My ‘Villon’ is out this month; I should so much like to know what you think of it. Stephen has written to me apropos of ‘Idlers,’ that something more in that vein would be agreeable to his views. From Stephen I count that a devil of a lot. I am honestly so tired this morning that I hope you will take this for what it’s worth and give me an answer in peace.—Ever yours, LOUIS STEVENSON. TO MRS. SITWELL [_Penzance_, _August_ 1877.] . . . YOU will do well to stick to your burn, that is a delightful life you sketch, and a very fountain of health. I wish I could live like that but, alas! it is just as well I got my ‘Idlers’ written and done with, for I have quite lost all power of resting. I have a goad in my flesh continually, pushing me to work, work, work. I have an essay pretty well through for Stephen; a story, ‘The Sire de Malétroit’s Mousetrap,’ with which I shall try _Temple Bar_; another story, in the clouds, ‘The Stepfather’s Story,’ most pathetic work of a high morality or immorality, according to point of view; and lastly, also in the clouds, or perhaps a little farther away, an essay on the ‘Two St. Michael’s Mounts,’ historical and picturesque; perhaps if it didn’t come too long, I might throw in the ‘Bass Rock,’ and call it ‘Three Sea Fortalices,’ or something of that kind. You see how work keeps bubbling in my mind. Then I shall do another fifteenth century paper this autumn—La Sale and _Petit Jehan de Saintré_, which is a kind of fifteenth century _Sandford and Merton_, ending in horrid immoral cynicism, as if the author had got tired of being didactic, and just had a good wallow in the mire to wind up with and indemnify himself for so much restraint.