Hazleknowe, Dec. 25, 1834.
Dear Simeon,—I have been again pestered by that
half-daft wandering minstrel who lately sung about the
‘Airn Juk o' W---.’ I wish I could get quit of him;
but no—I am doomed to be crossed in my path by him at
every turn. I have told him again and again, that I do
not understand his nonsense; but still he comes and
bothers me with his blethers. I told him I would put him
in print; but that only excited his vanity the more. For
any sake, do put him in print, with all his imperfections on
his head, and shame the blockhead from ryhming any
more. Show him up in the Liberator.
Yours,
Andrew Whaup.
