AMBROSE BIERCE. My boy (who has been an angel of goodness to me in my illness) sends his love to you and all your people. [Angwin, Cal., January 14, 1893.] MY DEAR PARTINGTON, You see the matter is this way. You can't come up here and go back the same day--at least that would give you but about an hour here. You must remain over night. Now I put it to you--how do you think I'd feel if you came and remained over night and I, having work to do, should have to leave you to your own devices, mooning about a place that has nobody to talk to? When a fellow comes a long way to see me I want to see a good deal of him, however _he_ may feel about it. It is not the same as if he lived in the same bailiwick and "dropped in." That is why, in the present state of my health and work, I ask all my friends to give me as long notice of their coming as possible. I'm sure you'll say I am right, inasmuch as certain work if undertaken must be done by the time agreed upon. My relations with Danziger are peculiar--as any one's relations with him must be. In the matter of which you wished to speak I could say nothing. For this I must ask you to believe there are reasons. It would not have been fair not to let you know, before coming, that I would not talk of him. I thought, though, that you would probably come up to-day if I wrote you. Well, I should like you to come and pass a week with me. But if you come for a day I naturally want it to be an "off" day with me. Sincerely yours, AMBROSE BIERCE. [Angwin, January 23, 1893.] MY DEAR BLANCHE, I should have written you sooner; it has been ten whole days since the date of your last letter. But I have not been in the mood of letter writing, and am prepared for maledictions from all my neglected friends but you. My health is better. Yesterday I returned from Napa, where I passed twenty-six hours, buried, most of the time, in fog; but apparently it has not harmed me. The weather here remains heavenly. * * * If I grow better in health I shall in time feel able to extend my next foray into the Lowlands as far as Oakland and Berkeley. Here are some fronds of maiden-hair fern that I have just brought in. The first wild flowers of the season are beginning to venture out and the manzanitas are a sight to see. With warmest regards to all your people, I am, as ever, your most unworthy uncle, AMBROSE BIERCE. [Angwin, February 5, 1893.] MY DEAR BLANCHE,