I passed your house on Wednesday, being then atop of the Brighton Era;
but there was nobody at the door, saving a solitary poulterer, and all
my warm-hearted aspirations lodged in the goods he was delivering. No
doubt you observed a peculiar relish in your dinner. That was the
cause.
I send you the MS. I fear you will have to read all the five slips; but
the subject I think of is at the top of the last, when the guest, with
his back towards the spectator, is looking out of window. I think, in
your hands, it will be a very pretty one.
Then, my boy, when you have done it, turn your thoughts (as soon as
other engagements will allow) first to the outside of The Warren--see
No. 1; secondly, to the outside of the locksmith's house, by night--see
No. 3. Put a penny pistol to Chapman's head and demand the blocks of
him.
I have addled my head with writing all day, and have barely wit enough
left to send my love to my cousin, and--there's a genealogical
poser--what relation of mine may the dear little child be? At present, I
desire to be commended to her clear blue eyes.
Always, my dear George,
Faithfully yours,
[HW: Boz.]
[Sidenote: Mr. William Harrison Ainsworth.]