Any little thing might give a clue to the mystery." I sought Simon in the stable-yard, and found him as grim and platonic as ever.
"Glad to see yer honour," said Simon, hastily.

"I've made up my mind scores of times to write a letter, but I hev had sich bad luck wi' letters, that I 'adn't the necessary quantity o' pluck, you know." "Bad luck with your letters, Simon?
How ?" "Why, yer see, yer honour, after the doctor experimented on me by waccinatin' me agin' small-pox, cholera, and the measles, together wi' 'oopin' cough and several other baby complaints as 'ev a hinjurious effect upon people as 'ev cut their wisdom teeth, you know as I told yer honour that I caught that 'ere werry disease of small-pox which spiled my beauty for ever.

Well, as I told yer months ago, I went to the 'ousemaid for a mite 'o comfort, and catches 'er a-courtin' wi' the coachman.

So I goes 'ome, and I says I'll write 'er a letter as would charm a dead duck in a saucepan.

So I begins my letter this yer way: 'My dearest dear,' I says, 'times es bad, and people be glad to catch anything; so I, thinkin' small-pox better than nothin', catched that.
Forgive me, and I'll never do so no more.