"And—in—a while—oor weee Wullie—came doon the stairs again—and he says 'Mither! Baby's burrrned.' And that was the way oor poor woe baby was burnt!"
Now for one English one and then I must stop to-day. I flatter myself I can tell this with a nice mincing and yet vinegar-ish voice.
"When I married my 'Usbin I had no expectation that he would live three week.
"But Providence—for wise purposes no doubt!—has seen fit to spare him three years.
"And there he sits, all day long, a-reading the Illustrious News."
Now I must stop....
Your loving niece,
Juliana Horatia Ewing.