This will shew you that I have not been very Idle since I began and I should like to know from you, whether you would like to see what I have said of these, as if you do, I will have them copied as soon as I receive your letter, and will forward the whole, and the additional written in the interim, at the same time. I have a beautiful drawing of a fine male moose, that of the Elk is already engraved, and next week we will forward to the engraver no less than five or six drawings of the best quality. by the way I am sorry that you should look upon the Texan Skunk as a bad figure. The animal is an ungraceful one in its Singular Colouring, but it is nevertheless quite true to nature, with all its specific characters to a _T_. Victor wrote to you that I was anxious to have your opinion about the Title page and I hope you will send me your ideas forthwith on that subject. I send you now by mail a long article about our work which I conceive and hope will prove to you that the "mutual friend" knew but very little of my feelings or actions or sayings as regards you— I really & most truly regret that you should have been put out, and mis-led about this our work by a third party, who must to say the least of it [have] abused your credulity to the very extreme. However, the sooner forgotten, the sooner mended. it is with deeply felt regret from every one of my Family that we read the account in your letter of the condition of your dear wife, but hope that she will accompany you early next spring to visit our humble but comfortable residence. Now do Come! Present our joint regards to every one of your family, and believe me when I say that none will ever feel more delighted than I, to hear of the welfare of the beautiful "Rabbit"— And now that I am exceedingly fatigued, having been writing for upwards of seven hours, I will wish you good night & all the blessings that God may grant to [the] good man and to every member of his family—Do not forget me near your Sweet heart. Your ever faithfully attached & Sincere friend J. J. A. In July, 1845, a destructive fire devastated a large section of the city of New York, including the warehouse in which the copperplates of Audubon's _Birds_ were stored; many believed that the plates had been ruined, and one of these was the writer who after witnessing the event gave the following dramatic account:[204]