s. I don't think you
can do better than call in the trusty Lillie to advise. Decide with your
aunt on which appears to be better, under the circumstances. Have
estimate made for _cash_, select patterns and colours, and let the work
be done out of hand. (Here's a prompt order; now I draw breath.) Let it
be thoroughly well done--no half measures.
There is a great thaw all over the country here, and I think it has done
the catarrh good. I am to read at the famous Newhaven on Tuesday, the
24th. I hope without a row, but cannot say. The readings are running out
fast now, and we are growing very restless.
This is a short letter, but we are pressed for time. It is two o'clock,
and we dine at three, before reading. To-morrow we rise at six, and have
eleven hours' railway or so. We have now come back from our farthest
point, and are steadily working towards home.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]
SPRINGFIELD, MASS., _Saturday, March 21st, 1868._
MY DEAREST MACREADY,
What with perpetual reading and travelling, what with a "true American
catarrh" (on which I am complimented almost boastfully), and what with
one of the severest winters ever known, your coals of fire received by
the last mail did not burn my head so much as they might have done
under less excusatory circumstances. But they scorched it too!
You would find the general aspect of America and Americans decidedly
much improved. You would find immeasurably greater consideration and
respect for your privacy than of old. You would find a steady change for
the better everywhere, except (oddly enough) in the railroads generally,
which seem to have stood still, while everything else has moved. But
there is an exception westward. There the express trains have now a very
delightful carriage called a "drawing-room car," literally a series of
little private drawing-rooms, with sofas and a table in each, opening
out of a little corridor. In each, too, is a large plate-glass window,
with which you can do as you like. As you pay extra for this luxury, it
may be regarded as the first move towards two classes of passengers.
When the railroad straight away to San Francisco (in six days) shall be
opened through, it will not only have these drawing-rooms, but
sleeping-rooms too; a bell in every little apartment communicating with
a steward's pantry, a restaurant, a staff of servants, marble
washing-stands, and a barber's shop! I looked into one of these c
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