and success attend you!

Believe me always,
Faithfully yours.

[Sidenote: Mr. Dudley Costello.]

_June 7th, 1844._

DEAR SIR,

Mrs. Harris, being in that delicate state (just confined, and "made
comfortable," in fact), hears some sounds below, which she fancies may
be the owls (or howls) of the husband to whom she is devoted. They ease
her mind by informing her that these sounds are only organs. By "they" I
mean the gossips and attendants. By "organs" I mean instrumental boxes
with barrels in them, which are commonly played by foreigners under the
windows of people of sedentary pursuits, on a speculation of being
bribed to leave the street. Mrs. Harris, being of a confiding nature,
believed in this pious fraud, and was fully satisfied "that his owls was
organs."

Faithfully yours.

[Sidenote: Mr. Robert Keeley.]

9, OSNABURGH TERRACE, _Monday Evening, June 24th, 1844._

MY DEAR SIR,

I have been out yachting for two or three days; and consequently could
not answer your letter in due course.

I cannot, consistently with the opinion I hold and have always held, in
reference to the principle of adapting novels for the stage, give you a
prologue to "Chuzzlewit." But believe me to be quite sincere in saying
that if I felt I could reasonably do such a thing for anyone, I would do
it for you.

I start for Italy on Monday next, but if you have the piece on the
stage, and rehearse on Friday, I will gladly come down at any time you
may appoint on that morning, and go through it with you all. If you be
not in a sufficiently forward state to render this proposal convenient
to you, or likely to assist your preparations, do not take the trouble
to answer this note.

I presume Mrs. Keeley will do Ruth Pinch. If so, I feel secure about
her, and of Mrs. Gamp I am certain. But a queer sensation begins in my
legs, and comes upward to my forehead, when I think of Tom.

Faithfully yours always.

[Sidenote: Mr. Daniel Maclise.]

VILLA DI BAGNARELLO, ALBARO, _Monday, July 22nd, 1844._

MY VERY DEAR MAC,

I address you with something of the lofty spirit of an exile--a banished
commoner--a sort of Anglo-Pole. I don't exactly know what I have done