you, as you know, a sum sufficient for your education, upon
condition of your being placed at Mr. Gray's until your nineteenth
birthday. That time is approaching. Upon your nineteenth birthday you
will leave school. Mr. Gray gives me the best accounts of you. My plans
for you are not quite settled. What are your own wishes? It is late for
you to think of college; and as you will undoubtedly be a business man,
I see no need of your learning Greek or writing Latin poetry. At your age
I was earning my own living. Your mother and the family are well. Your
affectionate father,

"BONIFACE NEWT.

"P.S.--Your mother wishes to add a line."

"DEAR ABEL,--I am very glad to hear from Mr. Gray of your fine progress
in study, and your general good character and deportment. I trust you
give some of your leisure to solid reading. It is very necessary to
improve the mind. I hope you attend to religion. It will help you if
you keep a record of Dr. Peewee's texts, and write abstracts of his
sermons. Grammar, too, and general manners. I hear that you are very
self-possessed, which is really good news. My friend Mrs. Beacon was
here last week, and she says you _bow beautifully_! That is a great
deal for her to admit, for her son Bowdoin is one of the most elegant
and presentable young men I have ever seen. He is very gentlemanly
indeed. He and Alfred Dinks have been here for some time. My dear son,
could you not learn to waltz before you come home? It is considered very
bad by some people, because you have to put your arm round the lady's
waist. But I think it is very foolish for any body to set themselves up
against the customs of society. I think if it is permitted in Paris and
London, we needn't be so very particular about it in New York. Mr. Dinks
and Mr. Beacon both waltz, and I assure you it is very _distingue_
indeed. But be careful in learning. Your sister Fanny says the Boston
young men stick out their elbows dreadfully when they waltz, and look
like owls spinning on invisible teetotums. She declares, too, that all
the Boston girls are dowdy. But she is obliged to confess that Mr. Beacon
and Mr. Dinks are as well dressed and gentlemanly and dance as well as
our young men here. And as for the Boston ladies, Mr. Dinks tells Fanny
that he has a cousin, a Miss Wayne, who lives in Delafield, who might
alter her opinion of the dowdiness of Boston girls. It seems she is a
great heiress, and very beautiful; and it is said here (but you