I am a to find the kole: that is, I first havin and holdin the wherewithalls, and the whys, and the wherefores. And so do you see me, I expect to have the handlin ont--But that's a nether here nor there. Sir Arthur as good as said it to me--So don't a stand like a Gabriel Gallymaufry all a mort, shilly shally, I would if I durst--A dip in the skimmin dish and a lick of the fingur--That's a not the way with a maiden--What! A don't I know?--Make up to Missee, and say to her, Missee! Here am I! My name is Frank Henley! My father's name is Abimelech Henley! A's a cunnin warm old codger--A tell her that--And says you, here Missee says you am I, at your onnurable Ladyship's reverend sarvice. My father has a got the rhino--A don't forget to tell her that--Smug and snug and all go snacks--Do you mind me? And so, says you, I have a paradventerd umbelly to speak my foolish thofts, says you. That is take me ritely, your Ladyship, says you; under your Ladyship's purtection and currection, and every think of that there umbel and very submissive obedient kind, says you. And so says you, do ee see me Missee, I onnurs and glorifies your Ladyship; and am ready to have and to hold, says you; go fairly go fouly, be happy be lucky, any day o'the week, says you; I and my father, honest Aby, says you. He can raise the wind, says you! He can find the wherewithalls to pay for lawyer's parchment, says you--But mind, that's a nether here nor there--So a here Missee stands I, says you; I and my honest old father--A's got the marygolds, says you! The gilly flowers, the yellow boys, says you! Golore!--But that's a nether here nor there. So do you tell her all a that I bid ee, and a mind your pees and cues. Who knows but Wenbourne-Hill itself may be one day all our own? I say who knows? There be old fools and young fools--I tellee that--Old planners, and improvers, and bite bubbles; and young squitter squanders, gamblers, and chouse chits--Mark you me that--And there be wax and parchment too--Ay and post obits[1]; and besides all doosoors and perkissits. A what is money good for but to make money? A tell me that. [Footnote 1: The original reads postt-off bites. The context suggested post obits, which reading is confirmed by succeeding letters. The syllable _bits_ might very naturally, in the mind of honest Aby, be changed into _bites_. Dates have for certain reasons been omitted; but, from this and other passages, we may perceive that the date of this correspondence is antecedent to the bill for protecting minors against usury.] And so in the name and the lovin kindness of the mercifool sufferins of almighty goodness, and peace and glory and heavenly joys, no more at present. ABIMELECH HENLEY LETTER LII _Abimelech Henley to Sir Arthur St. Ives_ _Wenbourne-Hill_ Most onnurable Sir, my ever onnurd Master,