become a prosperous man in America. I write for the magazines and report for the Pilot, drill the Irish Legion, make speeches at public meetings, lecture for charities, etc., etc. This course in the old countries would soon make a fortune: and, after a time, here it will have the same offect; but, at present, all this must be done to establish a reputation. I just manage to live as a gentleman. I have paid my debts to the captains who brought me here. In a few years it will be my own fault if I do not make a name worth bearing.

And how are all my friends in Preston? . . . . I am glad you liked Mr. Bursley. He is a noble fellow. He knew who I was from the first day I went on the ship . . . . Send on your pictures, Aunt, dear, I'm eager to see you all again.

Tell me all about the Preston people whom I knew. I will order some cartes to-day. I don't like the style of the present ones—they will do for people I don't care about . . . . I am proud of Willy. He will be a fine fellow—a prosperous, able man, I know, whenever I see him again. Does Uncle James go to sea yet? It's time he gave up; he has lots of money made now. And do you sit down quietly and rest yourself? or do you still go on with the old, old toil? Now, Aunt, you must write me long, very long letters. A lady correspondent of your ability and taste is invaluable to a literary man. Now, don't laugh—I'm in earnest. Write often. I'll send you some papers. I lecture to-night in a city called Quincy, near Boston. I have four lectures this week. I inclose a ticket for one. I wish I could see you there. Goodby, dear Aunt, Uncle, and Willy. I am, always. ⁠Truly yours,
⁠J. Boyle O'Reilly.