Nothing convinces me more of my treacherous memory than my not
recollecting you at the memorable "New-boot Supper;" for I certainly must
have been as long in that society as yourself. Be that as it may, you have
induced me to scrape together a few reminiscences in an imperfect way,
leaving to you, from your better recollection, to correct and flavour the
specimen to the palate of your readers, who have, most deservedly, every
reliance upon your good taste and moral tendency. I have in vain tried to
meet with the music of "the good old days of Adam and Eve," consequently
have lost the enjoyment of the chorus--"Sing hey, sing ho!" It would be
too much to ask you to sing it, but perhaps you may too-te-too it in your
next. May your good intentions to the would-be Æsculapius be attended with
success.--I remain, dear Punch, your old friend,