proud.
I got it up in one morning. Helen Benedict could not have done it
better.

I had a funny adventure the morning I left Tangier-- There was a good
deal of talk about Field (confound him) and my getting into the prison
and The Herald and Times correspondents were rather blue about it and
some of the English residents said that I had not been shown the whole
of the prison, that the worst had been kept from us. Field who only
got into the prison because I had worked at it two days, said there was
an additional ward I had not seen. I went back into this while he and
the guard were getting the door open to go out and saw nothing, but to
make sure that the prison was as I believed an absolute square, I went
back on the morning of my departure and climbed a wall and crawled over
a house top and photographed the top of the prison. Then a horrible
doubt came to me that this house upon which I was standing and which
adjoined the prison might be the addition of which the English
residents hinted. There was an old woman in the garden below jumping
up and down and to whom I had been shying money to keep her quiet. I
sent the guide around to ask her what was the nature of the building
upon which I had trespassed and which seemed to worry her so much-- He
came back to tell me that I was on the top of a harem and the old woman
thought I was getting up a flirtation with the gentleman's wives. So I
dropped back again.

It will be a couple of months at least before my first story comes out
in The Weekly. I cannot judge of them but I think they are up to the
average of the Western stories, the material is much richer I know, but
I am so much beset by the new sights that I have not the patience or
the leisure I had in the West-- Then there were days in which writing
was a relief, now there is so much to see that it seems almost a shame
to waste it.

By the grace of Providence I cannot leave here until the 28th, much to
my joy and I have found out that I can do better by going direct to
Malta and then to Tunis, leaving Algiers which I did not want to see
out of it-Hurrah. I shall now return to the calm continuation of my
story and to writing notes which Chas will enjoy.

DICK.

GIBRALTAR--February 1893.

DEAR MOTHER:

Morocco as it is is a very fine place spoiled by civilization. Not
nice civilization but the dregs of it, the broken down noblemen of
Spain and cashiered captains of England and the R---- L----'s of