will not pass my original bound of eighty-four readings in all. My mind
was made up as to that long ago. It will be quite enough. Chicago is
some fifteen hundred miles from here. What with travelling, and getting
ready for reading, and reading, the days are pretty fully occupied. Not
the less so because I rest very indifferently at night.

The people are exceedingly kind and considerate, and desire to be most
hospitable besides. But I cannot accept hospitality, and never go out,
except at Boston, or I should not be fit for the labour. If Dolby holds
out well to the last it will be a triumph, for he has to see everybody,
drink with everybody, sell all the tickets, take all the blame, and go
beforehand to all the places on the list. I shall not see him after
to-night for ten days or a fortnight, and he will be perpetually on the
road during the interval. When he leaves me, Osgood, a partner in
Ticknor and Fields' publishing firm, mounts guard over me, and has to go
into the hall from the platform door every night, and see how the public
are seating themselves. It is very odd to see how hard he finds it to
look a couple of thousand people in the face, on which head, by-the-bye,
I notice the papers to take "Mr. Dickens's extraordinary composure"
(their great phrase) rather ill, and on the whole to imply that it would
be taken as a suitable compliment if I would stagger on to the platform
and instantly drop, overpowered by the spectacle before me.

Dinner is announced (by Scott, with a stiff neck and a sore throat), and
I must break off with love to Bessie and the incipient Wenerableses. You
will be glad to hear of your distinguished parent that Philadelphia has
discovered that "he is not like the descriptions we have read of him at
the little red desk. He is not at all foppish in appearance. He wears a
heavy moustache and a Vandyke beard, and looks like a well-to-do
Philadelphian gentleman."

Ever, my dear Charley, your affectionate Father.

P.S.--Your paper is remarkably good. There is not the least doubt that
you can write constantly for A. Y. R. I am very pleased with it.

[Sidenote: Miss Dickens.]

WESTMINSTER HOTEL, NEW YORK, _Friday, Jan, 18th, 1868._

This will be but a very short report, as I must get out for a little
exercise before dinner.

My "true American catarrh" (the people seem to have a national pride in
it) sticks to me, but I am otherwise well. I began my chu