72 THE LIFE OF RICHARD JEFFERIES 



' I cannot go home. I would sooner starve. I can 

 only go home when I am independent. 



' I could sell these little things, but that money would 

 soon go ; besides, it would be very wretched to lose them, 

 for some I value dearly. . . . 



' What I want is a bed and to live with 5^ou. I can 

 write anywhere. . . . 



' If you would send a telegram, I should be obliged. 



' I own I much hope you will grant my request, not 

 only because it is my last resource, but because in many 

 things we have a community of ideas and sentiments, 

 and I should enjoy a few weeks with you. I believe 3^ou 

 could assist me very materially in several of my plans 

 with your experience and knowledge of the world. And 

 I think that I could amuse you with an account of a few 

 things I have come across in the last few weeks. . . . 



' You remember, perhaps, my once asking you to be- 

 come a subscriber to a novel I wished to publish. You 

 agreed, but said that you thought people would much 

 sooner subscribe or buy a copy of my *' History of Swin- 

 don," if it was made larger and published as a book. I 

 said nothing, but at once dropped the idea of a novel, 

 and went to work collecting material. I got a whole box 

 full of papers and old deeds, and wrote out a book in 

 manuscript. I had it estimated, and even had 500 cir- 

 culars printed to advertise. This is the only manuscript 

 I have by me, but I feel little doubt I shall soon be able 

 to work my way up again.' 



A few days later he was with Mr. Woolford. He regrets 

 leaving Sydenham, because at Coate he and his family 

 are ' so distant and unsocial.' He is afraid of his father's 

 displeasure ; but his mother has dropped in and met him 

 at Snodshill. So he writes to his aunt. He has only 

 two shillings and threepence, and must pawn his watch- 

 chain. Squire Sadler at Purton has promised him an 

 introduction to the Times, but he cannot go over for want 

 of money. He is thoroughly discontented now. ' I 



