day or
two. Beautiful place--meadow for exercise, horse for your riding, boat
for your rowing, room for your studying--anything you like.

[Sidenote: Mr. George Hogarth.]

[3]13, FURNIVAL'S INN, _Tuesday Evening, January 20th, 1837._

MY DEAR SIR,

As you have begged me to write an original sketch for the first number
of the new evening paper, and as I trust to your kindness to refer my
application to the proper quarter, should I be unreasonably or
improperly trespassing upon you, I beg to ask whether it is probable
that if I commenced a series of articles, written under some attractive
title, for _The Evening Chronicle_, its conductors would think I had any
claim to some additional remuneration (of course, of no great amount)
for doing so?

Let me beg of you not to misunderstand my meaning. Whatever the reply
may be, I promised you an article, and shall supply it with the utmost
readiness, and with an anxious desire to do my best, which I honestly
assure you would be the feeling with which I should always receive any
request coming personally from yourself. I merely wish to put it to the
proprietors, first, whether a continuation of light papers in the style
of my "Street Sketches" would be considered of use to the new paper;
and, secondly, if so, whether they do not think it fair and reasonable
that, taking my share of the ordinary reporting business of _The
Chronicle_ besides, I should receive something for the papers beyond my
ordinary salary as a reporter.

Begging you to excuse my troubling you, and taking this opportunity of
acknowledging the numerous kindnesses I have already received at your
hands since I have had the pleasure of acting under you,

I am, my dear Sir, very sincerely yours.

[Sidenote: Mrs. Hogarth.]

DOUGHTY STREET, _Thursday Night, October 26th, 1837._

MY DEAR MRS. HOGARTH,

I need not thank you for your present[4] of yesterday, for you know the
sorrowful pleasure I shall take in wearing it, and the care with which I
shall prize it, until--so far as relates to this life--I am like her.

I have never had her ring off my finger by day or night, except for an
instant at a time, to wash my hands, since she died. I have never had
her sweetness and excellence absent from my mind so long. I can solemnly
say that, waking or sleeping, I have never lost the recollection of our
hard trial and sorrow, and I feel that I never shall.