“Marcus.”
It was not often that so long and formal a letter as this found its way into the family post office. Most of the missives exchanged between the members of the society, were brief notes, a few specimens of which are given:
“Marcus Page, Esq.—Dear Sir,—I propose that we take the hay-cart, Saturday afternoon, and all hands go off after nuts. What say you to the plan?
“Yours truly, Otis.
“Oct. 25th.”
“O, fie, Ronald! how could you say, ‘I intended to have wrote!’ It is perfectly barbarous. ‘I intended to have written,’ is what you should have said. ‘I got my lessons’ is bad, too; you mean you learned your lessons. Please put two t’s in regretted, next time, and write Friday with a capital F. But I wont play the critic any more, just now, for fear you might banish from your list of correspondents
“Your faithful friend, Kate.
“Nov. 2.”
To this note Kate received the following reply, the next day:
“O, fie, Kate! how could you say, ‘I intended to have written!’ It is perfectly barbarous. ‘I intended to write’ is what you should have said. If you don’t believe me, I can show you the rule in the grammar. Don’t be afraid to ‘play the critic’—I like to have you do it!
“Yours in fun, Ron.
“Nov. 3.”
Ronald was not accustomed to take things upon trust, especially from one near his own age, when he could conveniently verify their truth for himself. This habit led him to investigate the blunders pointed out by Kate, and the result was, that he was able to convict his critic of a serious grammatical error—a “turning of the tables” which he enjoyed with a roguish zest. Kate did not need to consult the grammar, to satisfy herself in regard to the error; for she at once recalled to mind the rule she had learned: “All verbs expressive of hope, desire, intention, or command, must invariably be followed by the present, and not the perfect of the infinitive.”