Lafcadio.
TO MITCHELL McDONALD
Tōkyō, January, 1899.
Dear McDonald,—Everything is bright and sunny with us again: we have to keep the boys in a warm room, and nurse them carefully, but they are safe now. I shall never forget your kindest sympathy, and the doctor’s generous message. Am I bad for not writing sooner? To tell the truth I was a little tired out myself, and got a touch of cold; but I’m solid and shipshape again, and full of hope to see you. I shall have no more duties until Tuesday morning (31st); so, if you will persist in risking a bad lunch and an uncomfortable room, and the trouble of travelling to Tōkyō, I shall be waiting for you. I think you ought to come up once more, anyhow. I want you to see yourself vis-à-vis with Elizabeth. I want to chat about things. (No mail yet at this writing.) If you cannot conveniently come this week, come just when you please any afternoon between Fridays (inclusive) and Mondays.
Odin said, in the Hávamál,—“I counsel thee, if thou hast a trusty friend, go and see him often; because a road which is seldom trod gets choked with brambles and high grass.”
This is a case of “don’t-do-as-I-do,—but-do-as-I-tell-you”—isn’t it? Besides, I am not worth a d—n as a friend, anyhow. I quote these most ancient verses only because you expressed an interest in them during our last delightful chat;—but whether you come or no, brambles will never grow upon the pathway.
Lafcadio.