as well as five children, all severely attacked.
One they have lost of this fearful complaint.

Give our kindest regards to Mr. Borrow and accept them
yourselves. Ever, dear Mrs. Borrow, sincerely yours,

T. G. HAKE.

I send Beethoven's epitaph for Miss Clarke's album according to
promise. It is _not_ by Wordsworth.

BURY ST. EDMUNDS, _June 24, '51._

MY DEAR MRS. BORROW,--I am very sorry to hear that you are not
feeling strong, and that these flushes of heat are so frequent
and troublesome. I will prescribe a medicine for you which I
hope may prove serviceable. Let me hear again about your
health, and be assured you cannot possibly give me any trouble.

I am also glad to hear of Mr. Borrow. I envy him his bath. I am
looking out anxiously for the new quarterly reviews. I wonder
whether the _Quarterly_ will contain anything. Is there a
prospect of vol. iv.? I really look to passing a day and two
half days with you, and to bringing Mrs. Hake to your classic
soil some time in August--if we are not inconveniencing you in
your charming and snug cottage. I hope Miss Clarke is well. Our
united kind regards to you all. George is quite brisk and
saucy--Lucy and the infant have not been well. Mrs. Hake has
better accounts from Bath. Believe me, dear Mrs. Borrow, very
sincerely yours,

T. G. HAKE.

Mr. Donne was pleased that Mr. Borrow liked his notice in
_Tait_. You can take a little cold sherry and water after your
dinner.

Mr. A. Egmont Hake, one of Dr. Hake's sons, has also given us an
interesting reminiscence of Borrow:[240]

Though he was a friend of my family before he wrote _Lavengro_,
few men have ever made so deep an impression on me as George
Borrow. His tall, broad figure, his stately bearing, his fine
brown eyes, so bright yet soft, his thick white hair, his oval,
beardless face, his loud rich voice, and bold heroic air, were
such as to impress the most indifferent of lookers-on. Added to
this there was something not easily forgotten in the manner in
which he would unexpectedly come to our gates, singing some
gipsy song, and as suddenly depart. His conversation, too, was
unlike that of any other man; whether he told a long story or
only commented on some ordinary topic, he was always