T. W. P.

LETTER FROM JAMES JESSAMINE.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE KNICKERBOCKER.

SIR: It has not been until after much reflection on my own part, and I
must say, very civil encouragement on that of my friend MR. JOHN WATERS,
whose acquaintance I have chanced upon some months back, that I have
determined to venture, either in the form of an advertisement extra, or
possibly by your very polite admission of this self-introductory letter
into your fashionable pages, to submit to the view of the more refined and
intellectual part of the society of the Atlantic cities and particularly
to that of New York, the peculiar claim that I conceive myself to possess
upon their consideration and regard.

I have been hitherto deterred from taking this decisive step, as well by
the very disturbed and almost turbulent state, which, since my arrival in
this country, appears to have characterized its monetary concerns--alas!
my dear Sir, those horrid yet necessary evils and grievances of life!--as
by some expectations I had cause to entertain soon after I set foot upon
your hospitable shores, of the immediate death of a maiden aunt in
Cornwall, upon which incident, and her continued celibacy, depend very
much all my present reversionary hopes.

The health of the old lady being however at my latest intelligence
unexpectedly reinstated; the cotton crops coming forward as I understand
to good markets, and the wonderful discovery having been made of
converting western pork into sallad oil; the Tories being put down, and
the banks having entered into what some time ago seemed the _paulo post
futurum_ of specie payments; I desire to share in the general tide of
prosperity; I launch myself upon it at its flood, discard all reserve, and
shall descend at once without farther preface into the midst of what I
have to say.

I came out then some time ago _ostensibly_ to kill a trout or two in some
of your delicious streams; and indeed I may without presumption say en
passant that few professors of the Rod excel me either in the niceties of
my throw, the cool self-possession with which I take my fish, or the
indomitable perseverance and perfect tact with which I drown and then land
him with a single hair. I say _ostensibly_, for I have now no desire to
conceal from you the ulterior objects that I had in view of either making
a book to replenish my purse, or of establishing myself for life in this
your rising