what you are coming to. By the way, I've got somewhere two letters written by two young ladies, one in 1517, and the other in 1868. The contrast between the two will amuse you, I think."
After a little search, grandma produced an old portfolio, and selecting the papers, read the following letter, written by Anne Boleyn before her marriage to Henry VIII., and now in the possession of a celebrated antiquarian:—
Dear Mary:
I have been in town almost a month, yet I cannot say I have found anything in London extremely agreeable. We rise so late in the morning,—seldom before six o'clock,—and sit up so late at night,—being scarcely in bed before ten,—that I am quite sick of it; and was it not for the abundance of fine things I am every day getting, I should be impatient of returning into the country.
My indulgent mother bought me, yesterday, at a merchant's in Cheapside, three new shifts, that cost fourteen pence an ell, and I am to have a pair of new stuff shoes, for my Lord of Norfolk's ball, which will be three shillings.
The irregular life I have led since my coming to this place has quite destroyed my appetite. You know I could manage a pound of bacon and a tankard of good ale for my breakfast, in the country, but in London I find it difficult to get through half the quantity, though I must own I am generally eager enough for the dinner hour, which is here delayed till twelve, in your polite society.
