i am sory to say, in anser to yure lofeing letter, that we are all like to want bred, for i have gained my law sute quite sattisfactury, witch it greves me the more that hou tell me the rufe of the cottige is tumbled in for the lawyers say it is now mine for me and my hares for ever witch i fere you have all got wet skins, but it is a comfurt i follered my sute, so you shall here the upshot of my downfal witch is this—arter the big wig in the big hall had givd it aginst me my lawyers sed if i had any money left i shud vindickit the law and stand up for my famley and my rites so with no more seremony sais he ile cary it afore the lords—so arter a long time it cum to my turn afore all the parlyment howse—thinks i wen the nobs ears it all the hares of there heds will stand on end; so i went to the great place were all the lords, as i thote, was all awating for me, wen dash me if there was but too fat old fellers aslepe—(i thote i shud see 2 dosin,) and the same judg as eard about it afore—blest if i arnt done thinks i—so wen my countsillers got up and told it agen he nodded his hed evry now and then, seemmily to say its all rite, for my part i cudnt elp crien wen i herd ow ill ide been used: but eather becos he had a bigger wig on than afore or becos he was aslepe like the others, he givd it all on my side this time, so my lawyers sed i was a lucky feller and they wanted sum more mony from me, but as i ad no more to give em they put me in this plase its calld the Fleet tho its not a ship board tho they say its very much among the knavey. But now ime in for it and can't get out unles i can melt the arts of the lawyers, witch they say is verry ard, xcept by the solvent act. Won cumfort heres plenty of gude satiety, moastly jentilmen, and non so bad off as begars and balot singers tho they seem in a staite of universle sufferige. Dere Molly, if the wals is tumbil'd down its no use to mind your rexpextabilaty, but think of leafing in the spring for i fere it will be too hairy for the heds of the children witch they have always been used to a thatch, and sel the stiks and send me the munny if its ever so little its ofe yure mind, as i say to miself wen i lye awak a nites for i cant get no slepe for thinking of yew and the piggs, witch i wish we wos all in the churchyard for its verry cold and ive no fire witch is grately dettrementil to my rest. Ive jist eard of a fine plase cauld the Swan, were i shal hop to get wen i cum out, were theres no law nor lawyers nor cottiges nor law-sutes nor no nothin but jist the world afore us to do as we like, and if there's rume ile send for yew and the children arter. So no moar your affeckshinate husban, JILES JOGGINS. [Illustration: An Appeal Case. Cold, without. ] [Illustration: "Who are you?" Rumi-nation. ] [Illustration: "The Master's Report." A _Tail_ of a Chancery Suit. ] FEBRUARY.—CUTTING WEATHER.