of a legal envelope, an inventory of its
contents, which I exactly followed; and the name of 'Flint's old
ship'--the 'Walrus'--was given at his particular request. And now who
should come dropping in, _ex machina_, but Dr. Japp, like the disguised
prince who is to bring down the curtain upon peace and happiness in the
last act; for he carried in his pocket, not a horn or a talisman, but a
publisher--had, in fact, been charged by my old friend, Mr. Henderson,
to unearth new writers for _Young Folks_. Even the ruthlessness of a
united family recoiled before the extreme measure of inflicting on our
guest the mutilated members of 'The Sea Cook'; at the same time, we
would by no means stop our readings; and accordingly the tale was begun
again at the beginning, and solemnly re-delivered for the benefit of Dr.
Japp. From that moment on, I have thought highly of his critical
faculty; for when he left us, he carried away the manuscript in his
portmanteau.

Here, then, was everything to keep me up, sympathy, help, and now a
positive engagement. I had chosen besides a very easy style. Compare it
with the almost contemporary 'Merry Men'; one reader may prefer the one
style, one the other--'tis an affair of character, perhaps of mood; but
no expert can fail to see that the one is much more difficult, and the
other much easier to maintain. It seems as though a full-grown
experienced man of letters might engage to turn out 'Treasure Island' at
so many pages a day, and keep his pipe alight. But alas! this was not my
case. Fifteen days I stuck to it, and turned out fifteen chapters; and
then, in the early paragraphs of the sixteenth, ignominiously lost hold.
My mouth was empty; there was not one word of 'Treasure Island' in my
bosom; and here were the proofs of the beginning already waiting me at
the 'Hand and Spear'! Then I corrected them, living for the most part
alone, walking on the heath at Weybridge in dewy autumn mornings, a good
deal pleased with what I had done, and more appalled than I can depict
to you in words at what remained for me to do. I was thirty one; I was
the head of a family; I had lost my health; I had never yet paid my way,
never yet made 200_l._ a year; my father had quite recently bought back
and cancelled a book that was judged a failure: was this to be another
and last fiasco? I was indeed very close on despair; but I shut my mouth
hard, and during the journey to Davos, where I was to pass the winter,
had t