I mean to send one on 'em next week, but I raly think they ought to shell out more chink than they du for my letters, for I've had to study the dictionary two days a ready to sarch out long words, and I haint got half enough yit. I went to Cousin Beebe about it, and he said that mebby I'd better study some of the arly English writers before I begun to write stories, or else Washington Irving, Cooper, or some of them chaps might cut me out. I didn't jest know what he meant by arly writers, but made up my mind that it was them that begun to write when they was shavers, so I went into a bookstore and told them I wanted to buy a good book that was writ by some English youngster. "Here's a work by Boz," say he, a handing down a big book; "he begun the youngest and writes the best of any of the folks across the water." I bought the book and went back to my office. Gaully-oppalus, but aint that Boz Dickens a smasher! if he don't beat all natur, nobody does. If I could write like him I raly should bust my dandy vest, I should be so puffed up. I kept on reading eenamost all night, and more than once I bust right out a crying afore I knew it. I swan to man that leetle Nell that he writes about is the sweetest, purtyest critter that anybody ever dreamed on. Oh! how I wish you would read the story about her, it's as good as the Pilgrim's Progress any day. Then there's a mean, etarnal sneaking coot, a Mr. Quilp, that drunk bilin hot licker out of a skillet, and licked a poor peaked little critter--his wife--amost to death every once in a while, and when he hadn't her handy he took to cudgelling a wooden image. I swan to man, it made my blood bile to read about sich dreadful carryings on; but yit when I cum to consider and think on it all over, it kinder seems to me as if Boz Dickens had stretched his galluses a trifle, in writing out sich an allfired spiteful varmint. Human natur is bad enough, any how; but my paper is run out, and I aint but jest room to subscribe myself. Your loving son, JONATHAN SLICK. * * * * * LETTER XVI. MISS JOSEPHINE BURGESS--A TALE. In which Jonathan shows up the Hardships of Sewing Girls--Describes a Tammany Hall Ball--Milliner Aristocracy and Exclusiveness--Informs the reader how Miss Josephine Burgess took a tall man with whiskers into her Establishment, who took her in in return--The desperation of a little Apothecary--His Marriage, and the Ascent of Miss Josephine Burgess from the front store to a work room a little higher up.