twenty minutes before ten
on Monday morning.

I was very much pleased (as I had reason to be) with your account of the
reading in _The Daily News_. I thank you heartily.

[Sidenote: Mr. T. P. Cooke.]

IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE LATE MR. DOUGLAS JERROLD.

COMMITTEE'S OFFICE, GALLERY OF ILLUSTRATION,
REGENT STREET, _Thursday, July 30th, 1857._

MY DEAR MR. COOKE,

I cannot rest satisfied this morning without writing to congratulate you
on your admirable performance of last night. It was so fresh and
vigorous, so manly and gallant, that I felt as if it splashed against my
theatre-heated face along with the spray of the breezy sea. What I felt
everybody felt; I should feel it quite an impertinence to take myself
out of the crowd, therefore, if I could by any means help doing so. But
I can't; so I hope you will feel that you bring me on yourself, and have
only yourself to blame.

Always faithfully yours.

[Sidenote: Mrs. Compton.]

GAD'S HILL PLACE, HIGHAM BY ROCHESTER,
_Sunday Night, Aug 2nd, 1857._

MY DEAR MRS. COMPTON,

We are going to play "The Frozen Deep" (pursuant to requisition from
town magnates, etc.) at Manchester, at the New Free Trade Hall, on the
nights of Friday and Saturday, the 21st and 22nd August.

The place is out of the question for my girls. Their action could not be
seen, and their voices could not be heard. You and I have played, there
and elsewhere, so sociably and happily, that I am emboldened to ask you
whether you would play my sister-in-law Georgina's part (Compton and
babies permitting).

We shall go down in the old pleasant way, and shall have the Art
Treasures Exhibition to ourselves on the Sunday; when even "he" (as
Rogers always called every pretty woman's husband) might come and join
us.

What do you say? What does he say? and what does baby say? When I use
the term "baby," I use it in two tenses--present and future.

Answer me at this address, like the Juliet I saw at Drury Lane--when was
it?--yesterday. And whatever your answer is, if you will say that you
and Compton will meet us at the North Kent Station, London Bridge, next
Sunday at a quarter before one, and will come down here for a breath of
sweet air and stay all night, you will give your old friends great
pleasure. Not least among them,