severing in
anything so difficult under the circumstances: but it may set me up
again in style, which is the great point. I have now L80 in the world
and two houses to keep up for an indefinite period. It is odd to be on
so strict a regimen; it is a week for instance since I have bought
myself a drink, and unless times change, I do not suppose I shall ever
buy myself another. The health improves. The Pied Piper is an idea; it
shall have my thoughts, and so shall you. The character of the P. P.
would be highly comic, I seem to see. Had you looked at the _Pavilion_,
I do not think you would have sent it to Stephen; 'tis a mere story, and
has no higher pretension: Dibbs is its name, I wish it was its nature
also. The _Vendetta_, at which you ignorantly puff out your lips, is a
real novel, though not a good one. As soon as I have found strength to
finish the _Emigrant_, I shall also finish the _Vend._ and draw a
breath--I wish I could say, "and draw a cheque." My spirits have risen
_contra fortunam_; I will fight this out, and conquer. You are all
anxious to have me home in a hurry. There are two or three objections to
that; but I shall instruct you more at large when I have time, for
to-day I am hunted, having a pile of letters before me. Yet it is
already drawing into dusk.--Yours affectionately,

R. L. S.

TO W. E. HENLEY

The Dook de Karneel (= Cornhill) and Marky de Stephen is of course
Mr. Leslie Stephen. The "blood and thunder" is _The Pavilion on the
Links. Hester Noble_ and _Don Juan_ were the titles of two plays
planned and begun with W. E. Henley the previous winter. They were
never finished. The French novels mentioned are by Joseph Mery. The
_Dialogue on Character and Destiny_ still exists in a fragmentary
condition. George the Pieman is a character in _Deacon Brodie_.

_608 Bush Street, San Francisco, January 23rd, 1880._

MY DEAR HENLEY,--That was good news. The Dook de Karneel, K.C.B., taken
a blood and thunder! Well, I _thought_ it had points; now, I know it.
And I'm to see a proof once more! O Glory Hallelujah, how beautiful is
proof, And how distressed that author man who dwells too far aloof. His
favourite words he always finds his friends misunderstand, With oaths,
he reads his articles, moist brow and clenched hand. Impromtoo. The last
line first-rate. When may I hope to see the _Deacon_? I pine for the
_Deacon_, for proofs of the _Pavilion_--O and for a cate