This letter is very intimate, and I have written it at the risk of a great deal of misunderstanding from you, I well know. Who knows,--perhaps you have some quaint ideas about me by this time. But I do hope that you will write me soon if you feel like it--and tell me all about yourselves, how you are playing and how R is painting. I am sure you are gaining on Time! One must. 167: TO GORHAM MUNSON _Woodstock, New York_ _Dec. 10th, ’23_ Dear Gorham: Both Nagle and B. were enthusiastic about your investigation in obstetrics (needn’t voice my own disgust, I trust!). I am still a little blushing about my premature delivery of two poems and a quite personal letter to Miss Gregory as (already) Editor Managing of _The Dial_, asking for reviews, etc., etc. However, I do hope through her gentle accession and the rape of a former -- -- -- --to inveigle my brain children into a little more acceptance thereabouts--in time. I approve of your going, as announced, to Croton. Do not become as other infectious bugs there--however much on second thought the worst vermin seems to haunt nearer, far nearer precincts adjacent to King Street, Lincoln Highway and the Battery for daily duels. (What you started rolling on your return to NY or what Burke had started just before that I am wild to know about. Cowley wrote the most mystifying hint of volcanic disorders at the end of a letter he wrote to B. anent _Broom_ and its publication in Kingston, _which fell through_, by the way). There have been three days of agony around here, just terminated, during which beads of sweat were wrung and sighs heaved perpetually, but B’s review of Cummings for _Broom_ at last is in the mailbox and I will get a chance to write a few letters, I hope. Last Friday I climbed the mountain (Overlook) and called on the caretaker who lives in the house beside the ruins of the hotel. He is very anxious to leave, has been there for seven months, etc., and I am seriously thinking of taking the place myself at pay of 40 bucks per month and all expenses gratis. It would be a hard winter, perhaps a terrific experience, but I should like to keep away from the city and its scattered prostitutions for awhile. The man who owns the place lives in Brooklyn and I expect to hear detailed terms from him in a few days. B. is very keen about going with me, but his previous arrangements with Nagle may check that on grounds of honorable understanding. Certainly I should much prefer to have B. with me there, but the whole plan is in embryo now, and nothing may come of it. The prospect so far as money goes is so threatening and hopeless as I see it in New York that I may take this strenuous means of asserting myself against the traditional conflicts of my past. --/--/