Betty was called, and with reluctant feet,
Came up at a white heat—
“Well, never I see chicken like them chicken!
My saucepans, they have been a pretty while in ’em!
Enough to stew them, if it comes to that,
To flesh and bones, and perfect rags; but drat
Those Anti-biting Pills! there is no bile in ’em!”
A LAWYER’S LETTER.
To Mr. Richard Walton, 32, Lincoln’s Inn.
DEAR DICK,