f the name of Stefano whenever it occurred puzzled me not a
little; and when, in the last scene, I came to the lines, "Is not
this Stefano your drunken butler? Why, he's drunk now!" I was
interrupted with such a universal shout of laughter that I couldn't
help inquiring the cause of it; when Mr. Stephen Hawtrey, Dr.
Hawtrey's brother and one of the masters, told me that Stephano was
the nickname by which he was habitually designated among the lads,
which sufficiently accounted for their ecstasy of amusement at all
the ludicrous sayings and situations of the Neapolitan "drunken
butler." The Eton young gentlemen addressed me with a kind and
flattering compliment through their captain, and rewarded whatever
pleasure I had been able to give them by a very elegant present,
which I hope my children will value, but which, upon the whole, is
less precious to me than the recollection of their young faces and
voices while I read to them.]

ORCHARD STREET, December 8th.
DEAREST HAL,

I was better than I expected to be after my night journey from Hull.
Hayes and I had a carriage to ourselves after ten o'clock, and I took
advantage of that circumstance to lie on the floor and get some rest. Of
course I woke from each of my short naps aching rather severely, but I
did sleep the greater part of the night; and the two hours I spent in
bed before beginning the day unstiffened my bones and body. The night
was beautifully fine when we left Hull, and continued so more than
half-way. We made our entrance into London, however, in wretched rain
and wind; but the weather has again become fine, and to-day is
beautiful....

The detached stanza of French poetry you send me is a rather exaggerated
piece of enthusiasm as it stands thus alone; though, incorporated in the
poem to which it belongs, the effect of it may be striking. Some of the
stanzas of Manzoni's "Ode to Napoleon" (a very noble poem), detached
from their context, might appear strained and exaggerated. That which
has real merit as a whole seldom gains by being disconnected.

Trouble yourself no more about poor Hero, my dear Hal; I am afraid he is
lost. Mrs. Mulliner left him in the area this morning, and as for nearly
four hours now we have seen and heard nothing of him, there is no doubt
that he has made his escape into the wide world of London, and I fear
there is no chance of hi