“I have heard dat you stan at your gate and talk to a fine dress coachman. I have heard dat you go to church wid him. I have heard dat you am promise to me but you luv him.
George.
“Many kisses me sweet luv.”
The sixth, and last, is a jumble of incomprehensible passion. No doubt the writer knew what he meant, and perhaps the lady was able to interpret the author’s meaning. But I do not know whether the average reader will gain much by reading:—
“Dear Eliza—I take the liberty of myself to inform you this few lines, hoping you may not offend (i.e. be offended), as often is. I had often seen you in my hearts. There are myriads of loveliness in my hearts toward you. My loving intentions were really unto another female, but now the love between I and she are very out now entirely.
“And now his the excepted time I find to explain to my lovely appearance, but whether if their be any love in your hearts or mind towards me it is hard for I to know, but his I take this liberty to inform you this kind, loving, and affectionate letter.
“I hope when it received into your hand you receive with peace and all goodwill, pleasure, and comforts, and hoping that you might ansure me from this letter with a loving appearance, that in due time Boath of us might be able to join together in the holy state of matremony.
“I hoping that the answer which you are to send to me it may unto good intention to me from you that when I always goine to write you again I may be able to write saying, my dear, lovely Eliza.
“Your affectionate lover, affraied (i.e. afraid), J.S.
“Dear Eliza, wether if you are willing or not, Please to sent me an ansure back. Do my dear.”