[_Skerryvore_], _Bournemouth_, _September_ 1886.
DEAR LOCKER,—You take my verses too kindly, but you will admit, for such
a bluebottle of a versifier to enter the house of Gertrude, where her
necklace hangs, was not a little brave. Your kind invitation, I fear,
must remain unaccented; and yet—if I am very well—perhaps next
spring—(for I mean to be very well)—my wife might. . . . But all that is
in the clouds with my better health. And now look here: you are a rich
man and know many people, therefore perhaps some of the Governors of
Christ’s Hospital. If you do, I know a most deserving case, in which I
would (if I could) do anything. To approach you, in this way, is not
decent; and you may therefore judge by my doing it, how near this matter
lies to my heart. I enclose you a list of the Governors, which I beg you
to return, whether or not you shall be able to do anything to help me.
The boy’s name is —; he and his mother are very poor. It may interest
you in her cause if I tell you this: that when I was dangerously ill at
Hyères, this brave lady, who had then a sick husband of her own (since
dead) and a house to keep and a family of four to cook for, all with her
own hands, for they could afford no servant, yet took watch-about with my
wife, and contributed not only to my comfort, but to my recovery in a
degree that I am not able to limit. You can conceive how much I suffer
from my impotence to help her, and indeed I have already shown myself a
thankless friend. Let not my cry go up before you in vain!—Yours in
hope,