Voice in a Hen reputed so unlucky [122] that Mr and Mrs Fletcher, Senior, who had known of sad results from such unnatural exhibitions, recommended her being slain and stewed down forthwith. Posh, however, resolves to abide the upshot. . . . Posh and his Father are very busy getting the Meum and Tuum ready for the West; Jemmy, who goes Captain, is just now in France with a Cargoe of salt Herrings. I suppose the Lugger will start in a fortnight or so. My Eyes refuse reading here, so I sit looking at the sea (with shut eyes), or gossiping with the women in the Net-loft. All-fours at night. Thank you for the speckled Hen; Posh expressed himself much obliged for his. . . .”
“Lowestoft, Sunday, Sept. 29/72.
[‘Letters,’ p. 345.]
“. . . Posh—after no fish caught for 3 weeks—has had his boat come home with nearly all her fleet of nets torn to pieces in last week’s winds. On Wednesday he had to go 8 miles on the other side of Halesworth after a runaway—came home, drenched from top to toe, with a great Bulrush in his hand, which he could not help admiring as he went along: and went with me to the Theatre afterwards, where he admired the ‘Gays,’ as he
called the Scenes; but fell asleep before Shylock had whetted his knife in the Merchant of Venice. . . .”
“Lowestoft, Friday, Jan. 9, 1874.
[‘Letters, p. 366.]
“. . . No doubt Berry thinks that his Month’s Notice, which was up last Monday, was enough. Against that I have to say, that, after giving that Notice, he told George Moor that I might stay while I pleased; and he drove me away for a week by having no one but his own blind Aunt to wait on me. What miserable little things! They do not at all irritate, but only bore me. I have seen no more of Fletcher since I wrote, though he called once when I was out. I have left word at his house, that, if he wishes to see me before I go, here am I to be found at tea-time. I only hope he has taken no desperate step. I hope so for his Family’s sake, including Father and Mother. People here have asked me if he is not going to give up the Business, &c. Yet there is Greatness about the Man: I believe his want of Conscience in some particulars is to be referred to his Salwaging Ethics; and your Cromwells, Cæsars, and Napoleons have not been more scrupulous. But I shall part Company with him if I can do so without Injury to his Family. If not, I must let him go on under some ‘Surveillance’: he must wish to get rid
of me also, and (I believe, though he says not) of the Boat, if he could better himself.”
“Lowestoft, Sunday, Feb. 28, 1875.
[‘Letters,’ p. 370.]
“. . . I believe I wrote you that Fletcher’s Babe, 10 months old, died of Croup—to be buried to-morrow. I spoke of this in a letter to Anna Biddell, who has written me such a brave, pious word in return that I keep to show you. She thinks I should speak to Fletcher, and hold out a hand to him, and bid him take this opportunity to regain his Self-respect; but I cannot suppose that I could make any lasting impression upon him. She does not know all.”
“Woodbridge, Dec. 23/76.
[‘Letters,’ p. 396.]