'ARRY ON EQUALITY.
Dear Charlie,—Bin down as a dab with that dashed heppydemick, dear boy.
I 'ave bloomin' nigh sneezed my poor head orf. You know that there specie of toy
Wot they call cup-and-ball! That's me, Charlie! My back seemed to open and shut,
As the grippe-demon danced on my innards, and played pitch-and-toss with my nut.
Hinfluenza be blowed! It licks hague and cholera rolled into one.
The Sawbones have give it that name, I'm aware, but of course that's their fun.
I've 'ad colds in the head by the hunderd, but this weren't no cold, leastways mine.
Howsomever, I'm jest coming round a bit, thanks to warm slops and QyNine.
Took to reading, I did as I mended; that's mostly a practice with me.