"It is easy to see from the altered tone of your letters that you
consider my case hopeless. Formerly you were deferent and sympathetic.
Now, wounded dignity forbids me to say what you are, but, I repeat with
Mrs. Porcupine Temper, in the reading-book, 'Never man laughed at the
woman he loved. As long as you had the slightest remains of regard for
me you could not thus make me an object of ridicule. Happy, happy Mrs.
Granby!'
"I wonder, however, that you should not have taken warning from the
great failure of Louis Napoleon anent Maximilian,[9] and waited till I
was actually overcome before you waxed fat and kicked. The figure may
seem rude, but, besides being apposite, it is Scriptural. I wish you
were susceptible to ideas. You pounce down with melancholy persistency
on the fact that I assured Mr. Hunt I had no idea of making any claims
for arrearages, which, by the way, is no fact at all. What I assured
him was, that I had no intention of taking my books out of his hands.
(That is what I meant by not meddling with the past.) Nor had I; nor
have I now even--but never mind that. The point is--now do squinny up
your eyes and try to see it, there's a dear, you cannot think how nice
it feels not to be stupid--the point is, when I told Mr. Hunt that,
or when I talked with him about it, he assured me that he had done by
others just as he had done by me. I had never investigated his dealings
with other writers, except----. What you and I looked into was the way
of other publishers with their writers. Did not you yourself, violating
all the commandments at one fell swoop, say that other writers of B. &
H. sharing my misery, took off the--the--the--kurrssee--of imposing on
unsuspecting innocence? Well, then, so I concluded my strength was to
sit still, and still accordingly I sat, till I found they had not done
by their other writers as they had by me, and then up I sprang again.
Now it seems to me that I have a right to open the case all new.
"See here--let us put it scientifically.
"PART I.
"_Unexpressed basis of operations_, B. & H. will do as well as
other publishers.
"_Ascertained fact_, They don't.
"_Result_, I fly into a rage.
"PART II.
"_Their assurance_, They have the same rule for all, and believe it
to be the best for all, me included.
"_Result second_, I am calmed if not convinced.
"PART III.
"_Unexpected development_, They do not have the same rule for all,
but make invidious distinctions, contrary to their own direct
assertions, and _I_ am invidiously distinguished.
"_Result_, Seven spirits more wroth than the first, and the fat in
the fire.
"They have not answered my letter which I sent a week ago last
Saturday. It is their way of doing business, namely, _not_ doing it. I
shall not write again. What I think should be done next is for you to
call upon them and make a proposal of reference in form--if there is
any such thing. What I wish decided is, not future percentage merely,
but past percentage; whether my claim for ten per cent. on all past
sales is or is not founded in or on equity. If you are present, they
must make some reply. If they assent, the Troja may be comprehended in
a _nuce_. If they refuse, we will consider as to the next thing to be
done--but find that out first. If you don't understand this, just say
over the multiplication-table two or three times, and it will clear you
up like an egg-shell. The figure supposes that you are a pot of coffee.
"Your candid opinion of my letter, as compared with Mrs.----'s, is
undoubtedly just, as well as candid. She is a very fine woman, far my
superior, and looks upon this affair quite as wisely as I; but if I
think the same as she does, of course it helps her. I wish I did know
how to advise her, but I don't, and you would not twit me if you did
not think I was going by the board. She is a lovely woman, and it is
wicked in them to make her so much trouble. I suppose I was born for
storms, and so it is not so sacrilegious to rain and hail and thunder
on me. But if you don't roar me gently, I will change lawyers, and then
what is to keep you from the work-house?
"I had a letter to-day from Hawkers, asking me to let them publish a
book for me. They say they ... think they can make the results every
way satisfactory. I talked with Confucius about my letter to Mr. Hunt.
In fact, I talk with anybody now,--entertain my visitors with the
correspondence. If you don't wish to wait on Mr. Hunt with my proposal,
say so. I would invite you down here to talk it over, but there is
nothing in the house to eat but a lamb's tongue and a half, and a pot
of lard. My housekeeper has disappeared, and the season is over. Even
the hens have stopped laying. A friend who came Friday and stopped
till to-day, took the precaution to bring a pair of chickens with him.
I do not mean this as a hint, but as my woman is gone, I will remark
that unless you are fond of fowl _à la raw_, you had better roast your
chickens before you come.
"As you said nothing about the particular point in the ---- letter, I
suppose your brain is as blank on the subject as mine. But I have not
that inordinate love of brilliancy that I cannot open my mouth unless I
expect diamonds to drop out. I am meekly content if only pebbles fall
for paving-stones to feet that I love! Great applause."