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cept for occasional twinges of sciatica but I have not had to go to bed with it and some times it disappears for a week。 A little less rain and more sun will stop it。 I hope you do not mind my not returning but we will all be together for many months this Fall and I really feel that I have not had a quiet moment here for pleasure and work。 It has been such a rush。 I do wish to see dear Dad。 I am so very sorry about his being ill； and I hope he is having lots of fishing。 Love to all at Marionand God bless you。
RICHARD。
LONDON July 13； 1897。 DEAR MOTHER：
Today Barrie gave a copyright performance of 〃The Little Minister〃 which Maude Adams is to play in the States。 It was advertised by a single bill in front of the Haymarket Theater and the price of admission was five guineas。 We took in fifteen guineas； the audience being Charley Frohman； Lady Craig and a man。 Cyril Maude played the hero and Brandon Thomas and Barrie the two low comedy partstwo Scotchmen of Thrums。 I started to play one of them； but as I insisted on making it an aged negro with songs； Barrie and Frohman got discouraged and let me play the villain； Lord Rintoul； in which character I was great。 Maude played his part in five different ways and dialects so as to see which he liked best； he said。 It was a bit confusing。 Then one of the actors went up in the gallery and pretended to be a journalist critic who had sneaked in； and he abused the play and the actors with the exception of the man who played Whamond （himself） whom he said he thought showed great promise。 Maude pretended not to know who he was and it fooled everybody。 Mrs。 Barrie played the gipsy and danced most of the time； which she said was her conception of the part as it was in the book。 Her husband explained that this was a play； not a book； but she did not care and danced on and off。 She played my daughter； and I had a great scene in which I cursed her； which got rounds of applause。 Lady Lewis's daughters in beautiful Paquin dresses played Scotch lassies； and giggled in all the sad parts； and one actress who had made a great success as one of the 〃Two Vagabonds〃 made everybody weep by really trying to act。 At one time there were five men on the stage all talking Scotch dialect and imitating Irving at the same time。 It was a truly remarkable performance。 Ethel Barrymore goes back on Saturday with Drew to play a French maid in 〃A Marriage of Convenience。〃 She is announced to be engaged to Hope； I see by the papers。 They are not engaged； of course； but the papers love to make matches。 Look for me as sailing either on the 31st on the St。 Louis or a week later。 With lots and lots of love。
DICK。
In the late summer Richard returned to Marion and from there went to New York。 However； at this time； the lure of England was very strong with my brother； and early December found him back in London。
LONDON； December 29th； 1897。 DEAR MOTHER：
I had a most exciting Christmas； most of which I spent in Whitechapel in the London Hospital。 I lunched with the Spenders and then went down with them carrying large packages for distribution to the sick。 I expected to be terribly bored； but thought I would feel so virtuous that I would the better enjoy my dinner which I had promised to take with the McCarthys On the contrary； I had the most amusing time and much more fun than I had later。 The patients seemed only to be playing sick； and some of them were very humorous and others very pathetic and I played tin soldiers with some； and distributed rich gifts； other people had paid for； with a lavish hand。 I also sat on a little girl's cot and played dolls for an hour。 She had something wrong with her spine and I wept most of the time； chiefly because she smiled all the time。 She went asleep holding on to my middle finger like the baby in 〃The Luck of Roaring Camp。〃 There were eighty babies in red flannel nightgowns buttoned up the back who had pillow fights in honor of the day and took turns in playing on a barrel organ； those that were strong and tall enough。 In the next ward another baby in white was dying Its mother was a coster girl； seventeen years old； with a big hat and plumes like those the flower girls wear at Piccadilly Circus。 The baby was yellow like old ivory and its teeth and gums were blue and it died while we were watching it。 The mother girl was drinking tea and crying into it out of red swollen eyes； and twenty feet off one of the red nightgowned kids was playing 〃Louisiana Lou〃 on the barrel organ。 The nurse put the baby's arms under the sheets and then pulled one up over its face and took the teacup away from the mother who didn't see what had happened and I came away while three young nurses were comforting the girl。 Most of the nurses were very beautiful； and I neglected my duties as Santa Claus to talk to them。 They would stop talking to get down on their knees and dust up the floor； which was most embarrassing； you couldn't very well ask to be let to help。 There was one coster who had his broken leg in a cage which moved with the leg no matter how much he tossed。 He was like the man 〃who sat in jail without his boots； admiring how the world was made；〃 he spent all his waking hours in wrapt admiration of the cage He said to me 〃I've been here a fortnight now； come Monday； and I can't break my leg no how。 Yer can't do it； that's all Yer can twist； and kick； and toss； and it don't do no good。 Yer jest can't do it Now you take notice。〃 Then he would kick violently and the cage would run around on trolleys and keep the broken limb straight。 〃See！〃 he would exclaim； 〃Wot did I tell you Its no use of trying； yer just can't do it。 'ere I've been ten days a trying and it can't be done。〃
We had a very fine Christmas dinner just Ethel； the McCarthy's and I。 Fanny； tell Charles； brought in the plum pudding with a sprig of holly in it and blazing； and after dinner I read them the Jackall About eleven I started to take Ethel to Miss Terry's； who lives miles beyond Kensington。 There was a light fog。 I said that all sorts of things ought to happen in a fog but that no one ever did have adventures nowadays。 At that we rode straight into a bank of fog that makes those on the fishing banks look like Spring sunshine。 You could not see the houses； nor the street； nor the horse； not even his tail。 All you could see were gas jets； but not the iron that supported them。 The cabman discovered the fact that he was lost and turned around in circles and the horse slipped on the asphalt which was thick with frost； and then we backed into lamp…posts and curbs until Ethel got so scared she bit her under lip until it bled。 You could not tell whether you were going into a house or over a precipice or into a sea。 The horse finally backed up a flight of steps； and rubbed the cabby against a front door； and jabbed the wheels into an area railing and fell down。 That； I thought； was our cue to get out； so we slipped into a well of yellow mist and felt around for each 'other until a square block of light suddenly opened in mid air and four terrified women appeared in the doorway of the house through which the cabman was endeavoring to butt himself。 They begged us to come in； and we did Being Christmas and because the McCarthy's always call me 〃King〃 I had put on all my decorations and the tin star and I also wore my beautiful fur coat； to which I have treated myself； and a grand good thing it is； too I took this off because the room was very hot； forgetting about the decorations and remarked in the same time to Ethel that it would be folly to try and get to Barkston Gardens； and that we must go back to the 〃Duchess's〃 for the night。 At this Ethel answered calmly 〃yes； Duke；〃 and I became conscious of the fact that the eyes of the four women were riveted on my fur coat and decorations。 At the word 〃Duke〃 delivered by a very pretty girl in an evening frock and with nothing on her hair the four women disappeared and brought back the children； the servants； and the men； who were so overcome with awe and excitement and Christmas cheer that they all but got down on their knees in a circle。 So； we fled out into the night followed by minute directions as to where 〃Your Grace