Moore took the two letters from the lad and sat down beside the table to examine them.
"From publishers, h'aren't they?" said Buster interestedly.
Moore nodded.
"That they are, lad," he answered, opening the first as he spoke. "Ah, here is an inclosure."
"Hinside?" asked Buster, eagerly.
"Where else?" demanded the poet. "Did you think it would be wrapped around the outside? From the Gazette. One pound. Good. A pound is better than ten shillings any day."
"Ha munth hagow hit 'ud 'ave been ten pun," said Buster, shaking his round head.
"But it's nine well lost," answered Moore, adding to himself, "aye, well lost, since it is for Bessie's sake."
He found a note inside and read it aloud.
"MR. THOMAS MOORE--