ver left him during his visit, and which caused him the greatest
annoyance. I will give you a few quotations from his letters to show how
pluckily he fought against his ailment and under what a strain he
continued his work. On his arrival at New York on Christmas Day, in
response to a letter of mine which awaited him there, he wrote: "I wanted
your letter much, for I had a frightful cold (English colds are nothing
to those of this country) and was very miserable." He adds to this
letter, a day or two later: "I managed to read last night but it was as
much as I could do. To-day I am so unwell that I have sent for a
doctor." Again he writes: "It likewise happens, not seldom, that I am so
dead beat when I come off the stage, that they lay me down on a sofa
after I have been washed and dressed, and I lie there extremely faint for
a quarter of an hour. In that time I rally and come right." Again: "On
the afternoon of my birthday my catarrh was in such a state that Charles
Sumner coming in at five o'clock and finding me covered with mustard
poultices and apparently voiceless, turned to Dolby and said: 'Surely,
Mr. Dolby, it is impossible that he can read to-night.' Says Dolby:
'Sir, I have told Mr. Dickens so four times to-day and I have been very
anxious. But you have no idea how he will change when he gets to the
little table.' After five minutes of the little table I was not, for the
time, even hoarse. The frequent experience of this return of force when
it is wanted saves me much anxiety, but I am not at times without the
nervous dread that I may some day sink altogether."

But as a reward for his unstinted self-giving came the wonderful success
of his tour, the pride and delight which he felt in the enthusiasm which
greeted him everywhere, the personal affection lavished upon him, and the
many dear friends he made. He writes from Boston, _a propos_ of these
rewards: "When we reached here last Saturday night we found that Mrs.
Fields had not only garnished the room with flowers, but also with holly
(with real red berries), and festoons of moss dependent from the
looking-glasses and picture-frames. The homely Christmas look of the
place quite affected us."

Later, from Washington: "I couldn't help laughing at myself on my
birthday here; it was observed as much as though I were a little boy.
Flowers and garlands of the most exquisite kind, arranged in all manner
of green baskets, bloomed over the room; letters,