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man struck。 It was sometimes so distressing； so instant； that I
lay in the heather on the top of the island； with my face hid；
kicking my heels for agony。 And now； when I can hear the actual
concussion of the air and hills； when I KNOW personally the people
who stand exposed to it； I am able to go on TANT BIEN QUE MAL with
a letter to James Payn！ The blessings of age； though mighty small；
are tangible。 I have heard a great deal of them since I came into
the world； and now that I begin to taste of them … Well！ But this
is one； that people do get cured of the excess of sensibility； and
I had as lief these people were shot at as myself … or almost； for
then I should have some of the fun； such as it is。
You are to conceive me； then； sitting in my little gallery room；
shaken by these continual spasms of cannon； and with my eye more or
less singly fixed on the imaginary figure of my dear James Payn。 I
try to see him in bed； no go。 I see him instead jumping up in his
room in Waterloo Place （where EX HYPOTHESI he is not）； sitting on
the table； drawing out a very black briar…root pipe； and beginning
to talk to a slim and ill…dressed visitor in a voice that is good
to hear and with a smile that is pleasant to see。 （After a little
more than half an hour； the voice that was ill to hear has ceased；
the cannonade is over。） And I am thinking how I can get an
answering smile wafted over so many leagues of land and water； and
can find no way。
I have always been a great visitor of the sick； and one of the sick
I visited was W。 E。 Henley； which did not make very tedious visits；
so I'll not get off much purgatory for them。 That was in the
Edinburgh Infirmary； the old one； the true one； with Georgius
Secundus standing and pointing his toe in a niche of the facade；
and a mighty fine building it was！ And I remember one winter's
afternoon； in that place of misery； that Henley and I chanced to
fall in talk about James Payn himself。 I am wishing you could have
heard that talk！ I think that would make you smile。 We had mixed
you up with John Payne； for one thing； and stood amazed at your
extraordinary； even painful； versatility； and for another； we found
ourselves each students so well prepared for examinations on the
novels of the real Mackay。 Perhaps； after all； this is worth
something in life … to have given so much pleasure to a pair so
different in every way as were Henley and I； and to be talked of
with so much interest by two such （beg pardon） clever lads！
The cheerful Lang has neglected to tell me what is the matter with
you； so； I'm sorry to say； I am cut off from all the customary
consolations。 I can't say； 'Think how much worse it would be if
you had a broken leg！' when you may have the crushing repartee up
your sleeve； 'But it is my leg that is broken。' This is a pity。
But there are consolations。 You are an Englishman （I believe）； you
are a man of letters； you have never been made C。B。； your hair was
not red； you have played cribbage and whist； you did not play
either the fiddle or the banjo； you were never an aesthete； you
never contributed to …'S JOURNAL； your name is not Jabez Balfour；
you are totally unconnected with the Army and Navy departments； I
understand you to have lived within your income … why； cheer up！
here are many legitimate causes of congratulation。 I seem to be
writing an obituary notice。 ABSIT OMEN！ But I feel very sure that
these considerations will have done you more good than medicine。
By the by； did you ever play piquet？ I have fallen a victim to
this debilitating game。 It is supposed to be scientific； God save
the mark； what self…deceivers men are！ It is distinctly less so
than cribbage。 But how fascinating！ There is such material
opulence about it； such vast ambitions may be realised … and are
not； it may be called the Monte Cristo of games。 And the thrill
with which you take five cards partakes of the nature of lust … and
you draw four sevens and a nine； and the seven and nine of a suit
that you discarded； and O！ but the world is a desert！ You may see
traces of discouragement in my letter： all due to piquet！ There
has been a disastrous turn of the luck against me； a month or two
ago I was two thousand ahead； now； and for a week back； I have been
anything from four thousand eight hundred to five thousand two
hundred astern。 If I have a sixieme； my beast of a partner has a
septieme； and if I have three aces； three kings； three queens； and
three knaves （excuse the slight exaggeration）； the devil holds
quatorze of tens！ … I remain； my dear James Payn； your sincere and
obliged friend … old friend let me say；
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON。
Letter： TO MISS MIDDLETON
VAILIMA； SAMOA； SEPTEMBER 9； 1894。
DEAR MISS MIDDLETON； … Your letter has been like the drawing up of
a curtain。 Of course I remember you very well； and the Skye
terrier to which you refer … a heavy； dull； fatted； graceless
creature he grew up to be … was my own particular pet。 It may
amuse you； perhaps； as much as 'The Inn' amused me； if I tell you
what made this dog particularly mine。 My father was the natural
god of all the dogs in our house； and poor Jura took to him of
course。 Jura was stolen； and kept in prison somewhere for more
than a week； as I remember。 When he came back Smeoroch had come
and taken my father's heart from him。 He took his stand like a
man； and positively never spoke to my father again from that day
until the day of his death。 It was the only sign of character he
ever showed。 I took him up to my room and to be my dog in
consequence； partly because I was sorry for him； and partly because
I admired his dignity in misfortune。
With best regards and thanks for having reminded me of so many
pleasant days； old acquaintances； dead friends； and … what is
perhaps as pathetic as any of them … dead dogs； I remain； yours
truly；
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON。
Letter： TO A。 CONAN DOYLE
VAILIMA； SAMOA； SEPTEMBER 9； 1894。
MY DEAR CONAN DOYLE； … If you found anything to entertain you in my
TREASURE ISLAND article； it may amuse you to know that you owe it
entirely to yourself。 YOUR 'First Book' was by some accident read
aloud one night in my Baronial 'All。 I was consumedly amused by
it； so was the whole family； and we proceeded to hunt up back
IDLERS and read the whole series。 It is a rattling good series；
even people whom you would not expect came in quite the proper tone
… Miss Braddon； for instance； who was really one of the best where
all are good … or all but one！ 。。。 In short； I fell in love with
'The First Book' series； and determined that it should be all our
first books； and that I could not hold back where the white plume
of Conan Doyle waved gallantly in the front。 I hope they will
republish them； though it's a grievous thought to me that that
effigy in the German cap … likewise the other effigy of the noisome
old man with the long hair； telling indelicate stories to a couple
of deformed negresses in a rancid shanty full of wreckage … should
be perpetuated。 I may seem to speak in pleasantry … it is only a
seeming … that German cap； sir； would be found； when I come to die；
imprinted on my heart。 Enough … my heart is too full。 Adieu。 …
Yours very truly；
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
（in a German cap； damn 'em！）
Letter： TO CHARLES BAXTER
＇VAILIMA； SEPTEMBER 1894。＇
MY DEAR CHARLES； … 。 。 。 Well； there is no more Edmund Baxter now；
and I think I may say I know how you feel。 He was one of the best；
the kindest； and the most genial men I ever knew。 I shall always
remember his brisk； cordial ways and the essential goodness which
he showed me whenever we met with gratitude。 And the always is
such a little while now！ He is another