Never thought you were going to stir up so much trouble when you did me that big favour of writing a “hello” to me across the mountains, did you? Well, please let me write this time, and if it’s too much, give me the teeny-weenyest bit of a hint, and I’ll turn my pen into a sword and cut it all out. Was it cheeky of you to write to me? My dear Miss Carrie, I don’t know exactly what the unpardonable sin is, but if you hadn’t written, I’d feel awfully anxious about your future. Right here let me assure you that I’m not one of these confirmed correspondents. Hand on my heart! I vow I haven’t written two pages at a time to anybody in years and years. My closest friends complain that I don’t even answer letters. But when I hear from—oh, you forbade that, didn’t you. Don’t chain up your impulses, dear friend; let ’em skallyhoot around. We don’t live more than nine times; and bottles and chains weren’t made for people to confine and tie up their good impulses with. So you shook your head when you read that I was thinking of you last week? All right. Couldn’t expect you to believe. But please turn to page 78 and page 131 of the book I sent you, and try to think whose eyes I attempted to describe. Since I saw you last I’ve seen only one pair of eyes like that; and they—well, they only _resembled_. Think I’m foolish? Oh, no, I’m not. One can have an ideal if one wants to. I’ve had one for—years. All I’ve had since have busted and gone up the flume. Please, Miss Carrie, lemme keep that one. I ain’t going to bother you about it. You say those old days are laid away between lavender scented sheets. I can understand that for you. Mine are not. They are fresh and fragrant, dewy and everlasting. I’m not going to insist upon your believing it—shake your head if you want to and give the sun a chance to brighten his rays. I’m superior to luck, fate, history, and time. If I choose to stand under a certain window yet in Roseboro and sigh for the unattainable, no one shall balk me. So, don’t you try to bulldoze me, Miss Caroline Howard. If my spirit elects to wander there, please you let it alone.