“Dear Miss Sanborn:—I have come across these figures and think you may use them. They are good examples of their craft and are quite clear. First Punch, he is over eighty years old and is whole from his knee down. I haven’t taken his face because he would have to be got down in order to do so, but if you say you do want it and can wait a week for it I am perfectly willing to take same and not have the other one show; really he has a strong face and I can, no doubt, get a good clean picture, front view. Am going to tell you all I can remember about them; if it is of no use to you, no harm is done. First: The Squaw, stands in front of a store; her owner has had same about ten years; she has a lovely face as you see and originally came from Boston. Second, Punch, formerly owned by a German, claimed there were but two like it in this country. Third, “Humpty Dumpty,” a likeness of the original Geo. L. Fox, who was the original “Humpty Dumpty.” In conversation with Mr. Sawyer, he said that how he happened to get the figure was thus: “A man in Woonsocket, R.I., took it for a bill due him; he in turn had means of getting rid of a lot of tobacco among the fishermen of Gloucester, so he gave the sign for the tobacco which he in turn sold to the fishermen at Gloucester. Now should you care for any of these, I’ll do them all under one consideration. No more pay; you have overpaid me already for the little I have been able to do and I’m unwilling to accept any more.” I desire also to heartily thank Mr. Jacob Riis, who is one of the busiest and kindest men in New York. He allowed me to use his description in his last book, “The Old Town,” of an Indian who was a chum of his in childhood and he writes me that he has sent home to Ribe for a special picture of the Sign he describes. Here is his story of his friend. “We boys in the Old Town were strictly prohibited from smoking under the School rules, which prescribed the rod for every offence. In consequence, we did it on the sly, thinking it manly and fine. At his desk at home, Father smoked all the time, and so did everybody else. Many a pound of Kanaster have I carried home from the tobacconist’s shop, the one in Gronnegade, with the naked brown Indian smoking a very long pipe. “From the moment the ‘Last of the Mohicans’ fell into my hands, I looked upon him as a friend and brother. There was something between us which the grown-ups knew nothing about. He must be acquainted with Uncas and Chingachgook and Deerslayer, for he was of the good Delawares and not of the wicked Hurons.