_Bournemouth_, _August_ 19_th_, 1887.
MY DEAR MISS BOODLE,—I promise you the paper-knife shall go to sea with
me; and if it were in my disposal, I should promise it should return with
me too. All that you say, I thank you for very much; I thank you for all
the pleasantness that you have brought about our house; and I hope the
day may come when I shall see you again in poor old Skerryvore, now left
to the natives of Canada, or to worse barbarians, if such exist. I am
afraid my attempt to jest is rather _à contre-cœur_. Good-bye—_au
revoir_—and do not forget your friend,