University of Virginia Library


83

Page 83

CORRESPONDENCE.

We shall give the following letter and its answer;
for although they are hardly worth printing,
they may perhaps serve as an encouragement to
such letter-writers as have never ventured out of
the Sunday papers, or the Globe.

Mr. Timon:

Dear Sir,—I wish you would send me, soon as
convenient, the card of your friend Tophanes. I
think he must be a `stick;' and I rather imagine
he can give me the right sort of advice. For you
must know that I've been hanging on the town
nearly the whole winter, and yet the d—l of an
invitation have I got.

Mind you, I don't act hurriedly in this matter.
I want you to know that I've done all that a man
could be reasonably expected to do. In the first
place, I've paid Martell a bill of some $10 12½; I
have cultivated what I consider one of the prettiest
moustaches afloat; I have worn out nearly three
dozen of Alexander's best kids at the Opera, concerts,
at Grace Church, and on Broadway. I have
even stepped into Crowen's several times to subscribe
to De Trobriand's Revue—but confound it, I
can't read French. I get my breeches cut at Derby's,


84

Page 84
and have sent a bouquet to Madame P—;
besides, I've written a sonnet to one of the most
fashionable ladies of the town, for the Day-Book
(the Home Journal wouldn't print it), and sent her
a copy.

My name is on the books at the New York Club,
and I've got all the tittle-tattle of the day at my
tongue's end; I don't wear a scratch, and as for
the polka, I've been taking lessons all winter. It
wouldn't be of so much importance, if these accomplishments
had not given me rather a bad name down
town; there's no hope of a law office, and my application
the other day for a clerkship in a Broadway
store was sneezed at. Couldn't Tophanes
help me out?

Very confidentially,

Tim. Green.
N. B.—They take in my letters at the New
York Club.
P. S.—I forgot to tell you that I carry a cane,
and part my hair behind.

REPLY.

Tophanes' compliments to Mr. Green, and would
recommend to Mr. Green, Mr. Browne.


85

Page 85

With this, my dear Fritz, I leave you to your
quiet country avocations, until the mail of another
week shall light up your solitude with a glowing
No. V.

Timon.

Blank Page

Page Blank Page

Blank Page

Page Blank Page

Blank Page

Page Blank Page