DEAR FREDDY,--Let us mingle our tears. The worst is about to happen If
you were as good a churchgoer as one could wish, you would have been
in your pew yesterday morning, when the banns were read out (for the
first time of asking) "between George Goodman, bachelor, and Emily
Parsons, spinster, both of this parish," though this would not have
conveyed to you the appalling fact that your man is marrying my entire
staff all at once. I doubt, however, if you will be able to find cause
or just impediment, etc.
Yours,
H.
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[Illustration: "DIDN'T KNOW WOT 'APPINESS WAS TILL I GOT MARRIED."
"AND NOW YOU'VE 'AD TO LEAVE IT, EH?"
"WOTCHER MEAN, _LEAVE_ IT? I'VE COME BACK TO IT."]
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