The other day I was busy two hours at some Latin verses, and I took so much pains with them--I had written an 'Ode to the Rising Sun,' and felt quite interested, and thought Mr.Phillips would be pleased; but when I took it to him, he just looked at it, and taking a pen dashed out word after word, and said, so disagreeably, 'Shocking! Shocking, Louis! Disgraceful, after all that I said yesterday--the pains that I took with you,' 'Indeed, sir,' I said, 'I tried a great deal,' 'Fine ideas! fine ideas! no doubt,' he said, 'but I have told you dozens of times that I do not want _ideas_--I want _feet_.' I wish those same feet would run away to Clifton with me, Reginald; I hope I have not been saying any thing wrong about Mr.Phillips--I should be very sorry to do so, for he is very kind in his way: he tells me I do not know what I am wishing for, and that school will not suit me, and a great deal about my having to fag much harder and getting into disgrace; but never mind, I should like to make the experiment, for I shall be with you; and, dear as Dashwood is, it is _so_ dull without papa and mamma--I can hardly bear to go into the Priory now they are away.

I seem to want Freddy's baby-voice in the nursery; and sober Neville and Mary are quite a part of home--how long it seems since I saw them! Well, I hope I shall come to you at Easter.

Do you not wish it were here?
I had a nice letter from mamma yesterday--she was at Florence when she wrote, and is getting quite strong, and so is little Mary.

I have now no more time; mamma said papa had written to you, or I would have told you all the news.

I wanted to tell you very much how our pigeons are, and the rabbits, and Mary's hen, which I shall give in Mrs.Colthrop's care when I leave Dashwood.