you read of a sad accident in the Wye t'other day
? A dozen drowned; and Mr. Rossoe, a corpulent gentleman, preserved by a boat-hook or an eel-spear, begged, when he heard his wife was saved —no—
lost
—to be thrown in again!!—as if he could not have thrown himself in, had he wished it; but this passes for a trait of sensibility. What strange beings men are, in and out of the Wye!
I have to ask you a thousand pardons for not fulfilling some orders before I left town; but if you knew all the cursed entanglements I
had
to wade through, it would be unnecessary to beg your forgiveness.—