The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson — Volume 2Stevenson, Robert Louis
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The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson — Volume 2
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Authors, Scottish -- 19th century -- Correspondence; Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894 -- Correspondence
I write along without rhyme or reason, as
things occur to me.
I hope from my outcries about printing you do not think I want you to
keep my news or letters in a Blue Beard closet. I like all friends to
hear of me; they all should if I had ninety hours in the day, and
strength for all of them; but you must have gathered how hard worked I
am, and you will understand I go to bed a pretty tired man.
29_th_ _December_, [1889].
To-morrow (Monday, I won’t swear to my day of the month; this is the
Sunday between Christmas and New Year) I go up the coast with Mr. Clarke,
one of the London Society missionaries, in a boat to examine schools, see
Tamasese, etc. Lloyd comes to photograph. Pray Heaven we have good
weather; this is the rainy season; we shall be gone four or five days;
and if the rain keep off, I shall be glad of the change; if it rain, it
will be beastly. This explains still further how hard pressed I am, as
the mail will be gone ere I return, and I have thus lost the days I meant
to write in. I have a boy, Henry, who interprets and copies for me, and
is a great nuisance. He said he wished to come to me in order to learn
‘long expressions.’ Henry goes up along with us; and as I am not fond of
him, he may before the trip is over hear some ‘strong expressions.’ I am
writing this on the back balcony at Moors’, palms and a hill like the
hill of Kinnoull looking in at me; myself lying on the floor, and (like
the parties in Handel’s song) ‘clad in robes of virgin white’; the ink is
dreadful, the heat delicious, a fine going breeze in the palms, and from
the other side of the house the sudden angry splash and roar of the
Pacific on the reef, where the warships are still piled from last year’s
hurricane, some under water, one high and dry upon her side, the
strangest figure of a ship was ever witnessed; the narrow bay there is
full of ships; the men-of-war covered with sail after the rains, and
(especially the German ship, which is fearfully and awfully top heavy)
rolling almost yards in, in what appears to be calm water.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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