contemptible man that publishes that paper. Think of all that McClellan has done; to commence abusing him immediately, as soon as the enemy is driven from Maryland. If he had carried a musket from Harrison’s Landing to this place, I don’t think he would feel like going forward. If he can’t like the way things are carried on why don’t he come out himself and fight a while.
Greeley’s nigger brigade, I believe, hasn’t been organized. Well I guess I have said more than I ought to about him. But I can’t help but hate a man that abuses McClellan all the time; whether he is successful or not.
Your affectionate son. W. J. Fisher
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