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That's what 'em pens, but I don't jin if it's tacho or nettus. And yeckorus there was a werry wafro mush that was allers a-kairin' wafri covvabens. An' yeck divvus he dicked a sap in the wesh, an' he prastered paller it with a bori churi adree lester waster and chinned her sherro apre. An' then he rakkered to his kokerus, "Now that I've mored the sap, I'll lel the jivaben of my wenomest enemy."
However, I had sealed it up in an envelope. Now comes the real surprize, dear Dairy. For the usher came down and said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the act was over. I think a paller must have come over me, and Jane said: "Bab! Do you dare?" I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water. I seemed to be thirsty all the time.
I must see the play again, and judge it with a criticle eye. JANUARY 16TH. Is it only a day since I saw you, Dear Dairy? Can so much have happened in the single lapse of a few hours? I look in my mirror, and I look much as before, only with perhaps a touch of paller. Who would not be pale? I have seen HIM again, and there is no longer any doubt in my heart. But things ARE as they are.
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