Ever affectionately, with countless thanks,
DEAR McDONALD,--I am sending you two of Zola's books, and a rather complex social novel by Maupassant--not, any of them, to be returned. I recommend "Rome" only; the others will just do to lend to friends, or to read for the sake of the French, when you have nothing better on hand.
What a glorious day we did have! Wonder if I shall ever be able to make a thumbnail literary study thereof,--with philosophical reflections. The naval officer, the Buddhist philosopher, and the wandering evolutionist. The impression is altogether too sunny and happy and queer to be forever lost to the world. I must think it up some day.
My back feels to-day as if those little sand-crabs were running over it; but the pain is nearly all gone. I shall be ready for another swim in a day or two.
And that supper at the Grand Hotel! I am awfully demoralized to-day--feeling gloriously well, but not in a working mood. A week more of holidays would ruin me! Discomfort is absolutely necessary for literary inspiration. Make a man perfectly happy, and what has he to work for? Nothing shall disturb my "ancient solitary reign" excepting the friends with whom I yesterday imposed upon the patience of certain crabs,--who suddenly found themselves facing a problem for which all their inherited experience had left them supremely unprepared.
Too soon we shall have winter upon us again; and I shall be struggling with problems of university-student peculiarities;--and I shall be working wonderfully hard at a new book. There will be all kinds of dull, dark, tiresome days; but whenever I want I can call back the summer sun,--simply by closing my eyes. Then, in blue light, between sand and sea-line, I shall discern a U.S. naval officer in Cape May costume, and a Buddhist philosopher, busied making little holes in the beach,--sapping and mining the habitations of small horrified crabs. Also I shall see a lemon yellow sky, with an amethystine Fuji cutting sharply against it. And many other things,--little dreams of gold.
DEAR McDONALD,--I thought the house would go last night; but we had only two trees blown down this time, and the fence lifted in a southwesterly direction. Truly I was wise not to go to Shinano as I intended: it would have been no easy thing to get back again. And you did well not to try Fuji. It might have been all right; and it might have been very dangerous work indeed. When a typhoon runs around Fuji, Amenomori tells me that it blows the big rocks away like a powder-explosion. Judging from the extraordinary "protection-walls" built about the hut at the mountain-top, and from the way in which the station-house roofs are purposely weighted down, I fancy this must be quite true. A lava-block falling from the upper regions goes down like a bounding shot from a cannon; and I should just about as soon stand in front of a 50-lb. steel shell.