names.[12] But I think Mr. S-T-A-F-F-O-R-D had better do
the Marquis. I am glad to find that we agree, but we always do.

I have closely overhauled the little theatre, and the carpenter and
painter. The whole has been entirely repainted (I mean the proscenium
and scenery) for this especial purpose, and is extremely pretty. I don't
think, the scale considered, that anything better _could_ be done. It is
very elegant. I have brought "the Child" to this. For the hire of the
theatre, fifteen pounds. The carriage to be extra. The Child's fares and
expenses (which will be very moderate) to be extra. The stage
carpenter's wages to be extra--seven shillings a day. I don't think,
when you see the things, that you will consider this too much. It is as
good as the Queen's little theatre at Windsor, raised stage excepted. I
have had an extraction made, which will enable us to use the door. I am
at present breaking my man's heart, by teaching him how to imitate the
sounds of the smashing of the windows and the breaking of the balcony in
"Used Up." In the event of his death from grief, I have promised to do
something for his mother. Thinking it possible that you might not see
the enclosed until next month, and hoping that it is seasonable for
Christmas, I send it. Being, with cordial regards and all seasonable
good wishes,

Ever, dear Mrs. Watson,
Faithfully yours.

P.S.--This [blot] is a tear over the devotion of Captain Boyle, who (as
I learned from the Child of Israel this morning) would not decide upon
Farmer Wurzel's coat, without referring the question of buttons to
managerial approval.

[Sidenote: Mr. John Poole.]

DEVONSHIRE TERRACE, _Tuesday Night, Christmas Eve, 1850._

MY DEAR POOLE,

On the Sunday when I last saw you, I went straight to Lord John's with
the letter you read. He was out of town, and I left it with my card.

On the following Wednesday I received a note from him, saying that he
did not bear in mind exactly what I had told him of you before, and
asking me to tell it again. I immediately replied, of course, and gave
him an exact description of you and your condition, and your way of life
in Paris and everything else; a perfect diorama in little, with you
pervading it. To-day I got a letter from him, announcing that you have a
pension of _a hundred a year_! of which I heartily wish you joy.

He says: "