Jesus Christ!--It is perilous to write such a man. You can go crazy on
less material than anybody that ever lived. What in hell has produced
all these maniacal imaginings? You told me you had hired an attendant
for ma. Now hire one instantly, and stop this nonsense of wearing
Mollie and yourself out trying to do that nursing yourselves. Hire the
attendant, and tell me her cost so that I can instruct Webster & Co. to
add it every month to what they already send. Don't fool away any more
time about this. And don't write me any more damned rot about “storms,”
and inability to pay trivial sums of money and--and--hell and damnation!
You see I've read only the first page of your letter; I wouldn't read
the rest for a million dollars.
Yr
SAM.
P. S. Don't imagine that I have lost my temper, because I swear. I swear
all day, but I do not lose my temper. And don't imagine that I am on my
way to the poorhouse, for I am not; or that I am uneasy, for I am not;
or that I am uncomfortable or unhappy--for I never am. I don't know what
it is to be unhappy or uneasy; and I am not going to try to learn how,
at this late day.