[Fredericton, 1867?]
... Talking of stories, if I only can get the full facts of his history, I think I shall send A.J.M. a short paper on a Fredericton Dog. Did I ever tell you of him? He has the loveliest face I ever saw, I think, in any Christian. He knows us quite well when we go up the High Street where he lives. When he gets two cents (1d.) given him, he takes it in his mouth to the nearest store and buys himself buscuits. I have seen him do it. If you only give him one cent he is dissatisfied, and tries to get the second. The Bishop told me he used to come to Church with his master at one time; he would come and behave very well—till the offertory. Then he rose and walked after the alms-collectors, wagging his tail as the money chinked in, because he wanted his penny for his biscuits!!! He is a large dog—part St. Bernard, and has magnificent eyes. But (my poor!) they shaved him this summer like a poodle! There is a bear in the officers' quarters here—he belongs to the regiment. I have patted him, but he catches at one's clothes. To see him patting at my skirts with his paw was delicious—but I don't like his head, he looks very sly!
January 2, 1868.
... Indeed it is hard not to be able to see each other at any moment and to be "parted" even for a time. But to us all, who all enjoy everything to be seen and heard, and heard of in new places and among other people; the fact that I have to lead a traveller's life gives us certain great pleasures we could not have had if Rex had been a curate at Worksop (we'll say), and we couldn't even afford a trip to the Continent! Also if I have any gift for writing it really ought to improve under circumstances so much more favourable than the narrowing influence of a small horizon.... I only wish my gift were a little nearer real genius!! As it is, I do hope to improve gradually; and as I do work slowly and conscientiously, I may honestly look forward with satisfaction to the hope of being able to turn a few honest pennies to help us out: and it is a satisfaction, and a blessing I am thankful for. I only wish I could please myself better! However, small writers are wanted as well as big ones, and there is no reason why donkey-carts shouldn't drive even if there are coaches on the road!...
[Fredericton.] February 3, 1868.
I am so infinitely obliged to you for your wisdom in re Reka Dom, and very thankful for the criticisms, to which I shall attend. I mean to compress it very much. I will keep the river part, though that is really the shadow of some of my best writing, I think, in the Dutch tale describing that scene at Topsham. I wrote a good bit last night, and was much wishing for the returned MS. But the sight of the proof will help me more than anything. I lose all judgment of my own work in MS. I feel as if it must be as laborious to read as it has been to write. Whereas in print it comes freshly on me, and I can criticize it more fairly. It will not be very long when all is done, I think, and I am so anxious to make it good, I hope it will be satisfactory. A little praise really does help one to work, and I don't think makes one a bit less conscientious.
It has been a very jolly mail this time, though the Lexicon has not come. The Bishop's is getting worn with use, for Rex does his daily chapter with unfailing regularity, and is murmuring Hebrew at my elbow at this moment as usual. Mr. James McCombie, the uncle who lives in Aberdeen, the lawyer, has sent me such a pretty book of photographs of Aberdeen! with a kind message about my letter to the poor old Mother, and asking me to write to them. I had asked for a photo of the old Cathedral graveyard where Rex's parents and brother and sister are buried, and there is a lovely one of it, but it is a set of views of Aberdeen, very good photos, and a very pretty book. All Rex's old haunts. Isn't it nice?
[Sketch of Old Machar Cathedral.]