Keats tells moreover how an unknown admirer from the west country had sent him a letter and sonnet of sympathy, with which was enclosed a further tribute in the shape of a L25 note; how he had been both pleased and displeased,--'if I had refused it I should have behaved in a very braggadocio dunderheaded manner, and yet the present galls me a little'; and again how he has received through Woodhouse a glowing letter of sympathy and encouragement from Miss Jane Porter, the then famous authoress of _Thaddeus of Warsaw_ and _The Scottish Chiefs_, who desires his acquaintance on her own behalf and that of her sister Anna Maria, almost equally popular at the hour by her romance of _The Hungarian Brothers_. By all this, says Keats, he feels more obliged than flattered--'so obliged that I will not at present give you an extravaganza of a Lady Romancer. I will be introduced to them if it be merely for the pleasure of writing to you about it--I shall certainly see a new race of People.' Pity he failed to carry out his purpose: pen-portraits satirical and other are not lacking of these admired sisters, the tall and tragical Jane, the blonde and laughing Anna Maria, 'La Penserosa' and 'L'Allegra,' but a sketch by Keats would have been an interesting addition to them. Still in the same letter, he complains of the sore throat which he finds it hard to shake off, and tells how he has given up or all but given up taking snuff (nearly everybody in that generation snuffed), and how he has been shooting with Dilke on Hampstead Heath and shot a tomtit,--a feat which for a moment calls up this divine poet to our minds in the guise of one of the cockney sportsmen of Seymour's caricatures. Never mind: he can afford it.