11th February 1826 

A SURPRISING DELIVERY!

Papa has received, subsequent to his correspondence with the Hon. Smidgeon-Jones, an unexpected delivery of prospectuses and hats from the General and North East London Elastic Ventilating Hat Company. Pa was very much surprised by their appearance and had to assure himself that the fellow had the correct address – twice – before taking receipt. Mama, doubtless, would not have allowed a single box to cross the threshold but, as fate would have it, she had gone out marketing with Skillet. We were obliged, therefore, for want of space in the hall, to carry them up to the drawing-room, which now rather resembles the Post Office at closing-time. 

The delivery came with a note:

Golden Cross Inn,

Charing Cross

11th February 1826

My Dear Dickens (if I may presume),

May I congratulate you on assuming the role of Honorary Secretary to our noble enterprise, the G.N.E.L.E.V.H.C. I am much engaged, at present, securing a permanent office for the Company, on the best and most economical of terms, in a reputable thoroughfare. In the meantime, it is incumbent for all of us who are Members of the Committee to promote the interests of the Company, affording it the greatest publicity and thereby taking first steps on the road to profit and prosperity. 

Please, therefore, find enclosed prospectuses (two gross) and hats (two dozen, individually boxed). The former may be delivered at your discretion to any respectable householders of means. The latter are intended to be presented as gifts to friends and acquaintances, in return for a modest testimonial to show support for our enterprise – say, no less than seven shillings apiece. This, I am sure, will do much to promote our great endeavour.

Yours, &c.

J. Smidgeon-Jones

p.s. Please also find enclosed an invoice for four guineas, to cover goods received, which may be remitted to myself at the above address, at your convenience.

Papa, having read it through, looked a little confused but said that this was a very business-like proceeding; and he was sure that Mama would quite understand the temporary inconvenience, when it came to the drawing-room. 

He has gone out in search of walnut cake.

Four o’clock p.m.

Mama has come back and seen the hats. All is not well.

Half past five o’clock p.m.

Walked past the drawing-room. Mama was sitting alone on the armchair, looking rather worn out and teary, staring at the boxes piled up in front of the window. I asked if I might have a piece of cake – one can pick out the walnuts in extremis – but she replied, ‘No, Charley dear; I am afraid it is the only thing that is keeping me going.’

She might very well have spared me one slice!