'I hope this finds you well, as it leaves me at present; but not so poor Toby, who once you knew. Leastways, I hope he is well, because he is in a better place than this; but he has been very badly off a long while, and last Saturday he died.
'But he told me where you lived; he said you was his master's daughter, and it was you as taught him about the Good Shepherd.
'I told him, as I was one of his mates, I would write, and tell you he died quite happy, knowing that his sins was forgiven.
'He was a good lad, was Toby. We was a very bad lot when he came to our concern; but he read to us, spelling out the words quite slow like, every evening; and there's a many of us that is like new men since we heard him.
'There was one piece he read quite beautiful, and never so much as spelt a word. It was about the Shepherd looking for a sheep, and bringing it home on His shoulder.
'And he would talk to us about that as good as a book, and tell of a picture he had seen in your caravan, and what you used to teach him about it.
'And just before he died, says he, "Tom, write and tell Miss Rosie; she'll be glad like to hear I didn't forget it all."
'So now I've wrote, and pardon my mistakes, and the liberty.
'From yours truly,