William Hone to Alice Hone [daughter], 30 November, 1840

1.1.1.

I write you a line to tell you that though my handwriting appears to have been fast, it was really very slowly executed. I have begun wrong — I mean this letter is begun wrong. It ought to have ended with what I have said. I should have written, at first, my dear child, I very much love you, and there my letter might have closed. For I have thought so for such a length of time, that I am filled with the feeling of simple affection, and the pure sentiment comes out all at once; and in reality little more than my love can be found to talk of on paper. It is love for you which causes me to add I have read all your letters to Mother and Ellen, and have said, after getting to the end of each, "Poor Child!" For each was dolorous, and expressive of anxiety for time to elapse, that you might see us again. And how fast it has rolled on! If God permit, in less than three weeks we shall meet again; and you will let us know how you come, at what time punctually, and to what spot in London. Your mother or Ellen will meet you, if you are very particular in your statement, and conduct you hither.

Our dwelling is a little tot of a house— The room I write in is where my books are, and is our living room. It is about 7 feet wide by 10 feet long with one window in it, and looks down on our garden which is about 14 feet wide, and fifty feet long, with some Kale and broccole plants in it and room for more. There are no trees in it for birds, except a young sycamore which is only a tree-ling, at one side. On the other side is our wash house up which, and over the low roof, runs a vine which branches over our living-parlour window. At the side of our house a hedge, parts us from a bit of land, set with mangel-wurzel, and beyond that at the side are the gardens of Bruce Castle and School with timber trees, now "barren as [of?] leaves," but which in summer become a harbour for birds. This is our view to the rear, which is to the South. Over our living room is Ellen's Bedroom with the same view. Your mother's is in front, to the North, with our front Parlour below it. Above all is one room filled with lumber, boxes, &c. The North view is over a market gardener's ground.

Such is your house. Our provision for living affords us a short [one word][?], but we thank God have enough and are contented.

And now, my dear child, y [torn][?] letter from me. Probably it is the last I may address t[torn][?] but, as you may address us, I send you some stamps to prevent your letters costing 2d. Study to be concise in writing—words that mean.

The lady who called on you, was Mrs Woollaston, wife of a gentleman here, a surgeon, & a friend. She has told us of her interviews with you.

You must give us timely notice of your coming. "Oh, Yes!"—Doubt not of the love of all of us.