I have no subscriptions to announce. My friends send me occasional letters inquiring how I do, and what I am doing. Like Mr. Toots, I am very well, I thank them; and they can [[258]]easily find out what I am doing, and help me, if they like; and if not, I don’t care to be asked questions. The subjoined account gives the detail of Sheffield Museum expenses to end of June. I am working hard at the catalogue of its mineral collection; and the forthcoming number of ‘Deucalion’ will give account of its proposed arrangement. But things go slowly when one has so many in hand, not only because of the actual brevity of time allowable for each, but because, of that short time, much is wasted in recovering the threads of the work.

SHEFFIELD MUSEUM ACCOUNT.

Dr. £ s. d.
April 1. To Balance in hand 21 3 3
May 9. To,, J. Ruskin, by cheque 55 15 3
£76 18 6
Cr. Current Expenses. £ s. d.
April 26. By H. Swan, (salary) 10 0 0
May 2. By,, Watch Rate 0 5 0
” By,, Poor Rate 0 10 0
17. By,, Water Rate 0 5 8
” By,, Gas 0 13 3
June 29. By,, Rate on New Land Allotment 0 2 3
—————— 11 16 2
Repairs and Fittings.
April 15. By J. Smith, for making paths 1 19 3
26. By,, J. Ashton, brass taps 0 3 9
” By,, S. Bower, card mounts 0 3 10
” By,, Walter Nield, cases 5 10 0
” By,, J. Smith, paths 1 14 10
May 12. By,, Sheffield Water Works—repairs. 0 5 8
13. By,, Silicate Paint Co. 2 0 9
” By,, J. Smith 1 3 8
19. By,, Mr. Bell, for applying silicate 0 15 0
June 4. By,, Mr. Aitken, fixtures, etc., pertaining tothe two cottages 1 0 0
26. By,, C. Collingwood, materials for paths 5 4 0
29. By,, G. H. Hovey, floor-cloth 4 11 0
Petty expenses 1 13 5
—————— 26 5 2
Balance in hand 38 17 2
July 20, 1876. Examined and found correct, E. Rydings. £76 18 6

[[259]]

III. I give the following letters without changing a syllable; never were any written with less view to literary fame, and their extreme value consists precisely in their expression of the spirit and force of character which still happily exists in English youth:—

“Astoria, Columbia River, Oregon, North America.

“I hope you flourish still on this terrestrial sphere. I have been watching my chance to hook it for a long time: however, I may get a chance to-morrow. If I do, I will write and let you know immediately. This is a nice country, only there are a great deal too many trees. We have been up to Portland, and are now down at Astoria again, waiting for 250 tons more cargo, and the ship will proceed to Queenstown for orders, so that if I do go home in her, I shall not get home till about, the month of August. There was a bark wrecked here the other night, and the crew spent a night in the rigging; hard frost on, too. We have had snow, ice, frost, and rain in great abundance. The salmon are just beginning here, and are so cheap and fresh. I am steward now, as the other steward has run away.”

* * *

“Brookfield, Columbia River, Oregon,

“I have just started another business, and knocked off going to sea: yours truly is now going in for salmon fishing. I had quite enough of it, and the ship would have been very unpleasant, because she was very deep, and I think short-handed.

“One night five figures without shoes on (time 1 a.m.) might be seen gliding along the decks, carrying a dingy. We launched her over the side, and put our clothes, provisions, etc., in her, and effected as neat a clear as one could wish to see. We had been watching our chances for the last week or so, but were always baffled by the vigilance of the third mate: however, I happened to hear [[260]]that he and the boatswain had also arranged to clear, so we all joined together. We were to call the boatswain at twelve o’clock: the third mate and all of us had our clothes up on deck, and the boatswain backed out of it, and the third mate said he wouldn’t go; but it would have been impossible for him to go in the ship, for all must have come out” [gentle persuasion, employed on boatswain, given no account of]. “We started: favoured by the tide, we pulled fifteen miles to the opposite shore; concealed the boat, had breakfast, and slept. At twelve that night we started again, and went oh a sandbank; got off again, and found a snug place in the bush. We hauled the boat up, and built a house, and lay there over a fortnight, happy and comfortable. At last the ship sailed, and we got to work.… We live like princes, on salmon, pastry, game, etc. These fishermen take as many as 250 (highest catch) in one boat in a night. I suppose there are about five hundred boats out every night; and the fish weigh” [up to sixty pounds—by corrections from next letter], “and for each fish they get 10d.—twenty cents. They sell them to canneries, where they are tinned, or salt them themselves. They pay two men a boat from £8 10s. a month. If I can raise coin for a boat and net (£100), I shall make money hand over fist. Land is 10s. an acre: up-country it is cheaper.”

* * *

“Care of Captain Hodge, Hog’em, Brookfield.

“May 9th, 1875.

“I am now in pretty steady work, and very snug. All the past week I have been helping Hodge build a house, all of wood; and every morning I sail a boatful of fish up to the cannery, so altogether it is not bad fun. I am getting four pounds a months and if the fishing season is prosperous, I am to get more. A sixty pound salmon is considered a very big one. There is a small stream runs at the back of the house, wherein small trout [[261]]do abound.… I shall catch some. The houses here generally are about a mile apart, but the one Tom works at is alongside. It is pretty cold of a night-time, but we have a roaring fire. You are not allowed to shoot game during the next three months, but after that you can: there are plenty of grouse, pheasants, ducks, geese, elk, deer, bears, and all sorts, so perhaps I shall do a little of that. There are some splendid trees about, some of which are 10 feet thick, from 100 to 200 feet high, and as straight as an arrow. Some Indians live at the back of us,—civilized, of course: the men work in the boats: some of the squaws have got splendid bracelets; whether they are made of gold or brass I don’t know. It rains here all the winter, and the moss grows on the people’s backs: up around Portland they are called webfeet. There is a train runs from Portland to San Francisco every day. Tom is with a very nice old fellow, who is very fond of him, and gave him a new pair of india-rubber thigh boots the other day, which I consider to be very respectable of him.

“The boats go out of a night-time mostly; they have a little store on board, and we have coffee, cake, and bread and butter, whenever we feel so disposed.”

* * *

“In the first place, I will describe all hands belonging to this shanty. Captain Hodge is a man characteristically lovely, resembling Fagin the Jew whilst he is looking for Oliver Twist. Still he is honest—and honest men are scarce: if he is a rum’un to look at, he is a d—l to go. He has a cat whom he addresses in the following strain: ‘It was a bully little dog, you bet it was: it had a handle to it, you bet it had: it was fond of fresh meat, you bet it was.’ The next one is Jem the cook: he is a Chinaman, and holds very long and interesting conversations with me, but as I have not the slightest idea of what they are about, I cannot tell you the details. Then comes Swiggler, who is an old [[262]]married wretch, and says he is a grandson of a German Count. One or two more of less note, the dog Pompey, and myself.

“I can keep myself in clothes and food, but I can’t start to make money, under £100.

“So F—— will come for £10 a month, will he? He could make that anywhere while the fishing season lasts, but that is only three months; and this is rather a cold, wet climate. I have had my first shot at a bear, and missed him, as it was pretty dark: they are common here, and we see one every day—great big black fellows—about a hundred yards from the house: they come down to eat salmon heads.

“I met an old ‘Worcester’ friend, who had run away from his ship, the other day in Astoria: he was going home overland.

“Hodge offers to board me free all the winter, but as friend Hodge says he can’t afford wages, I’ll see friend Hodge a long way off.

“I am very well and contented, and shall be about a hundred dollars in pocket at the end of the season.”