"I ought to have written before, but I've been jumped right into the middle of things here. The letters Frank Congdon gave me took me into an artistic bunch about as gay and queer as Frank is, but they've been mighty nice to me. I've been setting for my bust to Mr. Moss, who is a sculptor. He has a big studio clear on the top of one of the tallest blocks here and has some dandy lamps and things. I've bought some to bring back. I met a Mr. Humiston there from New York, and he made a sketch of me--wants me to see his studio in New York. I don't know whether I'll go on or let Mart go with Lucius. Lucius is all right--I don't see how I got on without him. He knows everything. I wish I had half the education he's got. He's up on all the society ways and puts me on. For instance, he told me the nice thing would be to give a dinner to this artist push and to the people that Dorothy give me a letter to, and I'm going to do it. Lucius will look out for the whole thing. You should see the way the waiters tend. I reckon Lucius has told 'em we're made of money. I'm afraid we're getting spoilt, Muzz. It would be pretty tough to go back to the hotel now, wouldn't it? "We went to see Mart's sister, Fanny. Her house was a sight. It was clean enough, but littered--well, litter is no name for it--but she's a good old thing and so is McArdle. He sat and looked at us the whole time like a turkey blind in one eye--never said a word the whole time but 'pass the p-taties.' I liked him though. He's a kind of sculptor, too--makes patterns for all these little acorns and leaves and do-funnies on stoves. They've got forty-'leven children and need help and I'm perfectly willing Mart should help 'em. We're looking up houses now. He's going to buy a place for 'em on the west side. Wednesday night I went to see the Doctor Brents, Dorothy's friends. They had a dinner--very nice, but they all kind o' sat 'round and waited for us to perform. I guess they thought we were mountain lions. But they didn't make much out o' me. They was one chap there with goggles who looked at Mart like an undertaker. He's a scientific doctor--one of these fellers that invent new ways of doing things. His name is Halliday. I liked Dr. Brent pretty well--but Mrs. Brent only so-so. The doctor wants to 'dagnose' Mart's case--says it won't cost a cent. We all went to a show at night and the Captain was just about petered to a point. He's better though. The lower altitude helps his circulation. I guess his heart _is_ affected. He's afraid now he won't ever be able to go back to the mines. He wants to slide on to New York and see his father and wants me to go--but I'd rather come home--I'm homesick for the hills. They're nice to me here--but I want to see the old Peak once more. Tell" (here she wrote "Ben" and blotted it) "tell Mr. Fordyce that we're all right and to keep us posted every day. We see by the papers that the mine-owners are going to throw the unions out of business.