the desperate extent of having my head shaved—my courage failed when it came to that last and desperate remedy; but I have done what is nearly as bad, I have had my hair cut short to curl. Truly after having been so little accustomed to any trouble, with only bands that were smoothed in a moment, I had not calculated on the martyrdom of curls. I used to be indifferent to damp-days—defied wind and rain. Now, I look to change of weather like a farmer or a sailor, and have the exclamation 'dear, what a bad day it is for the hair!' perpetually on my lips. So your caps are not only beautiful, but useful." . . . .
"Did I live within walking distance, had I a carriage of my own, or a fairy for a god-mother, who would kindly turn a pumpkin and lizards into coach and horses, or had I Prince Huissein's carpet, I should, before this, have paid you a visit—however, there being no truth in old proverbs, especially the one which says, 'where there's a will there's a way,' I must content myself with a few lines. After finishing any work, I have always a little mental interregnum, and feel as if I had not an idea left in the world—it takes me some time to make up my mind what I shall do next. Amid so many projects as I always have floating in the future, it is no easy task to fix on what shall be the next; however, pray tellI am not yet come to my treatise on moral philosophy. I beg to state that we had an apple-pie for dinner to-day, my last and only unsophisticated taste. You had beautiful weather for your Oxford excursion; pray, was notgreatly delighted with all the old halls and towers? I should think that the autumn foliage would have a beautiful effect in the Christ-church meadows, which, by-the-by, were overflowed when I was there." * * *
