till six weeks to the end of
October! How thankful should we both be to have six weeks still before
us of the blessed bright autumn days, with their quiet mildnesses in
the midst of northern winds; and that these six weeks are of the year
1880--instead of '81 or '82--and that we both can read, and think, and
see flowers and skies, and be happy in making each other happy. _What_
a naughty little Susie, to want to throw any of her six weeks away!

I've just sealed in its envelope for post the most important Fors I
have yet written, addressed to the Trades Unions,[30] and their
committees are to have as many copies as they like free, for
distribution, free (dainty packets of Dynamite). I suspect I shall get
into hot water with _some_ people for it. Also I've been afraid
myself, to set it all down, for once! But down it is, and out it shall
come! and there's a nice new bit of article for the _Nineteenth
Century_, besides anyhow I keep you in reading, Susie--do you know
it's a very bad compliment to me that you find time pass so slowly!

I wonder why you gave me that little lecture about being "a city on a
hill." I don't want to be anything of the sort, and I'm going to-night
to see the Fille du Tambour-Major at the Folies Dramatiques.

[Footnote 30: "Fors," vol. viii., Letter 5.]

* * * * *

BRANTWOOD, _16th February, 1881_.

I've much to tell you "to-day"[31] of answer to those prayers you
prayed for me. But you must be told it by our good angels, for your
eyes must not be worn. God willing, you shall see men as trees walking
in the garden of God, on this pretty Coniston earth of ours. Don't be
afraid, and please be happy, for I can't be, if you are not. Love to
Mary, to Miss Rigbye, and my own St. Ursula,[32] and mind you give the
messages _to all three, heartily_.

[Footnote 31: The motto on Mr. Ruskin's seal. See "Praeterita", vol. ii.,]

[Footnote 32: Photograph of Carpaccio's.]

* * * * *

BRANTWOOD, _22d April, 1881_.

I'm not able to scratch or fight to-day, or I wouldn't let you cover
me up with this heap of gold; but I've got a rheumatic creak in my
neck, which makes me physically stiff and morally supple and
unprincipled, so I've put two pounds sixteen in my own "till," where
it just fills up some lowering of the tide lately by German bands and
the like, and I've put ten pounds aside