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man is.   I�ve had fits of trying to believe in
him but tis impossible.   His generosity, rare as it ap-
pears, is but approbativeness, for which he takes the hugest
credit to himself.   If he invites you out to drink at a tavern
it is with an eye to business, that he may sell �a case of
bitters� to the landlord.  All his nocturnal indulgences are
of this sort.     The greed for money grows upon him, is
in his blood.        All his faculties are sharpened to that
one point: I never saw the passion so terribly developed
in a young man.   I see how it�s done, to, and �tis a
study.       How truth, mercy, everything go to the wall
when the Main Chance comes in!      He gets an intima-
tion that a Southern customer is shaky on credit, bills
coming due which may not be met, said customer having
remitted an order to him.    It is not complied with �
the firm holds off until it be found whether the man
meets his engagements, when if he do, they ignore the
receipt of the order � lie about it � some Post Office
blunder � and express promptness to deal with one &c.
� Meantime that poor devil Latto has to keep him-
self, an wife and family on $8 per week!  Leslie
knows this and �don�t know anything about him.�
Unfortunate Scotchman with a taste for poetizing � Burn�s
bitten.    He sent in a Burns ode, did this poor Latto,
to the London Centenary Competition.   It was horribly
long, says Norval.                              I saw little Miss
Brooks, her mother and a broad-shouldered young
man walking beside the former, on Bleecker St, the