Charles Lamb letter to Mary Shelley, 19th century

Dear Mrs. Shelley. If you ever run away, which is problematical, don't run to a country village, which has been a market town, but is such no longer. Enfield, where we are, is /---/ seated most indifferently /dismally/ upon the borders of Middlesex, Essex, and Hertfordshire partaking /---/ of the quiet dullness of the first, & the total want of interest pervading the two latter Counties. You stray into the Church yard, hoping to find a Cathedral. You think, I will go and look at the Printshops, and there is only one, where they sell Valentines. The chief Bookseller deals in prose versions of Melodrama, with plates of Ghosts and Murders, and other Subterranean passages. The tarts in the only Pastry-cook-Cooking shop are baked stale. The macaroons are per-ennial/petual/ly kept torpid in glass cases, expecting when Mrs. + + + + gives a card party. There is no jewellers, but there's a place where brass knobs are sold. You cast your dreary eyes about, up Baker Street, and it gets worse. There was something like a tape and thread shop at that end, but here - is two apples stuck between a farthingsworth of ginger bread, & the children are too poor to break stock.