To MRS. R. BUTLER.
EDGEWORTHSTOWN, June 17, 1842.
It is now five o'clock, and Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall have not come. It is
Lestock's last day, and he and Fanny and Lucy are so busy and so happy
putting the transit instrument to rights, and setting black spotted and
yellow backed spinning spiders at work to spin for the meridian lines. I
have just succeeded in catching the right sort by descending to the
infernal regions, and setting kitchenmaid and housemaid at work. I was
glad Mr. and Mrs. Hall did not arrive just at the crisis of the
operation—all completed now.
Ask Mr. Butler if there is any subscription necessary or expected from
me, now that I have been so honourably made an honorary member of the
Royal Irish Academy? I would not for the world omit anything that ought
to be done now that I am M.R.I.A.
July 8.
I am going literally to beg my bread and lodging at your door on my way
to Dublin, and I do so sans phrase. I remember that, when I used to
write to offer myself to Aunt Ruxton, I regularly added, "You know, my
dear aunt, I can sleep in a drawer;" and she used to answer, "I know you
can, my dear, and you are welcome; but write a day beforehand, that I
may have the drawer ready."