[He then proceeds to describe his habitual demeanor in Boston.]
This letter is written diary-wise. When I left off I was at the railway station. Imagine us now safely arrived in B--[Boston]. When there, I always maintain punctiliously the character of a country gentleman. We trail along the sidewalk, stopping at all the shop windows to look at prints, caricatures, rifles, silverware, muslins, books, goldfish, toys, and what not. Perhaps I go over all the shop windows again, or I walk down to the end of Long Wharf-the only part of the city that I loved when a boy -or I walk through Ann Street, (sadly changed now, and invaded by granite blocks,) or round by Copp's Hill, where the primitive pretionary
