There is nothing so annoying as being obliged to write letters when
you do not feel inclined. It is a great art, this letter writing, and
very few possess it. People often think they do, and they write for
writing's sake; but these letters are most wearying to read. Between
every line you seem to see the words, "Is not this a charming letter?"
and in reality you are so bored it is all you can do to reach the end.
Then those dreadful persons who "cross and recross" their epistles in
every direction! Paper is not so dear but that they could at least
afford a fly-leaf. They defeat their own ends, too, for their letters
are never legible, and they have to write again to explain their
meaning, thus paying another penny away in postage.

Why do we not make a stand against the old forms? Why should we always
tread in the footmarks of our ancestors, instead of making tracks of
our own? "Dear Mr. So-and-So," we write to a man almost a stranger to
us. Imagine his surprise if we addressed him so to his face! And we
end in just such a foolish and unreasonable way, "Yours obediently,
faithfully, truly!" Where is the sense? Your signature should be quite
enough. You have to be so careful, too, in saying whether you are
obedient, faithful, or affectionate to your correspondent. If you end
too warmly, by mistake, the whole letter has to be written again. It
is not a thing you can scratch out or correct. It would look so very
bad.

People have different ideas of "Christmasing." Some prefer to adopt an
unsteady gait, and to spend the night in a ditch or a police-station;
some have a taste for family parties; some like it better by
themselves, and some go right away and spend the time at a different
place every year. These last are, I think, by far the most sensible.