Your loving
Grandpater.
[Others of his family would occasionally receive elaborate pieces of nonsense, of which I give a couple of specimens. The following is to his youngest daughter:—]
Athenaeum Club, May 17, 1892.
Dearest Babs,
As I was going along Upper Thames
Street just now, I saw between Numbers 170 and 211 ( (primary parenthesis) but you would like to know what I was going along that odorous street for. Well, it was to inquire how the pen with which I am now writing—( (2nd parenthesis) you see it is a new-fangled fountain pen, warranted to cure the worst writing and always spell properly) (2nd parenthesis)—works, because it would not work properly this morning. And the nice young woman who took it from me—( (3rd parenthesis) as who should say you old foodle!) (3rd parenthesis) inked her own fingers enormously ( (4th parenthesis) which I told her I was pleased they were her fingers rather than mine) (4th parenthesis)—But she only smole. ( (5th parenthesis) Close by was another shop where they sold hose—( (6th or 7th parenthesis) indiarubber, not knitted)—( (nth parenthesis) and warranted to let water through, not keep it out); and I asked for a garden syringe, thinking such things likely to be kept by hosiers of that sort—and they said they had not any, but found they had a remnant cheap ( (nnth parenthesis) price 3 shillings) which is less than many people pay for the other hosiers' hose) (end of parentheses) a doorpost at the side of the doorway of some place of business with this remarkable notice:
RULING GIRLS WANTED.
Don't you think you had better apply at once? Jack will give you a character, I am sure, on the side of the art of ruling, and I will speak for the science—also of hereditary (on mother's side) instinct.
Well I am not sure about the pen yet—but there is no room for any more.