Captain Puffeigh retired to his cabin, called for a supply of pens, ink, paper, and old crusted port, and proceeded to torture himself into letter-writing condition. In a short time he worked his ideas up to literary red-heat, and produced the following extraordinary effusion, during the manufacture of which he had blessed the paper, execrated his spectacles, and, in fact, blamed everything, but his own dull brains. Mrs. Puffeigh being young and pretty, we fear did not see much to admire in her husband, and was not at all sorry to be once more free from his oriental attentions.
"H. M. S. Stinger, off Spithead,
"16 November, ——."Robby's own Pet,
"I am sorry I cannot come on shore to say one more good-bye to my Tooty. I know that horrid Captain Dasher will be with you at the pic-nic about this time; but my pet will keep him at a distance. Don't give the dog too much meat, and discharge that saucy maid of yours, find out if you can to what ship her fellow belongs, his name is James Green.
"I almost cry when I think how lonely you must be, poor Tooty, keep up your spirits. Tell the gardener to discharge his boys, and send all the peaches to the fruiterers. Keep the cellar key yourself, and if my brother visits you, give him bin three, port, it is good enough for a curate. How will my pet get on without me. Keep up your music, and don't paint your dear little face, don't you remember how people laughed at me at the archery meeting, when I wiped Tooty's face and the stuff came off.
"Pretend to be gay, and show the envious ones that you are happy—don't waltz, darling pet. Doctor Muddle says, it's the very worst exercise you can take, slow dances are not so bad. I hope you will visit your relations as much as possible, particularly those who do not wish you to invite them in return.
"I have a pair of your dear little bootikins, which stand in my cabin, I look at them with tears in my eyes.
"Put the servants on board wages when you are absent.
"With a billion kisses from your own doting
"Robert Puffeigh."
Tooty screamed with delight when she read this letter, but followed her own inclinations in spite of its warnings.
The lieutenants and other commissioned officers were in their respective cabins, emulating their captain's example in letter-writing. Crushe scrawled two epistles which ran as follows:—
"Stinger, at Spithead,
"16 November."My Beloved Aunt,
"Providence has ordained that I shall be chastened by being separated from those I love. I kiss the rod, and submit with resignation.
"You will be happy to hear, my dear aunt, that I am in a ship where the voice is raised in supplication, and where we can meet, when we choose, for mutual improvement. One of our officers, named Cravan, is seriously seeking, and I trust will become a shining light. I gave your beautiful tracts to our boatswain, a most worthy young inquirer, who, I doubt not, will make good use of them. He remarked, "if he had ten times as many they would be acceptable," which gratified me exceedingly. We were obliged to flog that wretched man, Clare, yesterday. I did all I could for him, but he was hardened, and refused a tract offered him by the boatswain. I enclose my mite towards the Reverend Mr. Bulpurp's chapel, give it him, with my humble prayers for the cause.
"My poor wife still refuses to join our blessed band, and therefore will not visit you. I am much concerned about her hereafter. She refused to read that excellent book you gave me for her special perusal. You may remember it was called "Beauty a Sin;" pray for her, dear aunt, and for your unworthy nephew,
"Howard Crushe."
(No date.)
"Dear Mary,
"Another of your weak compositions has reached me; how foolish you are to waste your time in endeavouring to make me believe you care for me. I have no money to send you. Ask your doting father for some. So you still refuse to visit my aunt, and assist me to secure her money.
"Very good; until you do this I shall not answer another of your letters.
"Your afft. husband,
"Howard Crushe."
When Crushe's aunt perused her letter she wiped her eyes, declared "he was too good a husband for such a wife," and sitting down wrote an order for one hundred pounds, which she forwarded to his agents, with directions to place the same to her nephew's account.
His wife read hers with a sad heart, and when she had received its last keen stab, cried bitterly, and wished the grave might soon be her resting-place.
The manly fellow who wrote them anticipated these results.