A hundred thousand grateful loves to your dear papa and mamma. Is
your poor brother recovered of his rack-punch? Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
How men should beware of wicked punch!
Ever and ever thine own REBECCA
Everything considered, I think it is quite as well for our dear
Amelia Sedley, in Russell Square, that Miss Sharp and she are
parted. Rebecca is a droll funny creature, to be sure; and those
descriptions of the poor lady weeping for the loss of her beauty,
and the gentleman "with hay-coloured whiskers and straw-coloured
hair," are very smart, doubtless, and show a great knowledge of the
world. That she might, when on her knees, have been thinking of
something better than Miss Horrocks's ribbons, has possibly struck
both of us. But my kind reader will please to remember that this
history has "Vanity Fair" for a title, and that Vanity Fair is a
very vain, wicked, foolish place, full of all sorts of humbugs and
falsenesses and pretensions. And while the moralist, who is holding
forth on the cover ( an accurate portrait of your humble servant),
professes to wear neither gown nor bands, but only the very same
long-eared livery in which his congregation is arrayed: yet, look
you, one is bound to speak the truth as far as one knows it, whether
one mounts a cap and bells or a shovel hat; and a deal of
disagreeable matter must come out in the course of such an
undertaking.
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