honnerd sur—i got six capitol gees a bargin, but am verry dubbius weather they possess the propperty that ort to make them wakful and weary of nites. the old specious may be lost. the roman gees you menshun wood certinly hav nevver sufferd themselves to be stolen without a cakeling, as our hone did too nites ago. as for the wotch dogs, to be candied, they were all errors in gudgment. there was to much bul in the bread. the verry fust nite they were let lose they flew in a rag, and began to vent their caning propensities on each other’s curcases. i regret
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to say too was wurrid to deth before the next mourning, and the rest were so full of bad bits and ingeries in there vitties they were obligated to be kild. in shutting seazer with the blunderbush, i lament to ad it hung fire, and in liftin it up it went off of its hone hed and shot the bucher’s horse at the gait, and he has thretind to tak the law if he isn’t made good, as he was verry vallyble.
honnerd sur—accordin to orders i tuck johnson the suspishus man evvery nite to the gorge, and told him to caul for wat he likt, witch was allways an ot suppir and punch. as yet he as diskivered nothin but sum lov nonsins about a deary-made, so that its uncertin weather he is a dillygate or not; but i shood say a desinin won, for by sum artful meens he allways manniged to make me drunk fust, and gennerally lent a hand to carry me home. i told the landlord to let him have aney thing he wantid and yure honner wood pay the skore, but i think it was unprudent of mr. tapper to let him run up to ten pound. but it isn’t all drink, but eating as well—johnson has a very glutinous appetit, and always stix to the tabel as long as there is meet.
honnerd sur—last fridy morning there was grate riotism and sines of the populus risin, and accordin i lost no time in berryin the plait as derected by yure ordirs. i am gratifid to say the disturbans turned out onely a puggleistical fit; but owen to our hurry and allarm, the spot ware the plait was berrid went out of our heads. we have since dug up the hole srubbery, but without turnin up anny thing in its shape. but it cant be lost, tho’ it isnt to be found. the gardner swares the srubs will all di from being transplanted at unpropper sesin—but i trust it is onely his old grumblin stile witch he cannot git over.
honnerd sur—the wust is to cum. in casis of fire the trooth is shure to brake out suner or latter, so i may as well cum to the catstrophy without any varnish on my tail. this morning according to yure order, i hignitted the littel faggit stak, fust
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takin the precawshuny meshure of drawin up a line of men with buckits, from the dux-pond to the sene of combusting. nothin can lay therefor on my sholders: it all riz from the men strikin for bear, wen they ort to hav bean handin warter to won another. i felt my deuty to argy the pint, which i trust will be apruved, and wile we were cussin and discussin the fire got a hed that defide all our unitted pours to subdo. to confess the fax, the fire inguns ware all lokt up in a stabble with a shy key that had lost itself the day before, and was not to be had wen we wantid to lay hands on it. not that we could have wurkd the inguns if they had faverd with their presens, for want of hands. evvery boddy had run so offen at the allarm bell that they got noboddy to go in there steed. it was an hawful site; the devowring ellemint swallerd won thing after another as sune as cotched, and rushed along roring with friteful violins. were the finger of providins is the hand as does we must not arrange it, but as the him says, “we must submit and humbel bee.” heavin direx the winds, and not us. as it blue towards the sow the piggry sune cotchd, and that cotchd the foul housis, and then the barn cotchd with all the straw, and the granery cotchd also, witch it wood not have dun if we had puld down the hay stax that stud between. that was all the cotching excep the hay stax, from jenkins runnin about with a flaimin tale to his smoak frock. at last, by a blessin, when there was no moor to burn it was got under and squentched itself, prays be given without loss of lif or lim. another comfit is all bein inshured in the sun, enuff to kiver it; and i shud hop they will not refus to make gud on the ground that it was dun wilful by our hone ax and deeds. but fire officis are sumtimes verry unlibberal, and will ketch hold of a burning straw, and if fax were put on their oths i couldn’t deni a bundil of rags, matchis, candel ends, and other combustibils pokt into the faggits, and then litin up with my hone hand. tim will sho. in the meenwhile i am consienshusly
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easy, it was dun for the best, though turned out for the wust, and am gratified to reflect that i hav omitted nothin, but have scruppleusly fulfild evvery particler of yure honner’s instruxions, and in hop of approval of the saim, await the faver of furthir commands, and am,
honnerd sur jacob,
your humbel, faithful, and obedient servint,
roger davis.