away by the Mouse, I
fancy I will write to you before I take my one Pipe--which were better
left alone, considering that it gives but half an hour's rather pleasant
musing at the expense of a troubled night. Is it not more foolish then
to persist in doing this than being frightened at a Mouse? This is not a
mere fancy of the Boy--who is not a Fool, nor a 'Betty,' and is seventeen
years old: he inherits his terror from his Mother, he says: positively he
has been in a cold Sweat because of this poor little thing in the room:
and yet he is the son of a Butcher here. So I sent him home, and write
to you instead of hearing him read Hawthorne. He is to bring some
poisoned Wheat for the Mouse to-morrow.

Another Book he read me also made me think of you: Harness: whom I
remember to have seen once or twice at your Father's years ago. The
Memoir of him (which is a poor thing) still makes one like--nay,
love--him--as a kindly, intelligent, man. I think his latter letters
very pleasant indeed.

I do not know if you are in London or in your 'Villeggiatura' {13a} in
Kent. Donne must decide that for me. Even my Garden and Fields and
Shrubs are more flourishing than I have yet seen them at this time of
Year: and with you all is in fuller bloom, whether you be in Kent or
Middlesex. Are you going on with your Memoir? Pray read Hawthorne. I
dare say you do not quite forget Shakespeare now and then: dear old
Harness, reading him to the last!

Pray do you read Annie Thackeray's new Story {13b} in Cornhill? She
wrote me that she had taken great pains with it, and so thought it might
not be so good as what she took less pains with. I doated on her Village
on the Cliff, but did not care for what I had read of hers since: and
this new Story I have not seen! And pray do you doat on George Eliot?

Here are a few questions suggested for you to answer--as answer I know
you will. It is almost a Shame to put you to it by such a piece of
inanity as this letter. But it is written: it is 10 p.m. A Pipe--and
then to Bed--with what Appetite for Sleep one may.

And I am yours sincerely always

E. F.G.

VI.

WOODBRIDGE: _June_ 6, [1872].

DEAR MRS. KEMBLE,

Some little while ago I saw in a London Book Catalogue 'Smiles and
Tears--a Comedy by Mrs. C. Kemble'--I had a curiosity to see this: and so
bought it. Do you know it?--Would you like to have it? It seems to be
ingeniously contrived, and of easy and natural Dialog