in this case there was no
woman to intervene, as in the Spanish version of the proverb, to
"discompose" the disposition of Deity. Before the project contemplated
in Field's letter took tangible shape, however, he was laid on his back
by a severe cold, which developed into pneumonia. On his recovery, the
doctor advised that he should go to California; and on November 8th he
wrote to Mr. Gray, asking him if he and his niece could not be ready to
accompany him about the 1st of December. Concluding a very brief note,
he said: "Writing makes me very tired, so pray pardon my brutal
brevity. I send very much love to you and yours. Many, many times have
I thought of you, dear friend, during the last three painful weeks, and
I have wished that you were here, that I might speak with you." Mr.
Gray arranged to join Field on the trip, which the latter outlined in a
letter to him December 4th, 1893:

I shall probably be ready to start for Los Angeles the latter part
of this week. My plans at present are very limited, extending only
to Los Angeles and San Diego. At the latter point it will be wise
for me to remain three weeks. That will practically make me a well
man. It is said to be a lovely spot. From there I shall want to go
for a week or ten days to Madame Modjeska's ranch, located ten miles
from the railway, half-way between San Diego and Los Angeles. It is
a large ranch--1,000 acres. Madame Modjeska has put it at my
disposal, and Lynch and you must help me bear the responsibility
thereof. Later in the winter we will go up to San Francisco and
visit Henry Field awhile. I will let you know when we start, and if
you can't join us at Kansas City, suppose you come on as soon as you
can and join me at San Diego. We go to Los Angeles by the Santa Fe.
On receipt of this, telegraph me if you can leave Saturday or
Sunday. If you are cramped for finances, what sort of a fix do you
suppose I'm in? But we must all live; we cannot afford to die just
yet. I went down to dinner for the first time on Thursday; I am
feeling pretty brisk. Love to Miss Eva.

Ever affectionately yours, with a sore finger,

EUGENE FIELD.

Field did not find in California the "glorious climate" which the
well-meant advice of his physicians had led him to expect. His going up
to San Francisco in winter to visit his cousin was a mistake, which he
quickly regretted, as the following testifies:

DEAR MR. GRAY: I am very t