MY DEAREST JOHN,--I was very much disappointed that you did not come home to pass the Sabbath. I had a nice dinner all ready for you; and your little sister cried hard when she found that you were not to sit down with us. We were all very glad, however, to get your letter; and I am thankful that you have been so prospered in your business. I had no idea that you would be able to make so much money by selling papers in Canton: they must be a great reading community. I hope, my dear son, that all is made honestly. There are some things in your letter which have puzzled me a little, and I do not know that I exactly understand all that you say. You also speak of visiting the Joss-house once or twice. I never knew any family of that name: only I happen to remember, that, up in Manchester, there were quite a large number of people by the name of Josslyn; and sometimes the boys used to call them, in sport, "the Josses." It is not a good habit to give nicknames to other persons, especially where you visit the family. You also speak of their burning a great deal of colored paper, and a great many scented sticks before an image. I asked Bob what he thought this meant: but he jumped right behind the closet-door, and made the most extraordinary noises with his mouth that I ever heard; and when he came out again his eyes were full of tears, and he looked as if he had had a fit. "Bob," said I, "what is the matter?" "I have had a high-strike,"--he should have said high-sterick,--"I do have 'em sometimes." "Robert," I said very seriously, "what do you think your brother means?"