Ever affectionately.

[Sidenote: Mr. Frank Stone, A.R.A.]

GAD'S HILL PLACE, _Monday, Aug. 17th, 1857._

MY DEAR STONE,

I received your kind note this morning, and write this reply here to
take to London with me and post in town, being bound for that village
and three days' drill of the professional ladies who are to succeed the
Tavistock girls.

My book I enclose. There is a slight alteration (which does not affect
you) at the end of the first act, in order that the piece may be played
through without having the drop curtain down. You will not find the
situations or business difficult, with me on the spot to put you right.

Now, as to the dress. You will want a pair of pumps, and a pair of white
silk socks; these you can get at Manchester. The extravagantly and
anciently-frilled shirts that I have had got up for the part, I will
bring you down; large white waistcoat, I will bring you down; large
white hat, I will bring you down; dressing-gown, I will bring you down;
white gloves and ditto choker you can get at Manchester. There then
remain only a pair of common nankeen tights, to button below the calf,
and blue wedding-coat. The nankeen tights you had best get made at once;
my "Uncle John" coat I will send you down in a parcel by to-morrow's
train, to have altered in Manchester to your shape and figure. You will
then be quite independent of Christian chance and Jewish Nathan, which
latter potentate is now at Canterbury with the cricket amateurs, and
might fail.

A Thursday's rehearsal is (unfortunately) now impracticable, the passes
for the railway being all made out, and the company's sailing orders
issued. But, as I have already suggested, with a careful rehearsal on
Friday morning, and with me at the wing at night to put you right, you
will find yourself sliding through it easily. There is nothing in the
least complicated in the business. As to the dance, you have only to
knock yourself up for a twelvemonth and it will go nobly.

After all, too, if you _should_, through any unlucky breakdown, come to
be afraid of it, I am no worse off than I was before, if I have to do it
at last. Keep your pecker up with that.

I am heartily obliged to you, my dear old boy, for your affectionate and
considerate note, and I wouldn't have you do it, really and
sincerely--immense as the relief will be to me--unless you are quite
comfortable in it, and able to enjoy i