H. L.
East Boston, Aug. 28, ’44.
Sweet Queen:—Be on the Charlestown Bridge at precisely half past two o’clock this afternoon, if you want to go on an excursion down to the Islands. Arrangements have been made for a grand chowder and break-down. Old Smite is to play the banjo. Virginia, the “lioness,” will be in the boat. You are to be my partner, and V. is to mate with Jim. We will stay over night, and have an old-fashioned time. That’s the way to go it. Now do not fail, Mary; we shall have every thing aboard by half past two. Look out for that jockey who wears the slouched hat. He’s laid up, under the doctor’s care, just now. I would’nt be in his boots for a picayune.
H. B.
P. S.—I left a set of dead props with you last evening. Have them along, as I calculate to gaff some of the green-horns. Moral: This is a brave world.
No. — State Street, May 20, 1844.
Dear Mary: I shall not be with you next Tuesday night, as my promise runs. Circumstances, entirely beyond my control, will prevent me. Expect me in a few days. In the mean time, do not meet with that graceless simpleton, Tirrell. He will degrade you to the lowest pitch. I have a small affair to arrange with him that you are not aware of. He will have to bite the dust, or lose his life.
Your own, love, C. H. B.