DEAR Sir, pray accept a little volume. ’Tis a legacy from Elia, you’ll see. Silver and Gold had he none, but such as he had, left he you. I do not know how to thank you for attending to my request about the Album. I thought you would never remember it. Are not you proud and thankful, Emma?
Many things I had to say to you, which there was not time for. One why should I forget? ’tis for Rose Aylmer, which has a charm I cannot explain. I lived upon it for weeks.—
Next I forgot to tell you I knew all your Welch annoyancers, the measureless Beethams. I knew a quarter of a mile of them. 17 brothers and 16 sisters, as they appear to me in memory. There was one of them that used to fix his long legs on my fender, and tell a story of a shark, every night, endless, immortal. How have I grudged the salt sea ravener not having had his gorge of him!
The shortest of the daughters measured 5 foot eleven without her shoes. Well, some day we may confer about them. But they were tall. Surely I have discover’d the longitude—
Sir, If you can spare a moment, I should be happy to hear from you—that rogue Robinson detained your verses, till I call’d for them. Don’t entrust a bit of prose to the rogue, but believe me
My Sister sends her kind regards.
