and
The Bride of Abydos
. I won't—it is too much, though I am strongly tempted, merely for the
say
of it. No bad price for a fortnight's (a week each) what?—the gods know—it was intended to be called poetry.
I
dined regularly to-day, for the first time since Sunday last—this being Sabbath, too. All the rest, tea and dry biscuits—six
per diem
. I wish to God I had not dined now!—It kills me with heaviness, stupor, and horrible dreams; and yet it was but a pint of Bucellas, and fish