TO PETER GEORGE PATMORE. LONDRES, _Julie_ 19_th_, 1827
Dear P., -- I am so poorly. I have been to a funeral, where I made a pun, to the consternation of the rest of the mourners. And we had wine. I can't describe to you the howl which the widow set up at proper intervals. Dash [1] could; for it was not unlike what he makes.
The letter I sent you was one directed to the care of Edward White, India House, for Mrs. Hazlitt. _Which_ Mrs. H. I don't yet know; but Allsop has taken it to France on speculation. Really it is embarrassing. There is Mrs. present H., Mrs. late H., and Mrs. John H.; and to which of the three Mrs. Wigginses it appertains, I know not. I wanted to open it, but 'tis transportation.
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