reature's wame, or he
had seen the hinder end o' they proofs. Ye crack o' Maecenas, he's
naebody by you! He gied the lad Horace a rax forrit by all accounts; but
he never gied him proofs like yon. Horace may hae been a better hand at
the clink than Stevison--mind, I'm no sayin' 't--but onyway he was never
sae weel prentit. Damned, but it's bonny! Hoo mony pages will there be,
think ye? Stevison maun hae sent ye the feck o' twenty sangs--fifteen
I'se warrant. Weel, that'll can make thretty pages, gin ye were to prent
on ae side only, whilk wad be perhaps what a man o' your _great_ idees
would be ettlin' at, man Johnson. Then there wad be the Pre-face, an'
prose ye ken prents oot langer than po'try at the hinder end, for ye hae
to say things in't. An' then there'll be a title-page and a dedication
and an index wi' the first lines like, and the deil an' a'. Man, it'll
be grand. Nae copies to be given to the Liberys.

I am alane myself, in Nice, they ca't, but damned, I think they micht as
well ca't Nesty. The Pile-on,[2] 's they ca't, 's aboot as big as the
river Tay at Perth; and it's rainin' maist like Greenock. Dod, I've seen
's had mair o' what they ca' the I-talian at Muttonhole. I-talian! I
haenae seen the sun for eicht and forty hours. Thomson's better, I
believe. But the body's fair attenyated. He's doon to seeven stane
eleeven, an' he sooks awa' at cod liver ile, till it's a fair disgrace.
Ye see he tak's it on a drap brandy; and it's my belief, it's just an
excuse for a dram. He an' Stevison gang aboot their lane, maistly;
they're company to either, like, an' whiles they'll speak o' Johnson.
But _he's_ far awa', losh me! Stevison's last book 's in a third
edeetion; an' it's bein' translated (like the psaulms of David, nae
less) into French; and an eediot they ca' Asher--a kind o' rival of
Tauchnitz--is bringin' him oot in a paper book for the Frenchies and the
German folk in twa volumes. Sae he's in luck, ye see.--Yours,

THOMSON.

TO SIDNEY COLVIN

Stevenson here narrates in his own fashion by what generalship he at
last got rid of the Campagne Defli without having to pay compensation
as his wife expected.

_Hotel du Petit Louvre, Marseille, 15 Feb. 1883._

DEAR SIR,--This is to intimate to you that Mr. and Mrs. Robert Louis
Stevenson were yesterday safely delivered

of a
Campagne.

The parents are both doing much better than could be expected;
particularly the dear pa