I can't write any more, my back aches so with putting crosses against the books I want to read.

The catalogue is rather heavy.

I think I shall use one of my books to make a list in of what I want to read during this year.

Isn't it good of Lorraine?
Poor Lorraine!" Having devoured my own letters, I looked up to see how my comrades were enjoying their share of the budget which the Halifax postmaster had faithfully forwarded.
The expression on Dennis O'Moore's face was so mixed that it puzzled me, but he did not look satisfied with his letter, for he kept drawing it out again, and shaking it, and peeping into the envelope as if he had lost something.

At last he put the whole thing into his pocket with a resigned air, and drove his hands through his black curls, saying, "The squire all over, GOD help him!" "What has he done now ?" I asked.
"Sent me twenty pounds, and forgotten to enclose it!".