mber) put on _their_ hats and
walked off, leaving us absolutely devoid and destitute of a staff for
to-night. One has since been improvised; but it was a small matter to
raise a stir and ill will about, especially as one of our men was
equally in fault.

We have a regular clerk, a Bostonian whose name is Wild. He, Osgood,
Dolby, Kelly, Scott, George the gasman, and perhaps a boy or two,
constitute my body-guard. It seems a large number of people, but the
business cannot be done with fewer. The speculators buying the front
seats to sell at a premium (and we have found instances of this being
done by merchants in good position!), and the public perpetually
pitching into Dolby for selling them back seats, the result is that they
won't have the back seats, send back their tickets, write and print
volumes on the subject, and deter others from coming.

You may get an idea of the staff's work, by what is in hand now. They
are preparing, numbering, and stamping six thousand tickets for
Philadelphia, and eight thousand tickets for Brooklyn. The moment those
are done, another eight thousand tickets will be wanted for Baltimore,
and probably another six thousand for Washington. This in addition to
the correspondence, advertisements, accounts, travellings, and the
mighty business of the reading four times a week.

The Cunard steamers being now removed from Halifax, I have decided _not_
to go there, or to St. John's, New Brunswick. And as there would be a
perfect uproar if I picked out such a place in Canada as Quebec or
Montreal, and excluded those two places (which would guarantee three
hundred pounds a night), and further, as I don't want places, having
more than enough for my list of eighty-four, I have finally resolved not
to go to Canada either. This will enable me to embark for home in April
instead of May.

Tell Plorn, with my love, that I think he will find himself much
interested at that college,[20] and that it is very likely he may make
some acquaintances there that will thereafter be pleasant and useful to
him. Sir Sydney Dacres is the best of friends. I have a letter from Mrs.
Hulkes by this post, wherein the boy encloses a violet, now lying on the
table before me. Let her know that it arrived safely, and retaining its
colour. I took it for granted that Mary would have asked Chorley for
Christmas Day, and am very glad she ultimately did so. I am sorry that
Harry lost his prize, but believe it was not his fault. Let