1653.—Monday, November 9, 1868.
B.E. N. (Cygne).—Does any one want your place? Not one but two aspiring, and, of course, fiery young Vulcan want mine; thus, roasted on both sides, I am sure to be “done brown.” What a fool I was to kill the goose that laid the golden egg! I made sure that it would make my fortune; I have had nothing but misfortune ever since. Like the Romans, my solace is, “Civis Londinum sum.”—Pope’s Head-alley.—MARECHAL.
1654.—Wednesday, November 11, 1868.
B.E. N. (Cygne).—Hardly the first, as my “silver cord” is already stretched too far. No more “Londinum” for me? Are not the rivers of the East better than the waters of the “Serpentine”? Crocodiles’ eggs only hatch in “Roman” earth. With not a “drop” to drink.—“La VEUVE.”
1655.—Saturday, November 14, 1868.
B.E. N. (Old Tom).—Méfiez-vous des veuves. Oh! what a fool I was to kill the goose that laid the golden egg! And such an egg! Le gamin de Londres. Tom’s Coffee-house.—E. W.
1656.—Tuesday, November 17, 1868.
B.E. N.—(Le 10 Décembre).—Quand je contemple les étalages des gros marchands d’œufs, il me vient toujours l’idée qu’il neige de gros flocons d’or sur La Manche, et qu’un petit bateau français déploie toutes ses voiles pour les attraper.—E. W.