MY DEAR FRIEND,--This is just a line to say I am well and happy. I am here in my dear forest all day in the open air. It is very be--no, not beautiful exactly, just now, but very bright and living. There are one or two song birds and a cuckoo; all the fruit-trees are in flower, and the beeches make sunshine in a shady place. I begin to go all right; you need not be vexed about my health; I really was ill at first, as bad as I have been for nearly a year; but the forest begins to work, and the air, and the sun, and the smell of the pines. If I could stay a month here, I should be as right as possible. Thanks for your letter.--Your faithful R. L. S. TO MRS. SITWELL [_Swanston, Tuesday, April 1875._] MY DEAR FRIEND,--I have been so busy, away to Bridge of Allan with my father first, and then with Simpson and Baxter out here from Saturday till Monday. I had no time to write, and, as it is, am strangely incapable. Thanks for your letter. I have been reading such lots of law, and it seems to take away the power of writing from me. From morning to night, so often as I have a spare moment, I am in the embrace of a law book--barren embraces. I am in good spirits; and my heart smites me as usual, when I am in good spirits, about my parents. If I get a bit dull, I am away to London without a scruple; but so long as my heart keeps up, I am all for my parents. What do you think of Henley's hospital verses?[19] They were to have been dedicated to me, but Stephen wouldn't allow it--said it would be pretentious. _Wednesday._--I meant to have made this quite a decent letter this morning, but listen. I had pain all last night, and did not sleep well, and now am cold and sickish, and strung up ever and again with another flash of pain. Will you remember me to everybody? My principal characteristics are cold, poverty, and Scots Law--three very bad things. Oo, how the rain falls! The mist is quite low on the hill. The birds are twittering to each other about the indifferent season. O, here's a gem for you. An old godly woman predicted the end of the world, because the seasons were becoming indistinguishable; my cousin Dora objected that last winter had been pretty well marked. "Yes, my dear," replied the soothsayeress; "but I think you'll find the summer will be rather co-amplicated."--Ever your faithful R. L. S. TO MRS. SITWELL The rehearsals were those of Shakespeare's _Twelfth Night_ for amateur theatricals at Professor Fleeming Jenkin's, in which Stevenson played the part of Orsino. _[Edinburgh, April 1875] Saturday._ I am getting on with my rehearsals, but I find the part very hard. I rehearsed yesterday from a quarter to seven, and to-day from four (with interval for dinner) to eleven. You see the sad strait I am in for ink.--_À demain._