our own drawing-room.
There have been three fine days in four weeks. On every other the water
has been falling down in one continual sheet, and it has been thundering
and lightening every day and night.
My hand shakes in that feverish and horrible manner that I can hardly
hold a pen. And I have so bad a cold that I can't see.
In haste to save the post,
Ever faithfully.
P.S.--Charley has a writing-master every day, and a French master. He
and his sisters are to be waited on by a professor of the noble art of
dancing, next week.
[Sidenote: Mrs. Charles Dickens.]
PARMA, ALBERGO DELLA POSTA, _Friday, Nov. 8th, 1844._
MY DEAREST KATE,
"If missis could see us to-night, what would she say?" That was the
brave C.'s remark last night at midnight, and he had reason. We left
Genoa, as you know, soon after five on the evening of my departure; and
in company with the lady whom you saw, and the dog whom I don't think
you did see, travelled all night at the rate of four miles an hour over
bad roads, without the least refreshment until daybreak, when the brave
and myself escaped into a miserable caffe while they were changing
horses, and got a cup of that drink hot. That same day, a few hours
afterwards, between ten and eleven, we came to (I hope) the d----dest
inn in the world, where, in a vast chamber, rendered still more desolate
by the presence of a most offensive specimen of what D'Israeli calls the
Mosaic Arab (who had a beautiful girl with him), I regaled upon a
breakfast, almost as cold, and damp, and cheerless, as myself. Then, in
another coach, much smaller than a small Fly, I was packed up with an
old padre, a young Jesuit, a provincial avvocato, a private gentleman
with a very red nose and a very wet brown umbrella, and the brave C. and
I went on again at the same pace through the mud and rain until four in
the afternoon, when there was a place in the coupe (two indeed), which I
took, holding that select compartment in company with a very ugly but
very agreeable Tuscan "gent," who said "_gia_" instead of "_si_," and
rung some other changes in this changing language, but with whom I got
on very well, being extremely conversational. We were bound, as you know
perhaps, for Piacenza, but it was discovered that we couldn't get to
Piacenza, and about ten o'clock at night we halted at a place called
Stradella,
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