My adored Percy, pardon the girlish confession,--I have kissed the letter at this place.
Will thy lips press it too, and remain for a moment on the spot which has been equally saluted by your "MATILDA ?" This was the FUST letter, and was brot to our house by one of the poar footmin, Fitzclarence, at sicks o'clock in the morning.

I thot it was for life and death, and woak master at that extraornary hour, and gave it to him.

I shall never forgit him, when he red it; he cramped it up, and he cust and swoar, applying to the lady who roat, the genlmn that brought it, and me who introjuiced it to his notice such a collection of epitafs as I seldum hered, excep at Billinxgit.

The fact is thiss; for a fust letter, miss's noat was RATHER too strong and sentymentle.

But that was her way; she was always reading melancholy stoary books--"Thaduse of Wawsaw," the "Sorrows of MacWhirter," and such like.
After about 6 of them, master never yoused to read them, but handid them over to me, to see if there was anythink in them which must be answered, in order to kip up appearuntses.