MANCHESTER, E.—The discordance of my private despatches with the public documents suddenly and most unexpectedly arrests my progress. In retiring to the old Prairie settlement, I grieve to find myself obliged to record what you, I know, fully believe, the entire sincerity and disinterestedness of my long and anxious endeavours to arrange this question.—YOURS.—July 23, 1856.
731.—Friday, July 25, 1856.
FAIRS.—Middlesex to wit.—These annual gatherings cannot be postponed, for a good deal of business is done by help of the gilt gingerbread, toys, and pan-pipes. The scaffolding for the shows at the last two broke down about three weeks ago, and could not be mended in time.
732.—Saturday, July 26, 1856.
MISTIFIED, not Gratified, but Pacified. My colours have been rather roughly torn away; but I am trying to steady myself by keeping a sharp look out upon the windmills, and nailing an old head of Don Quixote at the prow.—Tom.
733.—Monday, July 28, 1856.
MANCHESTER, E.—My favourite clipper does not sail yet; so it is just possible that I may get some private news, which, you must see, is quite indispensable to support the public documents.—YOURS.—July 26, 1856.
734.—Thursday, July 31, 1856.
IMMER der Deinige, aber der zweifel erscheint in der Ferne.