I gut yer letter, an curd reed most of it. Since the master died, the place has been bought by that Baron Caruso, who had us change everything, wallpapers and all. But last season he said he didn't want to live here nomore. The past year he demanded that we condemn Mr. Stilton's old Study. He said he heard voices in there, and saw weird sights. Well, what do you expect in a house where the owner was murdered, I told 'im?
Anyhow now I'm the only one left to keep the place up.
I stay in memory of Mr. Stilton, even if the place's not the same. Don't ferget he was the one who pulled me from the mines. Nearly buried alive, I was! The doctor said I weren't ever be much use again. But Mr. Aramis Stilton took me in, and said I were the best servant he ever had.
All the others left last month. So I got to do everything. Cookin, repairs, chasing out rats. Setting buckits for the holes in the roof when it rains. It's lonely bisness. Don't know how long I can keep up. Keep care of yerself,