to keep up for my pretty and you must think of
that."

His letter never came when it ought to have
come and what she went through morning after
morning when the postman brought none for
her the very postman himself compassionated
when she ran down to the door, and yet we
cannot wonder at its being calculated to blunt
the feelings to have all the trouble of other
people's letters and none of the pleasure and
doing it oftener in the mud and mizzle than not
and at a rate of wages more resembling Little
Britain than Great. But at last one morning
when she was too poorly to come running down
stairs he says to me with a pleased look in his
face that made me next to love the man in his
uniform coat though he was dripping wet "I have
taken you first in the street this morning Mrs.
Lirriper, for here's the one for Mrs. Edson." I
went up to her bedroom with it fast as ever I
could go, and she sat up in bed when she saw
it and kissed it and tore it open and then a
blank stare came upon her. "It's very short!"
she says lifting her large eyes to my face. "O
Mrs. Lirriper it's very short!" I says "My dear
Mrs. Edson no doubt that's because your
husband hadn't time to write more just at that
time." "No doubt, no doubt," says she, and
puts her two hands on her face and turns round
in her bed.

I shut her softly in and I crept down stairs
and I tapped at the Major's door, and when the
Major having his thin slices of bacon in his
own Dutch oven saw me he came out of his
chair and put me down on the sofa. "Hush!"
says he, "I see something's the matter. Don't
speak—take time." I says "O Major I am
afraid there's cruel work up-stairs." "Yes
yes" says he "I had begun to be afraid of it—
take time." And then in opposition to his own
words he rages out frightfully, and says "I
shall never forgive myself Madam, that I,
Jemmy Jackman, didn't see it all that morning
—didn't go straight up-stairs when my boot-
sponge was in my hand—didn't force it down
his throat—and choke him dead with it on the
spot!"

The Major and me agreed when we came to
ourselves that just at present we could do no more
than take on to suspect nothing and use our
best endeavours to keep that poor young creature
quiet, and what I ever should have done
without the Major when it got about among the
organ-men that quiet was our object is
unknown, for he made lion and tiger war upon
them to that degree that without seeing it I
could not have believed it was in any gentleman
to have such a power of bursting out with fire-
irons walking-sticks water-jugs coals potatoes
off his table the very hat off his head, and at
the same time so furious in foreign languages
that they would stand with their handles half
turned fixed like the Sleeping Ugly—for I
cannot say Beauty.

Ever to see the postman come near the house
now gave me such a fear that it was a reprieve
when he went by, but in about another ten days
or a fortnight he says again "Here's one for
Mrs. Edson.—Is she pretty well?" "She is
pretty well postman, but not well enough to
rise so early as she used" which was so far
gospel-truth.

I carried the letter in to the Major at his
breakfast and I says tottering "Major I have
not the courage to take it up to her."

"It's an ill-looking villain of a letter," says
the Major.

"I have not the courage Major" I says again
in a tremble "to take it up to her."

After seeming lost in consideration for some
moments the Major says, raising his head as if
something new and useful had occurred to his
mind "Mrs. Lirriper, I shall never forgive
myself that I, Jemmy Jackman, didn't go straight
up-stairs that morning when my boot-sponge
was in my hand—and force it down his throat—
and choke him dead with it."

"Major" I says a little hasty "you didn't
do it which is a Blessing, for it would have done
no good and I think your sponge was better
employed on your own honourable boots."

So we got to be rational, and planned that I
should tap at her bedroom door and lay the
letter on the mat outside and wait on the upper
landing for what might happen, and never was
gunpowder cannon-balls or shells or rockets
more dreaded than that dreadful letter was by
me as I took it to the second floor.

A terrible loud scream sounded through the
house the minute after she had opened it, and
I found her on the floor lying as if her life was
gone. My dear I never looked at the face of
the letter which was lying open by her, for there
was no occasion.

Everything I needed to bring her round the
Major brought up with his own hands, besides
running out to the chemist's for what was not
in the house and likewise having the fiercest of
all his many skirmishes with a musical instrument
representing a ball-room I do not know in
what particular country and company waltzing in
and out at folding-doors with rolling eyes. When
after a long time I saw her coming to, I slipped
on the landing till I heard her cry, and then I
went in and says cheerily "Mrs. Edson you're
not well my dear and it's not to be wondered
at," as if I had not been in before. Whether
she believed or disbelieved I cannot say and it
would signify nothing if I could, but I stayed
by her for hours and then she God ever blesses
me! and says she will try to rest for her head is
bad.

"Major," I whispers, looking in at the
parlours, "I beg and pray of you don't go out."

The Major whispers "Madam, trust me I will
do no such a thing. How is she?"

I says "Major the good Lord above us only
knows what burns and rages in her poor mind.
I left her sitting at her window. I am going
to sit at mine."

It came on afternoon and it came on evening.
Norfolk is a delightful street to lodge in—
provided you don't go lower down—but of a
summer evening when the dust and waste paper lie