DEAR Gutch, Anderson is not come home, and I am almost afraid to tell you what has happen’d, lest it should seem to have happend by my fault in not writing for you home sooner.—
This morning Henry, the eldest lad, was missing. We supposed he was only gone out on a morning’s stroll, and that he would return, but he did not return & we discovered that he had opened your desk before he went, & I suppose taken all the money he could find, for on diligent search I could find none, and on opening your Letter to Anderson, which I thought necessary to get at the key, I learn that you had a good deal of money there.
Several people have been here after you to-day, & the boys seem quite frightened, and do not know what to do. In particular, one gentleman wants to have some writings finished by Tuesday—For God’s sake set out by the first coach. Mary has been crying all day about it, and I am now just going to some law stationer in the neighbourhood, that the eldest boy has recommended, to get him to come and be in the house for a day or so, to manage. I cannot think what detains Anderson. His sister is quite frightend about him. I am very sorry I did not write yesterday, but Henry persuaded me to wait till he could ascertain when some job must be done (at the furthest) for Mr. Foulkes, and as nothing had occurrd besides I did not like to disturb your pleasures. I now see my error, and shall be heartily ashamed to see you.
[That is as far as the letter goes on the first page. We then turn over, and find (as Gutch, to his immense relief, found before us) written right across both pages:]
A Bite!!!
Anderson is come home, and the wheels of thy business are going on as ever. The boy is honest, and I am thy friend.
And how does the coach-maker’s daughter? Thou art her Phaeton, her Gig, and her Sociable. Commend me to Rob.
