ed Sam, 'wot's all this?'

'Nothing the matter, I hope?' said Mary, peeping over his shoulder.

'Bless them eyes o' yourn!' said Sam, looking up.

'Never mind my eyes; you had much better read your letter,' said the
pretty housemaid; and as she said so, she made the eyes twinkle with
such slyness and beauty that they were perfectly irresistible.

Sam refreshed himself with a kiss, and read as follows:--

'MARKIS GRAN
'By DORKEN
'Wensdy.

'My DEAR SAMMLE,

'I am werry sorry to have the pleasure of being a Bear of ill news your
Mother in law cort cold consekens of imprudently settin too long on the
damp grass in the rain a hearing of a shepherd who warnt able to leave
off till late at night owen to his having vound his-self up vith brandy
and vater and not being able to stop his-self till he got a little sober
which took a many hours to do the doctor says that if she'd svallo'd
varm brandy and vater artervards insted of afore she mightn't have been
no vus her veels wos immedetly greased and everythink done to set her
agoin as could be inwented your father had hopes as she vould have
vorked round as usual but just as she wos a turnen the corner my boy she
took the wrong road and vent down hill vith a welocity you never see and
notvithstandin that the drag wos put on directly by the medikel man
it wornt of no use at all for she paid the last pike at twenty minutes
afore six o'clock yesterday evenin havin done the journey wery much
under the reglar time vich praps was partly owen to her haven taken in
wery little luggage by the vay your father says that if you vill come
and see me Sammy he vill take it as a wery great favor for I am wery
lonely Samivel n. b. he VILL have it spelt that vay vich I say ant right
and as there is sich a many things to settle he is sure your guvner wont
object of course he vill not Sammy for I knows him better so he sends
his dooty in which I join and am Samivel infernally yours

'TONY VELLER.'

'Wot a incomprehensible letter,' said Sam; 'who's to know wot it means,
vith all this he-ing and I-ing! It ain't my father's writin', 'cept this
here signater in print letters; that's his.'

'Perhaps he got somebody to write it for him, and signed it himself
afterwards,' said the pretty housemaid.

'Stop a minit,' replied Sam, running over the letter again, and pausing
here and there, to reflect, as he did so. 'You've hit it. The gen'l'm'n
as wrot