d loved wherever the
English language is tampered with.

So we have risen together, you to a point from which you may be easily
observed and flayed alive by the newspapers, while I am the same
pleasant, unassuming, gentlemanly friend of the poor that I was when
only a justice of the peace and comparatively unknown.

I cannot close this letter without expressing a wish that your married
life may be a joyous one, as the paper at Laramie has said, "and that no
cloud may ever come to mar the horizon of your wedded bliss." (This
sentence is not my own. I copy it verbatim from a wedding notice of my
own written by a western journalist who is now at the Old Woman's Home.)

Mr. President, I hope you will not feel that I have been too forward in
writing to you personally over my own name. I mean to do what is best
for you. You can truly say that all I have ever done in this way has
been for your good. I speak in a plain way sometimes, but I don't beat
about the bush. I see that you do not want to have any engrossed bills
sent to you for a couple of weeks.

That's the way I was. I told all my creditors to withhold their
engrossed bills during my honeymoon, as I was otherwise engrossed.
This remark made me a great many friends and added to my large circle of
creditors. It was afterward printed in a foreign paper and explained in
a supplement of eight pages.

We are all pretty well here at home. I may go to Washington this fall if
I can sell a block of stock in the Pauper's Dream, a rich gold claim of
mine on Elk mountain. It is a very rich claim, but needs capital to
develop it. (This remark is not original with me. I quote from an
exchange.)

If I do come over to Washington do not let that make any difference in
your plans. If I thought your wife would send out to the neighbors and
borrow dishes and such things on my account I would not go a step.

Just stick your head out of the window and whistle as soon as the
cabinet is gone and I will come up there and spend the evening.

Remember that I have not grown cold toward you just because you have
married. You will find me the kind of a friend who will not desert you
just when you are in trouble. Yours, as heretofore,

_Bill Nye._

P. S.--I send you to-day a card-receiver. It looks like silver. Do not
let your wife bear on too hard when she polishes it. I was afraid you
might try to start into keeping house without a card-receiver, so I
bought this yesterday. When I