"
"How long do you think it will be before I can get about--be fit to
go downstairs, I mean?"
"Well, sir, I reckon et depends on yoursel'. Try, an' 'twill come,
as the Doctor said when Bill swallered 'arf-a-crown an' wanted to get
et up agen by Lady-Day, rent bein' doo."
"Do you think a week would do it?"
"Better say a fortni't, sir."
"What day is it to-day?"
"Thursday."
"Have I been ill for two days?"
"For a fortni't an' two days."
"Bless my soul!"
"Amen, sir."
"Caleb, would you mind writing a letter for me?"
Caleb had no objection; and the composition that followed may be
given in full, for works of divided authorship have always possessed
an interest of their own from the days of Homer, Homer and Homer
downwards:--
"Hond Twins,--"
"Mr. Fogo's complements to the pare of You not forgetting Miss
Thomasina and shall be glad if you will all Dine with me at
7 p.m. in the evening precisely on This day (Wensdy) fortunite.
You will be glad to heer that I am recuvering fast thanks to
your care and kindness which Is his own words and Gospel truth
and so No more at present from yours to command"
"P. Fogo, Esq."
"per C. Trotter."
"Knowing whats up with the kitchin range you wont look for much
of A dinner.
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