MancJicster Memoirs, Vol. xlv. (1901), No. 8. 55 



LiverpooL On July 22nd he writes again, in reference to 

 some commercial misfortune which Philips has suffered 

 in his American enterprise ; and Cable, by way of comfort, 

 gives Tim Bobbin's famous dictum — " Nowt that's owt con 

 cum out when a mon has to do wie rascally Fowk." On 

 August 1 6th he writes to ask if Mrs. Philips will get two 

 white ostrich feathers for Sarah, who is going to a dance; 

 they are to be a surprise for the yonng lady ; the price, he 

 believes, will be from ten to fifteen shillings. The subse- 

 quent letter, written on October 27th, is rather amusing. 

 Mrs. Philips was evidently horrified at the idea of feathers 

 at that price, for Cable says : — 



Sarah is much pleased with the feathers and both she and I are much 

 obliged to Mrs Philips for the pains & trouble she has been about them. I 

 have been perplexed, sometimes, since I first wrote about them for fear I 

 should have tied Mrs Philips down by mentioning the price I did, which was 

 entirely through mistake. I thought the price of these articles were like a 

 sixpenny loaf, and I was sadly disappointed one day when I learnt by some- 

 thing that Sarah said that there were Ostrich feathers as high as two Guineas 

 or more. It is very fortunate that Mrs Philips knew what was proper for 

 I look upon shabby finery as one of the most ridiculous things in the world. 



On October 14th, 1802, Cable writes: — 



Upon the whole I think I am rather better than I have been, but am 

 still far, very far, from being well, and the approach of winter affords me 

 but a dreary prospect. If I cou'd continue to get a few degrees further to 

 the southward I fancy I .shou'd find benefit from it, but this cannot be, the 

 season is too far advanc'd to think of a removal, and there are many other 

 obstacles in the way. I continue to use exercise on Horseback, which with 

 small doses of calomel & moderate good diet, I hope will enable me to 

 weather the Winter. 



From your long silence I am pretty certain you have been from home, 

 and I am afraid you have found out some watering Place which you like 

 better than the Isle of Man. If that is the case I shall not remain long here, 

 for independent of the pleasure I received from seeing you here a few times, 

 and the constant expectation of seeing you oftener, I do not know that I 

 have one inducement to stay here. The society is of the ver}- worst kind, 

 and every necessary of life is almost as dear as it is with you, ^v Ijy no means 

 to compare with your provisions in goodness. But was I to leave the Isle of 

 Man I certainly shou'd not think of fixing in a country so overrun with 

 Cotton Manufactory as yours is — I would endeavour to find some pleasant 



