Well, B., and after that, I am sorry to say when it got to hold up for a minuet again, the Bows, which I thought had been a carrion the Shimpain and the vitals to the ladies, shewed by their conduct that they had only got the things in the names of the fair sects, and as Fulmer said had added to the frauds of the neutral flags, by taking to themselves, under false pretences, what was shipped for other people--they was quite inhebriated, and played very improper pranks--Fulmer said, that he himself saw one lady play _Merry tricks_, but if so, I dare say she'll try _new tricks_ before she comes there again--however, the conduct of the men was quite obstropolous, and one of them spoke to my seckond as if he had been introdeuced, and when he asked her name, and she said Ramsbottom, he behaved more imperently than he had done before, and said that he had noed us all long ago. I'm sure he never noed me, nor none of my daughters, and so I told him, and I begged Mr. Fulmer to find out the Secrethairy, Mr. Sabine, to come and speak to the imperent poppy; but Fulmer told me that we had better go away as fast as we could, for that when men were in _that_ state none of the Sabines would be safe; so of course I would not go to hinger a respectable family, and we got over our uncles to the gate, where we found our servant Jenkins in the custardy of the offisers, for nocking down a beetle belonging to the gardner, which would not let him poke his knows in to look for us. So Fulmer did, (what, considering the weather, was quite necessary,) gave his curd to the pelisseman, and baled out the footman. But I must say a Jew, and I cannot help thinkin how surprized Fulmer will be when he sees your pepper in the mornun. Lavy has been in bed ever since the Feet; our cousin Kate has got a swelled face; the Hauls have both got bad coughs, and Mounsheer and his wife have been takin teasannes every nite and morning; however, I hope we shall soon get about, and if what I have saved out of the phier is of any use, you are welkum.--Yours, dear B., always, DOROTHEA L. RAMSBOTTOM. XXV. A LETTER FROM WALMER TO JOHN BULL. Warmer, near Deal, Oct. 13, 1829. MY DEAR B.,--I only right you a short Billy do, to tell you we are all combing to the Mephistophiles on Twosday. Some of us travails by the Dover onion, an uncommon good stag, and Lavy and her spouse in their broach. What I have cheefly to say is, that I have been purveiled upon to publish my Original Letters to you in a serious--Fulmer is kind enuff to say he will do notes to them, and write a biggraphical scratch of my life, and have my head in a plate for a fruntispece--I beleive I am to be lithotomized, which is cheaper than copper. You have my premishon to hannounce my work, which I should like to call the Book of the Breakfast Parlor, but Fulmer thinks the "Ramsbottom Papers" better. Yours ever, D. L. RAMSBOTTOM.