Letter. [Sarah Stilson], n. p., to [Oliver Waldo West?]
Written in a fine hand on one side of a small sheet, this is doubtless a draft. Stilson writes with great indignation of West's possessiveness: "What is more I am not your jewel nor your pride nor your pet—not a bit of it . . . . I have written to you for my amusement. I am under no obligation to do so. There is not a hair of my head nor a little finger of mine that belongs to you and if you tell me again that I am your pet &c I will not write to you in a great while."