a man of
crushing occupations, and count it as a volume. Your little _conte_ is
delightful. Ah yes, you are right, I love the eighteenth century; and so
do you, and have not listened to its voice in vain.--The Hunted One,

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

TO CHARLES BAXTER

_Honolulu, 8th March 1889._

MY DEAR CHARLES,--At last I have the accounts: the Doer has done
excellently, and in the words of ----, "I reciprocate every step of your
behaviour."... I send a letter for Bob in your care, as I don't know
his Liverpool address,[30] by which (for he is to show you part of it)
you will see we have got out of this adventure--or hope to have--with
wonderful fortune. I have the retrospective horrors on me when I think
of the liabilities I incurred; but, thank God, I think I'm in port
again, and I have found one climate in which I can enjoy life. Even
Honolulu is too cold for me; but the south isles were a heaven upon
earth to a puir, catarrhal party like Johns'one. We think, as Tahiti is
too complete a banishment, to try Madeira. It's only a week from
England, good communications, and I suspect in climate and scenery not
unlike our dear islands; in people, alas! there can be no comparison.
But friends could go, and I could come in summer, so I should not be
quite cut off.

Lloyd and I have finished a story, _The Wrong Box_. If it is not funny,
I am sure I do not know what is. I have split over writing it. Since I
have been here, I have been toiling like a galley slave: three numbers
of _The Master_ to rewrite, five chapters of _The Wrong Box_ to write
and rewrite, and about five hundred lines of a narrative poem to write,
rewrite, and re-rewrite. Now I have _The Master_ waiting me for its
continuation, two numbers more; when that's done, I shall breathe. This
spasm of activity has been chequered with champagne parties: Happy and
Glorious, Hawaii Ponoi paua: kou moi--(Native Hawaiians, dote upon your
monarch!) Hawaiian God save the King. (In addition to my other labours,
I am learning the language with a native moonshee.) Kalakaua is a
terrible companion; a bottle of fizz is like a glass of sherry to him;
he thinks nothing of five or six in an afternoon as a whet for dinner.
You should see a photograph of our party after an afternoon with H. H.
M.: my! what a crew!--Yours ever affectionately,

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

TO SIDNEY COLVIN

Ill-health and pressing preoccupations, together with u