Clive is full of humour, and I enclose you a rude scrap representing the Bishopess of Clapham, as she is called,--the other figure is a rude though entertaining sketch of some other droll personage.
"Lieutenant-Colonel Newcome, etc." V."My Dear Colonel;--The Rev.Marcus Flather has just written me a letter at which I am greatly shocked and perplexed, informing me that my brother Charles has given him a draft upon you for two hundred and fifty pounds, when goodness knows it is not you but we who are many, many hundred pounds debtors to you.

Charles has explained that he drew the bill at your desire, that you wrote to say you would be glad to serve him in any way, and that the money is wanted to make his fortune.

Yet I don't know--poor Charles is always going to make his fortune and has never done it.

That school which he bought, and for which you and me between us paid the purchase-money, turned out no good, and the only pupils left at the end of the first half-year were two woolly-headed poor little mulattos, whose father was in gaol at St.Kitt's, and whom I kept actually in my own second-floor back room whilst the lawyers were settling things, and Charles was away in France, and until my dearest little Clive came to live with me.
"Then, as he was too small for a great school, I thought Clive could not do better than stay with his old aunt and have his Uncle Charles for a tutor, who is one of the finest scholars in the world.

I wish you could hear him in the pulpit.