A cheerful fire blazed in his garret, and Mrs. Snooks had prepared
for him the favourite blade-bone he loved (blest four-days' dinner
for a bachelor--roast, cold, hashed, grilled bladebone, the fourth
being better than the first); but although he usually did rejoice in
this meal--ordinarily, indeed, grumbling that there was not enough
to satisfy him--he, on this occasion, after two mouthfuls, flung
down his knife and fork, and buried his two claws in his hair.

"Snooks," said he at last, very moodily, "remove this d---- mutton,
give me my writing things, and some hot brandy-and-water."

This was done without much alarm: for you must know that Perkins
used to dabble in poetry, and ordinarily prepare himself for
composition by this kind of stimulus.

He wrote hastily a few lines.

"Snooks, put on your bonnet," said he, "and carry this--YOU KNOW
WHERE!" he added, in a hollow, heart-breaking tone of voice, that
affected poor Snooks almost to tears. She went, however, with the
note, which was to this purpose:--

"Lucy! Lucy! my soul's love--what, what has happened? I am writing
this"--(a gulp of brandy-and-water)--"in a state bordering on
distraction--madness--insanity"(another). "Why did you send me out
of the coach in that cruel cruel way? Write to me a word, a line--
tell me, tell me, I may come to you--and leave me not in this
agonising condition; your faithful"(glog--glog--glog--the whole
glass)--