And now is not that enough gossip about ourselves? I wish I could, by telephone, at this moment, hear just where and how you all are, and what you are all doing. In the mountains somewhere, of course, and I trust all well; but it is perhaps fifteen or twenty years too soon for transatlantic telephone. My surroundings here, so much like those of Switzerland, bring you before me in a lively manner. I enclose a picture of one of the streets at Colorado Springs for Madame Flournoy, and another one of a "cowboy" for that one of the _demoiselles_ who is most _romanesque_. Alice, Blanche--but I have actually gone and been and forgotten the name of the magnificent third one, whose resplendent face I so well remember notwithstanding. _Dulcissima mundi nomina_, all of them; and I do hope that they are being educated in a thoroughly emancipated way, just like true American girls, with no laws except those imposed by their own sense of fitness. I am sure it produces the best results! How did the teaching go last year? I mean your own teaching. Have you started any new lines? And how is Chantre? and how Ritter? And how Monsieur Gowd? Please give my best regards to all round, especially to Ritter. Have you a copy left of your "Métaphysique et Psychologie"? In some inscrutable way my copy has disappeared, and the book is reported _épuisé_. With warmest possible regards to both of you, and to all five of the descendants, believe me ever faithfully yours, W. JAMES. _To his Daughter._ EL PASO, COLO., _Aug. 8, 1895_. SWEETEST OF LIVING Pegs,--Your letter made glad my heart the day before yesterday, and I marveled to see what an improvement had come over your handwriting in the short space of six weeks. "Orphly" and "ofly" are good ways to spell "awfully," too. I went up a high mountain yesterday and saw all the kingdoms of the world spread out before me, on the illimitable prairie which looked like a map. The sky glowed and made the earth look like a stained-glass window. The mountains are bright red. All the flowers and plants are different from those at home. There is an immense mastiff in my house here. I think that even you would like him, he is so tender and gentle and mild, although fully as big as a calf. His ears and face are black, his eyes are yellow, his paws are magnificent, his tail keeps wagging _all_ the time, and he makes on me the impression of an angel hid in a cloud. He longs to do good. I must now go and hear two other men lecture. Many kisses, also to Tweedy, from your ever loving, DAD. * * * * *