honnerd sur, i beg to kondole as becums on yure missin yure seat. it must have bean the suddinest of shox, & jest wen goin to sit after standin for the hole county, on yure hone futt
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ing, at your sole expens. but i do hop and trust it will not be yure dissolushun, as sum report; i do hop it is onely an emty rummer pict up at sum publick hous. at such an encindery crisus our wust frend wood be general elixion, by stirrin up inflametory peple, particly if there was a long pole. you see, sir jacob, i konker in evvery sentashus sentemint in yure respected letter. the volkano you menshun i can enter into. theres a great deal of combustibul sperits in the country that onely wants a spark to convart them into catarax:—and i greave to say evvery inflammetory little demy gog is nust, and has the caudle support of certin pappers. im alludin to the press. from this sort of countenins the nashunal aspec gits moor friteful evvery day. i see no prospex for the next gennerashun but rocking and swinging. i hav had a grate menny
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low thorts, for wat can be moor dispiritin then the loss of our two gratest publick housis! there is nothin cumfortable. there is a vesuvus under our feat, and evvery step brings us nearer to its brinks. evvery reflective man must say we are a virgin on a precipus.
honnerd sur! in the mean tim i hav pade atenshuns to yure letter, and studid its epistlery derecshuns, witch i hav made meself very particler in fulfiling to the utmost xtent. if the most zellus effuts have not sucksedid to wish i humbly beg to blame but wat is dew may fall on me, and hope other peples shears will visit their hone heds. the axident with the spring gun was no neglex of mine. after barnes settin it himself, his tumblin over the wier must be lade to his hone dore along with his shot legs. i sent for two surgings to sea to him, and they cauld in too moor, so that he is certin of a good dressin, but he was very down-harted about gitting a livin, till i tolled him yure honner wood settle on him for the rest of his days. i may say the lik of the other axident to sanders and sam, who got badly woundid wile wotchin the stax, by apprehendin won another after a sanguine conflic by mistake for incinderies. i have promist in yure honners nam to reword them boath hansumly for their vigilings, but they stedfistly refus to padrol anny moor after dusk, tho they ar agreble by daylit, which leavs me at my whits ends for firegards, as strange men wood not be trusswurthy.
honnered sur—i am sorry i cood not git the mad servents to set up for theaves, even for wun nite runnin. i tried the currier on them, but it didn’t wurk on there minds; they tuck lites in their hands and waukd to there pillers as if they hadn’t a car on there heds, and wen i insistid on their allarmin me they all give me warnin. as for the swetharts there’s a duzzen domesticatted luvers in the kitchen, and i’m sorry to say i can’t give them all a rowt. i ketchd the cook’s bo gettin in at a winder, and sercht his pockets for feer of fosfrus, but he contaned
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nothin xcept a cruckid sixpens, a taler’s thimbel, and a tin backy-box, with a lock of hare witch did not match with cook’s. it is dangerus wurk. becus i luck after the mades candels they tie strings to the banesters to ketch my fut, and i have twice pitcht from the hed to the futt of the stars. i am riting with my forrid brandid and brown pepperd, and my rite hand in a poltus from gropping in the dark for cumbustibils in the cole seller, and diskivering nothin but the torturous kat and her kittings.