LETTER TEN.
London,
March 1st, 1839.
My Dear Sister,
We received your last parcel on Sunday, and were very much rejoiced to learn that father and mother were then both better.
I am rather unwell, and unable to stick to my work as closely as I ought to do. The consequence of which, together with having to lose time for other purposes, is that I do not earn more than it just takes to keep us. This week I shall not earn sufficient. I have had a slight cough ever since I have been in London, which comes upon me chiefly at night, and is worse now than it ever has been. I also have a kind of soreness and stiffness at my chest, and can get no comfortable sleep. I verily believe I have not had
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