DEAR MR. NORTH,--I am home, you see. Don't reply and tell me that the
Tariff Bill surrounds you like a fortress wall. I am going for a walk
at five o'clock on Saturday morning, and I expect to meet you somewhere
in the forest above the north end of the lake. You can reach it by the
path on your side. I shall row there. Do not labour over an excuse, my
friend. I know how you hate to write letters, and you know that I am a
tyrant whose orders are always obeyed.