cks. Dinner
came at last, we had the tinned soup which is usually the _piece de
resistance_ in the halls of Haggard, and we pitched into it. Followed an
excellent salad of tomatoes and crayfish, a good Indian curry, a tender
joint of beef, a dish of pigeons, a pudding, cheese and coffee. I was so
over-eaten after this "hunger and burst" that I could scarcely move; and
it was my sad fate that night in the character of the local author to
eloquute before the public--"Mr. Stevenson will read a selection from
his own works"--a degrading picture. I had determined to read them the
account of the hurricane; I do not know if I told you that my book has
never turned up here, or rather only one copy has, and that in the
unfriendly hands of ----. It has therefore only been seen by enemies;
and this combination of mystery and evil report has been greatly
envenomed by some ill-judged newspaper articles from the States.
Altogether this specimen was listened to with a good deal of
uncomfortable expectation on the part of the Germans, and when it was
over was applauded with unmistakable relief. The public hall where these
revels came off seems to be unlucky for me; I never go there but to some
stone-breaking job. Last time it was the public meeting of which I must
have written you; this time it was this uneasy but not on the whole
unsuccessful experiment. Belle, my mother, and I rode home about
midnight in a fine display of lightning and witch-fires. My mother is
absent, so that I may dare to say that she struck me as voluble. The
Amanuensis did not strike me the same way; she was probably thinking,
but it was really rather a weird business, and I saw what I have never
seen before, the witch-fires gathered into little bright blue points
almost as bright as a night-light.

_Saturday._--This is the day that should bring your letter; it is gray
and cloudy and windless; thunder rolls in the mountain; it is a quarter
past six, and I am alone, sir, alone in this workman's house, Belle and
Lloyd having been down all yesterday to meet the steamer; they were
scarce gone with most of the horses and all the saddles, than there
began a perfect picnic of the sick and maim; Iopu with a bad foot,
Faauma with a bad shoulder, Fanny with yellow spots. It was at first
proposed to carry all these to the doctor, particularly Faauma, whose
shoulder bore an appearance of erysipelas, that sent the amateur below.
No horses, no saddle. Now I had my horse and I