while
they feed; you should also see our back log when the thermometer goes
(as it does go) away--away below zero, till it can be seen no more by
the eye of man--not the thermometer, which is still perfectly visible,
but the mercury, which curls up into the bulb like a hibernating bear;
you should also see the lad who "does chores" for us, with his red
stockings and his thirteen-year-old face, and his highly manly tramp
into the room; and his two alternative answers to all questions about
the weather: either "Cold," or with a really lyrical movement of the
voice, "_Lovely_--raining!"

Will you take this miserable scrap for what it is worth? Will you also
understand that I am the man to blame, and my wife is really almost too
much out of health to write, or at least doesn't write?--And believe me,
with kind remembrances to Mrs. Boodle and your sisters, very sincerely
yours,

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

TO CHARLES BAXTER

The supposed Lord Warmingpan of the following was really Lord
Pollexfen.

_Saranac, 12th December '87._

Give us news of all your folk. A Merry Christmas from all of us.

MY DEAR CHARLES,--Will you please send L20 to ---- for a Christmas gift
from ----? Moreover, I cannot remember what I told you to send to ----;
but as God has dealt so providentially with me this year, I now propose
to make it L20.

I beg of you also to consider my strange position. I jined a club which
it was said was to defend the Union; and I had a letter from the
secretary, which his name I believe was Lord Warmingpan (or words to
that effect), to say I am elected, and had better pay up a certain sum
of money, I forget what. Now I cannae verra weel draw a blank cheque and
send to--

LORD WARMINGPAN (or words to that effect),
London, England.

And, man, if it was possible, I would be dooms glad to be out o' this
bit scrapie. Mebbe the club was ca'd "The Union," but I wouldnae like to
sweir; and mebbe it wasnae, or mebbe only words to that effec'--but I
wouldnae care just exac'ly about sweirin'. Do ye no think Henley, or
Pollick, or some o' they London fellies, micht mebbe perhaps find out
for me? and just what the soom was? And that you would aiblins pay for
me? For I thocht I was sae dam patriotic jinin', and it would be a kind
o' a come-doun to be turned out again. Mebbe Lang would ken; or mebbe
Rider Haggyard: they're kind o' Union folks. But it's my belief his name
was Warmingpan