MY DEAR THOMSON,--It's a maist remarkable fac', but nae shuener had I written yon braggin', blawin' letter aboot ma business habits, when bang! that very day, ma hoast[10] begude in the aifternune. It is really remaurkable; it's providenshle, I believe. The ink wasnae fair dry, the words werenae weel ooten ma mouth, when bang, I got the lee. The mair ye think o't, Thomson, the less ye'll like the looks o't. Proavidence (I'm no' sayin') is all verra weel _in its place_; but if Proavidence has nae mainners, wha's to learn't? Proavidence is a fine thing, but hoo would you like Proavidence to keep your till for ye? The richt place for Proavidence is in the kirk; it has naething to do wi' private correspondence between twa gentlemen, nor freendly cracks, nor a wee bit word of sculduddery[11] ahint the door, nor, in shoart, wi' ony _hole-and-corner wark_, what I would call. I'm pairfec'ly willin' to meet in wi' Proavidence, I'll be prood to meet in wi' him, when my time's come and I cannae dae nae better; but if he's to come skulking aboot my stair-fit, damned, I micht as weel be deid for a' the comfort I'll can get in life. Cannae he no be made to understand that it's beneath him? Gosh, if I was in his business, I wouldnae steir my heid for a plain, auld ex-elder that, tak him the way he taks himsel', 's just aboot as honest as he can weel afford, an' but for a wheen auld scandals, near forgotten noo, is a pairfec'ly respectable and thoroughly decent man. Or if I fashed wi' him ava', it wad be kind o' handsome like; a pun'-note under his stair door, or a bottle o' auld, blended malt to his bit marnin', as a teshtymonial like yon ye ken sae weel aboot, but mair successfu'. Dear Thomson, have I ony money? If I have, _send it_, for the loard's sake. JOHNSTONE. TO W. E. HENLEY _Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, Nov. 13, 1884._ MY DEAR BOY,--A thousand thanks for the _Moliere_. I have already read, in this noble presentment, _La Comtesse d'Escarbaguas_, _Le Malade Imaginaire_, and a part of _Les Femmes Savantes_; I say, Poquelin took damned good care of himself: Argan and Arysule, what parts! Many thanks also for John Silver's pistol; I recognise it; that was the one he gave Jim Hawkins at the mouth of the pit; I shall get a plate put upon it to that effect.