I am very sorry Carlt finds his position in the civil service so intolerable. If he can do better outside he should resign. If he can't, why, that means that the Government is doing better for him than he can do for himself, and you are not justified in your little tirade about the oppression of "the masses." "The masses" have been unprosperous from time immemorial, and always will be. A very simple way to escape that condition (and the _only_ way) is to elevate oneself out of that incapable class. You write like an anarchist and say that if you were a man you'd _be_ one. I should be sorry to believe that, for I should lose a very charming niece, and you a most worthy uncle. You say that Carlt and Grizzly are not Socialists. Does that mean that _they_ are anarchists? I draw the line at anarchists, and would put them all to death if I lawfully could. But I fancy your intemperate words are just the babbling of a thoughtless girl. In any case you ought to know from my work in literature that I am not the person to whom to address them. I carry my convictions into my life and conduct, into my friendships, affections and all my relations with my fellow creatures. So I think it would be more considerate to leave out of your letters to _me_ some things that you may have in mind. Write them to others. My own references to socialism, and the like, have been jocular--I did not think you perverted "enough to hurt," though I consider your intellectual environment a mighty bad one. As to such matters in future let us make a treaty of silence. Affectionately, AMBROSE. [The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C., March 1, 1911.] MY DEAR RUTH, It is pleasant to know that the family Robertson is "seeing things" and enjoying them. I hate travel, but find it delightful when done by you, instead of me. Believe me, I have had great pleasure in following you by your trail of words, as in the sport known as the "paper chase." And now about the little story. Your refusal to let your father amend it is no doubt dreadfully insubordinate, but I brave his wrath by approval. It is _your_ work that I want to see, not anybody's else. I've a profound respect for your father's talent: as a literateur, he is the best physician that I know; but he must not be coaching my pupil, or he and I (as Mark Twain said of Mrs. Astor) "will have a falling out."