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/ Evening, had, with Collinson to fetch Hughie away from
the �candy-shop�. Then, made punch and a night of it. I
led off a nacreauzing a song on all of em. Herr Sanders comes
out jollily. Collinson singeth of Nelson, and sayeth of our German
�Aint he a Brick, Mr. Gunn, by � he�s a Brick !� (Our
Oxford boot-man might sit for the portrait of the cobbler who tells Sam
Weller his history, in the Flect prison.) Song and health and
toast, till some ten or later, then to bed.
26. Wednesday. To New York. Warren Butlers and left blocks.
Then back to Jersey. Deathly chilly day, air as cold as marble
to the face � small icicles froze in my moustache � droll. Back.
�Mose� I� the afternoon. Sanders with me � ill, breaking out on his
face like measles. don�t know whether I shant catch it. At evening
Hughie bringeth his lady-love�s brother in for a half hour. He exits &
Collinson and printer John Rankin come in. Smoke round stove and
talk of England. Hughie and Collinson like good fellows give up
bed to Herr Sanders and go to his cold room, whither I light them,
and after putting everything available on the bed, boots, hat and car-
pet, I retire to diarize this and cover up Sanders, that
he may perspire. He�s now asleep or there-anent, and
I shall lay down pen, and get into my bed, to think of you
my own dear distant girl. By this time thou hast my letter