Swan to gain his estates, he had spent it in dissipation, and was a ruined man. Swan proceeded to London, and consulted another lawyer. This man advised an action which swallowed up the wife's small fortune, without getting them one step nearer obtaining the estate. Trouble after trouble came upon William. His heart was almost crushed, but he continued the action to the best of his ability. His wife begged of him to leave law alone, to return to their Yorkshire home, live by their industry, and give up all thoughts of the property. He refused to act upon her good advice. He got into debt, and was committed to the Fleet prison on his inability to pay. Here ill luck still followed him, for he caught the jail fever. In his sickness his devoted wife got permission to visit him, and bring him some delicacies. She, alas, caught the fever, and in a few days died. He recovered, but the death of his loving helpmate was almost too much for him. She had endured much for his sake, but never by word or deed showed regret at becoming his wife. Shortly afterwards a jail delivery enabled him to leave prison. His illness rendered him so weak that he could hardly walk. He obtained lodgings in an obscure lane or alley near Chiswell Street, and afterwards was found dead in bed. It is believed that his remains were buried in a pauper's grave. Short Letters. The shortest letters on record are two exchanged between a couple of members of the Society of Friends. One of them, wishing to learn if a correspondent in a distant town had any news to communicate, posted to him a quarto sheet of paper, on which nothing but a note of interrogation was written, thus: ? (meaning, "what news?") He received in reply, by next post, a blank sheet of paper, indicating that there was nothing to relate. Some of the best of brief letters have been penned by members of the dramatic profession. The following are good specimens. A tradesman made application to Mordaunt, the player, for payment of an account, as follows:-- "Sir,--Your bill having been standing a very long time, I beg to have it settled forthwith. Yours, etc., J. Thwaites." Said the comedian in reply:-- "Sir,--When your bill is tired of _standing_, it is welcome to sit down. Yours, etc., T. H. M." The next letters passed between Samuel Foote, the famous actor, and his unfortunate mother:-- "Dear Sam,--I am in prison for debt; come and assist your loving mother, E. Foote." His answer was almost as brief, certainly as pathetic:-- "Dear Mother,--So am I, which prevents his duty being paid to his loving mother by her affectionate son. Sam Foote." "P.S.--I have sent my attorney to assist you; in the meantime let us hope for better days."