Let me know about Probst, whether he is in Paris or not.  Do not forget Wessel.  Tell Gutmann that I was much pleased that he asked for me at least once.  To Moscheles, should he be in Paris, order to be given an injection of Neukomm’s oratorios, prepared with Berlioz’s “Cellini” and Doehler’s Concerto.  Give Johnnie from me for his breakfast moustaches of sphinxes and kidneys of parrots, with tomato sauce powdered with little eggs of the microscopic world.  You yourself take a bath in whale’s infusion as a rest from all the commissions I give you, for I know that you will do willingly as much as time will permit, and I shall do the same for you when you are married—­of which Johnnie will very likely inform me soon.  Only not to Ox, for that is my party.

  [5.]

  My dear friend,—­In five, six, or seven days I shall be in
  Paris.  Get things prepared as quickly as possible; if not all,
  let me find at least the rooms papered and the bed ready.

I am hastening my arrival as the presence of George Sand is necessary on account of a piece to be played. [Footnote:  “Cosima.”  The first representation, at the Comedie Francaise, did not take place until April, 1840.] But this remains between us.  We have fixed our departure for the day after to- morrow; thus, counting a few days for delay, we shall see each other on Wednesday or Thursday.

Besides the different commissions I gave you, especially that in the last letter about her house, which after our arrival will be off your shoulders—­but till then, for God’s sake, be obliging—­besides all this, I say, I forgot to ask you to order for me a hat from my Duport in your street, Chaussee d’Antin.  He has my measure, and knows how light I want it and of what kind.  Let him give the hat of this year’s shape, not too much exaggerated, for I do not know how you are dressing yourself just now.  Again, besides this, call in passing at Dautremont’s, my tailor’s, on the Boulevards, and order him to make me at once a pair of grey trousers.  You will yourself select a dark-grey colour for winter trousers; something respectable, not striped, but plain and elastic.  You are an Englishman, so you know what I require.  Dautremont will be glad to hear that I am coming.  Also a quiet black velvet waistcoat, but with very little and no loud pattern, something very quiet but very elegant.  Should he not have the best velvet of this kind, let him make a quiet, fine silk waistcoat, but not too much open.  If the servant could be got for less than 80 francs, I should prefer it; but as you have already found one, let the matter rest.

  My very dear friend, pardon me once more for troubling you,
  but I must.  In a few days we shall see each other, and embrace
  for all this.