The next letter received from Maria was short and to the point:
Dear Papa:—I received your letter of March 31st the 14th of this month; as for that of March 9, I received it some time last month, but I do not remember the day. . . . The garden is backward, the inclosure having been but lately finished. I wish you would be so kind as to send me seven yards of cloth like the piece I send you. Adieu, my dear Papa.
"I am your affectionate daughter,
Maria Jefferson.
My dear Maria:—By the stage which carries this letter I send you seven yards of striped nankeen of the pattern enclosed. . . . There are no stuffs here of the kind you sent for. April 30th the lilac blossomed; May 4th, the gelder rose, dogwood, redbud, azalea were in blossom."
Th. Jefferson.
His "dear Poll" must likewise be reminded of other things: "Tell me whether you see the sun rise every day; whether you know how to make a pudding yet, cut a beefsteak, sow spinach, or to set a hen." And though out of doors he wanted her to be, he had long ago warned her, "Remember, though, as a constant charge, never to go without your bonnet, because it will make you ugly, and then we shall not love you so much."
"Our birds and flowers are well and send their love to yours," he wrote a granddaughter; and to his daughter, Martha Jefferson Randolph, with her brood of little children
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