Letter to Lottie Doyle (1888)
Just a wee wee scribble, dearest, to wish you all the happiness which you deserve which amounts to about a hundred tons, forty six pounds, three perches, one furlong and fifteen cubic inches, and would take the Atlantic Cable to carry over to you and pile it up at your door in great heaps which would stop the traffic. Let me pause for breath after that effort. Mrs Hawkins sits in the armchair on the right looking at me through her barnacles, and she remarks that from the extraordinary and probably unexampled idiocy of my profile I am writing some foolery, wherein she makes as you perceive a great error. But let us be grave. Let us discuss the perigravity of the perihelion of the... but I can't get on because Toodles is bending over me and muttering in my lug, with her little frizzy topknot stuck in between and...