too, are demoralized. That senile old
substitute of yours--the Dock--has been as growly-powly as a bear
to-day. As for me, I am growing desperate. You can see by the
enclosed picture how changed I am.

[Illustration: FIELD'S PORTRAIT OF HIMSELF.
"_As I would have looked but for the refining influence of Old
Nompy._"]

Well, Chicago beat St. Louis to-day and, the gods be glorified!
Kansas City beat Detroit! as for New York, Boston whipped her day
before yesterday and Washington shut her out to-day! now if Detroit
will only lose a game or two to St. Louis! I more than half suspect
that your home folk will think that you and I are base-ball mad.

Stone has bought Gussie a salad set for a wedding gift. I suggested
it in the hope that with two sets on hand Gussie might be disposed
to give us the old one....

Remember me in respectful phraseology to the belligerent Marie
Matilde.

Yours as ever,

FIELD.

V

CHICAGO, Thursday evening, September the 16th, 1886.

My dear Fellow:--It is presumed that Ballantyne and his bride
arrived in this city to-day at seven A.M., but up to this hour
(eight P.M.) the bridegroom has not put in an appearance at the
office.

Cowen is threatening to write to you; it occurs to me that he ought
to do something to atone for the vile slanders he has uttered about
you since you went away. Stone kept Reilly busy at writing from two
o'clock yesterday afternoon until twelve last night. Your friend
Werner, advance agent of the McCaul Company, is in town. He inquired
for you to-day.

I have been reading the memoirs of Dolly Madison and am specially
delighted with the letter written by the old Quakeress, Mrs. Hobbs.
It is a beautiful letter, and you must read it at your first
opportunity.

Stone is very much pleased over the result of the County Democratic
Convention, the defeat of Dunphy giving him particular gratification.
Love to all. God bless you, dear boy.

Yours as ever,

FIELD.

Detroit, 0; St. Louis, 0; game called at end of fifth inning.
Chicago walloped Kansas City.

VI

CHICAGO, Saturday, September the 18th, 1886.

This, sweet lad, is the dullest Saturday that has befallen me in
many a year. John and his bride are over at Hooley's Theatre
watching that lachrymose melodrama, "Alone in London." There is
nothing worth seeing at any other house. There is nobody for me to
visit with,