The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson — Volume 2Stevenson, Robert Louis
General
The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson — Volume 2
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Authors, Scottish -- 19th century -- Correspondence; Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894 -- Correspondence
say, the scorpion. Herein are two pallet beds, two mosquito curtains,
strung to the pitch-boards of the roof, two tables laden with books and
manuscripts, three chairs, and, in one of the beds, the Squire busy
writing to yourself, as it chances, and just at this moment somewhat
bitten by mosquitoes. He has just set fire to the insect powder, and
will be all right in no time; but just now he contemplates large white
blisters, and would like to scratch them, but knows better. The house is
not bare; it has been inhabited by Kanakas, and—you know what children
are!—the bare wood walls are pasted over with pages from the _Graphic_,
_Harper’s Weekly_, etc. The floor is matted, and I am bound to say the
matting is filthy. There are two windows and two doors, one of which is
condemned; on the panels of that last a sheet of paper is pinned up, and
covered with writing. I cull a few plums:—
‘A duck-hammock for each person.
A patent organ like the commandant’s at Taiohae.
Cheap and bad cigars for presents.
Revolvers.
Permanganate of potass.
Liniment for the head and sulphur.
Fine tooth-comb.’
What do you think this is? Simply life in the South Seas foreshortened.
These are a few of our desiderata for the next trip, which we jot down as
they occur.
There, I have really done my best and tried to send something like a
letter—one letter in return for all your dozens. Pray remember us all to
yourself, Mrs. Boodle, and the rest of your house. I do hope your mother
will be better when this comes. I shall write and give you a new address
when I have made up my mind as to the most probable, and I do beg you
will continue to write from time to time and give us airs from home.
To-morrow—think of it—I must be off by a quarter to eight to drive in to
the palace and breakfast with his Hawaiian Majesty at 8.30: I shall be
dead indeed. Please give my news to Scott, I trust he is better; give
him my warm regards. To you we all send all kinds of things, and I am
the absentee Squire,
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.
TO CHARLES BAXTER
_Honolulu_, _April_ 1889.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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