Our news must seem very impertinent. We have both been ill; I, pretty bad, my wife, pretty well down; but I, at least, am better. The Bogue, who is let out every night for half an hour's yapping, is anchored in the moonlight just before the door, and, under the belief that he is watchdog at a lone farm beleaguered by moss-troopers, is simply raising Cain. I can add nothing more, but just that we wish to hear as soon as you have nothing else to do--not to hurry, of course,--if it takes three months, no matter--but bear us in mind. R. L. S. TO W. E. HENLEY _Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth [Winter 1884]._ MY DEAR LAD,--Here was I in bed; not writing, not hearing, and finding myself gently and agreeably ill used; and behold I learn you are bad yourself. Get your wife to send us a word how you are. I am better decidedly. Bogue got his Christmas card, and behaved well for three days after. It may interest the cynical to learn that I started my last hemorrhage by too sedulous attentions to my dear Bogue. The stick was broken; and that night Bogue, who was attracted by the extraordinary aching of his bones, and is always inclined to a serious view of his own ailments, announced with his customary pomp that he was dying. In this case, however, it was not the dog that died. (He had tried to bite his mother's ankles.) I have written a long and peculiarly solemn paper on the technical elements of style. It is path-breaking and epoch-making; but I do not think the public will be readily convoked to its perusal. Did I tell you that S. C. had risen to the paper on James? At last! O but I was pleased; he's (like Johnnie) been lang, lang o' comin', but here he is. He will not object to my future manoeuvres in the same field, as he has to my former. All the family are here; my father better than I have seen him these two years; my mother the same as ever. I do trust you are better, and I am yours ever, R. L. S. TO H. A. JONES _Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, Dec. 30, 1884._ DEAR SIR,--I am so accustomed to hear nonsense spoken about all the arts, and the drama in particular, that I cannot refrain from saying "Thank you" for your paper. In my answer to Mr. James, in the December Longman, you may see that I have merely touched, I think in a parenthesis, on the drama; but I believe enough was said to indicate our agreement in essentials. Wishing you power and health to further enunciate and to act upon these principles, believe me, dear sir, yours truly, ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. TO SIDNEY COLVIN Stevenson had begun with great eagerness to prepare material for a volume on the Duke of Wellington for the series of _English Worthies_ published by Messrs. Longman and edited by Mr. Andrew Lang, but beyond preparation the scheme never went. _Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, Jan. 4, 1885._