Better by far than selfishness could earn—
A million grateful children bless your name—
To you we drink—then to the viands turn;
Easy, mayhap, it is to write a book—
Success to her whose muse will deign to cook!
E.F.
Chicago, April 28, 1886.
III
CHICAGO, Tuesday night, September the 14th, 1886.
My Dear Child:—This man Reilly, who has thrust himself upon me during your absence, is fast becoming a seven-year itch. He sprawls about over this room of mine as if it were his own, he strews his damned medical literature over my table, he has a constant stream of idiot callers, and he refuses to give up when I demand truage of him. I hope you will pack your gripsack and start home immediately upon receipt of this. Ballantyne left for St. Louis a few moments ago. In honor of the fact that he is supposed to be on deck to-night, Stone has taken his family and gone to the Casino Theatre for the evening.