DEAR P.,--I am poorly. I have been to a funeral, where I made a pun, to
the consternation of the rest of the mourners; and we had wine. I can't
describe to you the howl which the widow set up at proper intervals.
Dash could; for it was not unlike what he makes.
The letter I sent you was directed to the care of E. White, India House,
for Mrs. Hazlitt: _which_ Mrs. Hazlitt I don't yet know; but A. has
taken it to France on speculation. Really it is embarrassing. There is
Mrs. present H., Mrs. late H., and Mrs. John H.; and to which of the
three Mrs. Wigginses it appertains I don't know. I wanted to open it;
but it's transportation.
I am sorry you are plagued about your book. I would strongly recommend
you to take for one story Massinger's "Old Law." It is exquisite. I can
think of no other.
Dash is frightful this morning. He whines and stands up on his
hind-legs. He misses Beckey, who is gone to town. I took him to Barnet
the other day; and he couldn't eat his victuals after it. Pray God his
intellects be not slipping.
Mary is gone out for some soles. I suppose it's no use to ask you to
come and partake of 'em, else there's a steam-vessel.
I am doing a tragi-comedy in two acts, and have got on tolerably; but it
will be refused, or worse. I never had luck with anything my name was
put to.
Oh, I am so poorly! I _waked_ it at my cousin's the bookbinder's, who is
now with God; or, if he is not, it's no fault of mine.
We hope the frank wines do not disagree with Mrs. Patmore. By the way, I
like her.
Did you ever taste frogs? Get them, if you can. They are little Liliput
rabbits, only a thought nicer.
Christ, how sick I am!--not of the world, but of the widow's shrub.
She's sworn under six thousand pounds; but I think she perjured herself.
She howls in E _la_; and I comfort her in B flat. You understand music?
If you haven't got Massinger, you have nothing to do but go to the first
bibliotheque you can light upon at Boulogne, and ask for it (Gifford's
edition); and if they haven't got it, you can have "Athalie," par
Monsieur Racine, and make the best of it; but that "Old Law" 's
delicious!
"No shrimps!" (That's in answer to Mary's question about how the soles
are to be done.)
I am uncertain where this _wandering_ letter may reach you. What you
mean by "poste restante," God knows. Do you mean I must pay the postage?
So I do, to Dover.
We had a merry passage with the widow at the Commons. She was
howling,--part howling, and part giving directions to the
proctor,--when, crash! down went my sister through a crazy chair, and
made the clerks grin; and I grinned, and the widow tittered; _and then I
knew that she was not inconsolable_. Mary was more frightened than hurt.
She'd make a good match for anybody (by "she," I mean the widow).
"If he bring but a _relict_ away,
He is happy, nor heard to complain."
_Shenstone._
Procter has got a wen growing out at the nape of his neck, which his
wife wants him to have cut off: but I think it rather an agreeable
excrescence; like his poetry, redundant. Hone has hanged himself for
debt. Godwin was taken up for picking pockets. Beckey takes to bad
courses. Her father was blown up in a steam-machine. The coroner found
it insanity. I should not like him to sit on my letter.[F]
Do you observe my direction? Is it Gaelic?--classical?
Do try and get some frogs. You must ask for "grenouilles" (green-eels).
They don't understand "frogs"; though it's a common phrase with us.
If you go through Bulloign [Boulogne], inquire if old Godfrey is living,
and how he got home from the Crusades. He must be a very old man now.
If there is anything new in politics or literature in France, keep it
till I see you again; for I'm in no hurry. Chatty-Briant [Chateaubriand]
is well, I hope.
I think I have no more news; only give both our loves ("all three," says
Dash) to Mrs. Patmore, and bid her get quite well, as I am at present,
bating qualms, and the grief incident to losing a valuable relation.