eb.,

Mrs.

ould have heard from me before this. An old Story, by way of Apology-to one who

h a Nursery window about two miles off. From that window I remember seeing my Father with another Squire [10c] passing over the Lawn with their little pack of Harriers-an almost obliterated Slide of the old Magic Lantern. My Mother used to come up sometimes, and we Children were not much comforted. She was a remarkable woman, as you said in a former letter: and as I constantly believ

of Letter-paper. I think he was a capital Musical Critic, though he condemned Piccolomini, who was the last Singer I heard of Genius, Passion, and a Voice that told both. I am told she was no Singer: but that went some way to make

nd to give. But I somehow wished to write: and not to write about myself;

F