sounds; {1e} yet this only gives you a faint idea of the beauteous
creature whose fortunes we shall follow in our next number. {1f}

I have given that style a fair trial, my dear darling, but I cannot
stand it another minute, not being familiar with the language of what
our cook used to call the 'fuddal aristocracy' (feudal, you know).

I, your faithful Polly, am seated in the card-room, writing with a
dreadful pen which Phil gave me yesterday. Its internal organs are
filled with ink, which it disgorges when PRESSED to do so, but just
now it is 'too full for utterance,' as you will see by the blots.

We have decided not to make this a real round-robin letter, like the
last, because we want to write what we like, and not have it read by
the person who comes next.

I have been badgered to death over my part of the communication sent
to you last week, for the young persons connected with this camp have
a faculty of making mountains out of mole-hills, as you know, and I
have to suffer for every careless little speech. However, as we
didn't wish to bore you with six duplicate letters, we invented a
plan for keeping off each other's ground, and appointed Geoff a
committee of one to settle our line of march. It is to be a
collective letter, made up of individual notes; and these are Geoff's
sealed orders, which must be obeyed, on pain of dismissal from the
camp:

No. 1 (Polly) is to amuse!
No. 2 (Phil) ... inform!
No. 3 (Geoff) ... edify!!