Dear Maggie,—I found that the friend,
that the little girl asked me to write to,
lived at Ripon, and not at Land’s End—
a nice sort of place to invite to!
It looked rather suspicious to me—
and soon after, by dint of incessant
inquiries, I found out that she
was called Maggie, and lived in a Crescent!
Of course I declared, “After that”
(the language I used doesn’t matter),
“I will not address her, that’s flat!
So do not expect me to flatter.”
Well, I hope you will soon see
your beloved Pa come back—
for consider, should you be
quite content with only Jack?
Just suppose they made a blunder!
(Such things happen now and then.)
Really, now, I shouldn’t wonder
if your “John” came home again,
and your father stayed at school!
A most awkward thing, no doubt.
How would you receive him? You’ll
say, perhaps, “you’d turn him out.”
That would answer well, so far
as concerns the boy, you know—
but consider your Papa,
learning lessons in a row
of great inky schoolboys! This
(though unlikely) might occur:
“Haly” would be grieved to miss
him (don’t mention it to her).
No carte has yet been done of me,
that does real justice to my smile;
and so I hardly like, you see,
to send you one. However, I’ll
consider if I will or not—
meanwhile, I send a little thing
to give you an idea of what
I look like when I’m lecturing.
The merest sketch, you will allow—
yet still I think there’s something grand
in the expression of the brow
and in the action of the hand.
Have you read my fairy tale
in Aunt Judy’s Magazine?
If you have you will not fail
to discover what I mean
when I say “Bruno yesterday came
to remind me that he was my god-son!”—
on the ground that I “gave him a name”!
Your affectionate friend, C. L. Dodgson.
P.S.—I would send, if I were not too shy,
the same message to “Haly” that she
(though I do not deserve it, not I!)
has sent through her sister to me.
My best love to yourself—to your Mother
my kindest regards—to your small,
fat, impertinent, ignorant brother
my hatred. I think that is all.